#32. I Will Not Let Him Live
While Iedren was engaging in some meaningless conversation as Ophelia had instructed, he glanced over at her. Her eyes were wide, staring back at him.
Lowering his voice, he asked her,
“What do you mean by that?”
Ophelia placed a hand on his forearm and leaned in close. Iedren noticed how unusually bright her blue eyes sparkled.
She whispered, her voice laced with strange excitement,
“It wasn’t a slap. I swung a silver candlestick.”
So that’s why the candlestick had seemed familiar.
Realizing this brought Ophelia a flicker of satisfaction. She had recalled a forgotten memory all on her own, without any special help. It was oddly gratifying.
However, contrary to her expectations, Iedren’s expression turned sour.
She had done as she was told, yet he didn’t seem pleased. Ophelia frowned slightly.
“Why are you looking at me like—”
“Wait. Just a moment,” Iedren interrupted.
He took her hand under the table and turned to the lord.
“Ophelia isn’t feeling well. We’ll be taking our leave first.”
She was feeling fine, so she narrowed her eyes even more. If he was going to lie, he could’ve just made something up about himself. Why drag her into it?
Still, without blinking an eye, he stood up while holding her hand, offering no further explanation.
He led her straight back to her room. The servants who had been tidying up were dismissed by Iedren without any chance to ask why.
Only after the two were alone in the room did he let her go. Ophelia was about to say something when he beat her to it.
“Say that again.”
“…Say what again? That I swung the candlestick?”
“Are you referring to the one on the dining table earlier?”
Ophelia responded calmly,
“It could’ve been something similar in shape.”
In other words—it was close enough.
Iedren recalled the design of the silver candlestick on the table. It had been heavily embossed and looked quite heavy.
Why on earth would she have grabbed something like that and swung it?
A headache started to build. Iedren resisted the urge to hold his forehead.
In any case, in their previous life, the knight had said Ophelia hadn’t been hurt.
For a moment, he wondered if Taeran’s comment about a scarred face from the candlestick might not have been a lie after all. But Iedren dismissed the thought. If someone dies, the face decays anyway. The complaint still counted as whining.
He exhaled softly and asked,
“Why did you swing it?”
“He made me uncomfortable first.”
Then, suddenly tilting her head, Ophelia asked an unexpected question.
“Wasn’t there a boy beside him?”
“…There was. Do you know him?”
Ophelia suspected that boy had later become her financial advisor.
At one point, she had tried to teach the visiting lord a lesson by swinging the candlestick at him and abducting his servant. That boy had been the only witness to the whole thing.
Afterward, she had intended to silence the boy and let him go. Maybe send him off to a kingdom like Brynwell or Tessendot with some money.
But the boy had gone nowhere. Instead, he became her financial advisor.
“Lady Ophelia saved me,” he had said.
Ophelia tried to explain that it wasn’t a rescue—it was a kidnapping—but he hadn’t seemed to care.
She relayed this to Iedren.
“That servant is my financial advisor.”
“…So that’s why he looked familiar.”
Then Iedren asked,
“Putting that aside—what do you mean the southern lord made you uncomfortable?”
“He threatened me.”
“…What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. The lord here is close with Mahanas, so Mahanas put him up to it. Told him to scare me so I’d be more obedient, even if I stayed in Aglante.”
Even though the memory had been triggered by the candlestick, the details were vague. The scent of flowers in the drawing room, the stifling air, the dim lighting—that was all she recalled clearly.
The lord, who seemed over forty, had offered her tea the moment she entered the drawing room. Ophelia had refused it. It was the same kind Mahanas often drank, and she didn’t want to touch it.
The lord had rested both hands under the table and exhaled excitedly. In a rough voice, he muttered,
“Her Highness the Princess has grown up so well.”
At first, Ophelia didn’t understand what he was doing. The room was too dark, and the air was heavy.
He kept whispering.
“But you mustn’t forget your childhood.”
While she was trying to figure out why the room was so dark, she realized none of the candles were lit.
“Getting married doesn’t change anything. Just like always, you should rely on your brother.”
While she was still puzzled about the lack of candlelight, the lord stood from his seat.
“Look at you now. You listened to His Highness the Prince, and didn’t it lead to such a wonderful marriage?”
He then stepped closer to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. His warm hand was unmistakable through the thin fabric.
With one hand on her shoulder, the lord whispered into her ear, breath hot and heavy.
“Prince Mahanas said you should think of me like a brother. He gave me the right to treat you as a sister.”
So Ophelia treated him the same way she had treated Mahanas.
Before the man could moan with heat, she picked up the candlestick she had been eyeing.
In the blink of an eye, he collapsed.
Ophelia remembered the sticky feeling on his hand, and his disheveled clothing.
She should have swung it again to finish the job—but hadn’t thought of it. The air in the room had been too suffocating. She just wanted to get outside.
Only after leaving the lord’s drawing room did she realize there had been a servant who witnessed everything.
So she spirited the boy away. She couldn’t trust Iedren’s knights with such a task, so she had bribed someone else.
The one who helped her bribe him was Nettefel.
Coincidentally nearby at the time, her friend had helped devise a way to handle the situation after hearing what had happened.
As the memory unraveled, more and more details came back—everything she and Nettefel had planned, and how it had all ended.
Ophelia felt relieved to know her mind wasn’t entirely a mess.
Then Iedren spoke.
“What exactly did Lord Rohos do to you?”
Ophelia noticed that his expression had hardened. It was different from the confusion or surprise he typically showed.
And for a moment, she debated telling him the truth.
In their previous life, she had told her husband nothing. Nettefel had warned her that the lord of this land was close to Iedren. Ophelia had verified it herself—and found it to be true.
So instead of telling Iedren anything, she had made other preparations. She had secured a witness in case of future accusations, but that hadn’t felt like enough.
That’s why she had joined hands with the lord’s daughter.
The daughter had agreed to accuse her father, requesting Ophelia summon him to the northern court. In the meantime, she planned to seize control of the house and kill him.
But as soon as she accused him, Iedren killed the lord—almost like he’d been waiting for it.
Ophelia now asked the man staring down at her with a stony expression,
“Are you going to kill the lord again this time?”
She looked up at him with clear eyes.
Iedren took a breath, trying not to let his emotions show.
What he really wanted was to drag Taeran Rohos out immediately. That man had dared to threaten his wife on his land.
But anger alone couldn’t justify action. Ophelia hadn’t done anything wrong. Losing his temper now could send the wrong message.
He forced the emotion out of his voice and said evenly,
“I will not let him live.”
Ophelia noticed the veins standing out on his neck. It wasn’t like the sulking or petty grumbling she’d seen from him before.
Iedren was truly, deeply angry.
Realizing this made her feel strange.
In the past, he had told her he killed Taeran for her. And now, in this life, he was saying he’d do it again.
Ophelia remembered the conversation they’d had in the carriage earlier that day. Iedren had cried. Even if it wasn’t on purpose, she knew she had hurt him.
And yet now, he was acting like none of that had happened.
Why?
But before she could get too lost in thought, Ophelia cut off the question. It was a feeling she knew she’d never understand.
All she had to do was answer his questions.
Having reached her conclusion, Ophelia opened her mouth to speak.
