ILTDAMH | CHAPTER 34

Chapter 34

Weren’t You Supposed to Be Dead?

That evening.

“What do you mean the crown prince has changed?”

Mercian, dining with Zelda, froze in shock. Zelda took a leisurely sip of wine before answering.

“Yes, I was just as stunned. Apparently, Crown Prince Daimond tried to assassinate the current heir on his own wedding day. He failed, of course. And do you remember those imperial women who were found murdered? Turns out, the one who abducted and killed them was none other than Prince Daimond himself. Because of that, he was stripped of his title and sent into exile.”

“Exiled…?”

The moment she remembered Daimond whispering to her about becoming his mistress, a chill raced down Mercian’s spine.

“They say some great hero—dead once, but somehow returned—was the one who crushed Daimond. He half-killed him, left him broken in prison. Both arms and legs shattered. Rumor has it he’ll never live as a whole man again., it’d be strange if no one bore him a grudge, don’t you think?”?”

“Dead… and came back to life?”

A soldier returned from war, perhaps? 

Mercian muttered the thought aloud.

Zelda tore a piece of bread, popping it into her mouth before continuing.

“Mm-hmm. I heard the name, but I’ve forgotten it. It was familiar, though… Hehe, but you know me—I don’t keep track of the highborn. Anyway, the tea merchant was the one who told me all this. And I thought, if someone as privileged as a crown prince still stoops to such madness, maybe it’s true—power warps the soul. Either way, the capital’s been in an uproar ever since. Just recently, they held the investiture for the new crown prince.”

So… Prince Harmon must have ascended.

At Zelda’s words, Mercian’s thoughts drifted back to the duke’s household.

They must despise me now—Ruan dead, and I myself vanished without a word.

But no… I would have left sooner or later anyway. 

Perhaps it’s better this way.

“You’re right… so much has happened.”

“The tea merchant also said when the disgraced prince was dragged out of the capital, he shrieked and wailed like a madman. An utter disgrace, apparently.”

That prince… I never liked him. 

And now, finally, he’s fallen.

Mercian clenched her jaw as her mind replayed Daimond’s sneer, his blade arcing down toward the fallen Ruan. Rage surged through her again.

If only we hadn’t met him that day in the bookshop… would Ruan have lived a little longer?

She had thought herself numb, thought she’d buried it all. 

But Zelda’s story reopened the wound.

She still dreamed of him sometimes—Ruan, collapsing before her eyes.

And in the dream, she was powerless again, screaming and sobbing as he fell.

“Ah, and I heard something even more interesting,” Zelda said suddenly.

“Interesting?”

“Yes. That man who came back from the dead? They say he’s searching for his runaway wife. Apparently, she thought he had died, gathered up his fortune, and fled with the money. He even put her portrait in the papers! And get this—he’s offering an enormous reward to anyone who can reveal her whereabouts. Enough, they say, to live in luxury for decades. Can you imagine how much she must have stolen, if he’s so desperate to find her? The whole tale made me curious about the woman, I won’t lie.”

“…I see.”

“Oh, and Rosaline—remember those sandwiches you packed for me on my last trip to the capital? I gave some to the tea merchant. This time, he wouldn’t stop talking about how delicious they were! He asked if you’d ever consider selling them in the capital. He even snatched away the sandwiches I’d brought this time, said he couldn’t resist.”

Mercian, who had been lost in thoughts of Ruan, blinked back to the present.

“In the capital…?”

“Yes! He said your sandwiches are far too good for a backwater village, and asked if you’d consider opening a shop there. Can you believe it? That man never spends a coin if he can help it, but he swore he’d invest if you ever brought your sandwiches to the capital. And really, Rosaline, your sandwiches are worth it.”

A shop… in the capital?

For a moment, Mercian’s heart wavered. 

But then the memories surged—the capital she had fled in grief, the city she had sworn never to return to. 

Here, in Phenomenon, she had finally begun to heal, to lay down roots.

If she went back now, the ghosts of Ruan would rise again.

And with Zelda’s words, two faces she had almost forgotten surfaced in her mind: Penelope and Luciane.

Strange. 

She often thought of the duke’s household, but not once of her own family. 

Until now.

For a fleeting moment, she wondered how they fared. 

But she quickly smothered the thought. 

She had no desire to let them know she was alive.

Here… I just want to live quietly. That’s all.

Mercian shook her head.

“Zelda, forgive me, but I don’t want to open a shop in the capital. I’d rather not go back there—not for a long time.”

“Oh! Right… I was so caught up bragging about your cooking, I forgot. Rosaline, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up the capital. It must have made you think of your husband again.”

When Zelda recalled the month Mercian had been bedridden in grief after her husband’s death, she felt a pang of guilt.

But Mercian only smiled gently.

“Please don’t feel that way. If anything, I should be grateful to you for caring so much about me. I’m content just selling here in the village.”

“All right then. Well, since I’ve eaten up your dinner again, I should get going. But… where’s Ruan? Haven’t seen him around.”

At that, Mercian glanced about the room, startled.

“Now that you mention it… He’s got the same name, but unlike the one I used to know, this one loves to wander. If he’s out in the morning, he won’t come back until long after dark.”

Zelda tilted her head, curiosity lighting her face.

“Same name? You don’t mean to tell me every dog you’ve ever had was called Ruan, do you? Ha! Don’t tell me all your animals share noble names. Let’s see… the chicken was Charles, wasn’t it? And the duck—Cléa? At this rate, when your hens lay eggs, you’ll be scribbling names on the shells, too!”

“What? Hahaha—o-of course not. It’s just… I think of them as family. That’s why I name them.”

Mercian laughed awkwardly, and Zelda rose from her chair with a smile.

“All right, I’ll be off now. Lock up properly. And you’re sure about Peter?”

“Zelda, my husband hasn’t even been gone half a year. Do you plan to marry me off to every bachelor in town? Honestly, I think you’re the one in a rush.”

“Well… it’s only because Peter really does like you, Rosaline. But if you’re not interested, then that’s that. Oh—Ruan! Look at you, rolling in the dirt again. You’re as tireless as ever.”

Zelda opened the door, letting the mud-caked dog tumble inside, wagging happily. 

With a laugh and a wave, she left.

“Ruan, where have you been this time?”

Scooping up the filthy, wriggling dog, Mercian carried him straight to the washroom.

Outside, on her walk home, Zelda paused mid-step, frowning in thought.

“Now that I think of it… that noble who supposedly died and came back to life—didn’t his name sound exactly like Rosaline’s dog? No, impossible. Someone of that rank couldn’t possibly share a name with a villager’s pet.”

She shook her head, dismissing the thought, and went on her way.

A few days later, as Mercian prepared to leave for her shop, Susanna from the house behind hers appeared at the gate.

“Rosaline, heading out to the shop?”

“Yes, Auntie Susanna. Did you need something?”

“Actually… I came to say goodbye—and thank you.”

“Goodbye? Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes. We’re moving. My husband’s parents in Saironi have long asked us to live with them. We hesitated because houses don’t sell well out here… but then someone suddenly offered to buy ours. For twice the going price, no less! We couldn’t pass that up. Still, it feels sad, leaving just as we’ve grown fond of the place.”

She clasped Mercian’s hand warmly, her eyes glistening.

“For double the price? That’s remarkable. I’ll miss you too, Auntie… but I’m glad you got such a good offer. When will you be leaving?”

“We signed yesterday. We’re to vacate within the week. Truly, thank you, Rosaline—for watching the children when I was busy, for sharing meals… you’ve been such a help.”

“Oh, please. You helped me so much when I first came here. Just promise you’ll visit sometimes.”

“I will. And one more thing—since we’re leaving in such a hurry, we’ll be leaving most of the furniture and things behind. Take whatever you might need.”

“Thank you, Auntie. That’s very kind.”

Mercian watched Susanna disappear into the house to continue packing, her brows furrowed in thought.

First old Harold across the road had sold his home and left. 

Now Susanna too?

Why are so many people suddenly moving away?

Her little corner of the village was secluded—just five houses besides her own. 

Yet one by one, her neighbors were vanishing.

A strange unease stirred in her chest.

But two houses moving out all of a sudden…

Is someone planning to build something big here? 

Don’t tell me they’ll ask me to sell my place too?

Mercian glanced back at her home, worry flickering in her eyes.

It wasn’t anything grand like a duke’s mansion, but it was still spacious and cozy enough for her to live in alone.

She had no real desire to sell it unless there was some pressing reason.

She made up her mind to stop by the real estate office on her way home from work, after locking up the shop.

***

“What? What do you mean by that?”

At Mercian’s question, Piero, the man who handled property dealings in the village, gave her an awkward smile.

“Honestly, Rosaline, I don’t know the full story either. Just that someone suddenly came along and decided to buy.”

“You mean… every house around mine has been sold?” Rosaline asked again, disbelief coloring her voice.

In the span of a single week, all five houses in her neighborhood—except for hers—had been sold?

“How is it possible that every house near mine has been bought? Don’t tell me you’re going to ask me to sell mine as well?”

Her anxious tone made Piero raise his hands quickly and shake his head.

“No, no. Fortunately, they said they won’t be buying your house.”

“…They don’t want my house?”

“Exactly. So you don’t have to worry.”

What?

Mercian’s unease only deepened at Piero’s answer. 

Out of the six homes in this quiet, remote village, every single one had been bought—except for hers.

By the same person.

But who? And why?

When she pressed Piero to tell her who the buyer was, he only apologized again and again, insisting he wasn’t at liberty to say.

The whole thing left a sour taste in Mercian’s mouth, but still—at least she wouldn’t have to sell her house. 

For the time being, that was enough to calm her.

Yes, back then she had thought it was a stroke of luck.

That is—until a few days later, when she saw him.

The man she had once seen with her own eyes lying cold and dead inside a coffin.

Now alive. 

Alive—and impossibly healthy, looking even stronger than when he had been by her side.

And standing right before her.

“It’s been a long time, my lady. You’ve lost some weight. Who has been troubling you in my absence?”

Smiling at her as if they had only parted yesterday, Ruan greeted her with warmth.

Mercian stared at him, disbelief etched across her face.

“Ru… Ruan? Is it really you? But—you were dead. Weren’t you dead?”