MFTR 98

~Chapter 98~

I Wanted to Take Responsibility for You

He had spoken the words with unconscious certainty, though until now they had been little more than a suspicion. When Zeon confirmed it through Annette herself, it felt as if his mood had been slammed face-first into the mud.

“Yes, I understand.”

But his lips moved apart from what he truly felt.

“I’ve watched over you for ten years. How could I not know?”

“…I see.”

Annette steadied her breath, but no matter how much she pretended composure, the corners of her lips trembled slightly.

Even for her, it had been an impulsive act, unplanned and done in the blink of an eye.

When the physician had declared she would never be able to hold a sword again, she couldn’t honestly say she had felt not a single regret.

There had been lingering attachment, fears, and anxieties about an uncertain future.

But in the end, she had thought it was for the best.

And I thought no one would ever know.

Yet Zeon had known.

Annette gave a helpless, hollow laugh without realizing it.

That laugh must have provoked something in him.

Zeon’s eyes, sinking deep, turned as cold as shards of ice.

His voice trembled with surging anger as he asked,

“Was it all planned?”

“What?”

“That you had been colluding with the Alcan Empire all along.”

“What are you saying…?”

“Don’t you find it all too convenient? You ‘happened’ to get injured, and then suddenly Alcan proposed a marriage alliance, and everything proceeded smoothly. Am I really supposed to believe that’s all coincidence?”

The biting words ended, and heavy silence settled over the drawing room.

Frustration and tangled thoughts flickered across Annette’s red eyes.

Collusion? After claiming to have watched her for ten years, how could he say such a thing?

Though it was true that her injury had been her own doing, she had never imagined it would lead to a political marriage.

But even in her indignation, she couldn’t immediately refute him—because she too could not believe it was all mere coincidence.

No, she already knew the answer. Surely it was Cardin who had heard of her injury and set everything in motion.

Meanwhile, Zeon, who had cornered her with near-certainty, now looked visibly shaken by her silence.

“Was it… truly so? You knew this would happen, and still you bore the injury willingly…?”

Clearly unsettled, he looked at her with dismay. Annette shook her head.

“Of course not. I only came to the Empire because I was ordered to marry.”

Zeon studied her face as if to measure whether she spoke the truth, then exhaled a long, heavy sigh.

Strangely enough, even after hearing it was an order, he could not bring himself to ask if she would leave now, since it wasn’t her own will.

Crushed by the weight in his chest, he asked in a tone heavy with resentment,

“Then why? Did you not think about what would happen to the Royal Knights without you? Were you really so sick of it? Everyone believed you’d come back. None of us imagined you’d abandon us without a trace of regret. We were fools…”

Zeon dropped his head. Even he no longer knew what he was saying—or what he even wanted to hear.

It seemed Annette felt the same.

“I… don’t understand what you mean, my lord.”

When she raised her gaze toward the low voice that had fallen from above her head, she found Zeon staring back with a faintly dazed expression.

“You say I abandoned you? That you believed I’d return? Why?”

She truly did not understand why he would say such a thing.

After all, even Luke, who had come claiming he would protect her, baffled her no less.

Then she let out a short breath.

“But I do know why you’re angry with me. You’re accusing me of being irresponsible.”

“…What?”

“You must have wanted me to stay in the Royal Knights and keep slaying the monsters, didn’t you?”

She smiled faintly with resignation, as if she knew his heart completely.

Zeon’s face went deathly pale.

His fingers trembled. He couldn’t believe it.

“Why… would you say it like that?”

As if he, too, were just like the king of Hayworth or the nobles—using her like a tool.

But Annette, oblivious to his shock, shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. As you said, I was so weary of killing and killing again that I even chose to injure myself.”

Her face, as she said it, looked utterly drained and empty.

Seeing that, Zeon barely held together his own expression, which threatened to collapse in misery.

“You think I came here… to accuse you? To blame you?”

Annette said nothing, as though her silence itself asked, Then why else?

Grinding out the words through pale lips, Zeon said,

“No. Never.”

“…”

“Who am I, or who in all of Hayworth is, to condemn you?”

Who could possibly judge the woman who had risked her life again and again for those who had repaid her only with scorn and contempt?

At his firm words, Annette looked startled.

And her expression cut Zeon all over again.

That she had truly thought he’d come only to censure her.

Should he be glad to have cleared the misunderstanding? Or furious that she had thought so little of him? A bitter sigh escaped him.

What he really wanted was to deny it outright.

To tell her he hadn’t come to blame her, that the kingdom’s demands were nothing but an excuse.

And that…

“I wanted to take responsibility for you.”

That’s what he had wanted to say.

The moment he saw her deliberately fail to dodge that attack—her wrist bleeding, blood dripping steadily—none of it had mattered anymore.

Not the royal court. Not the marquis’ house. Not the monster hunts. Nothing.

If you truly want to leave, won’t you come with me?

That’s what he had planned to say after one last expedition, if nothing changed.

He had already ordered the summer villa his mother had given him to be sold for cash.

With that money, he would secure new identities and a safe place to live.

If they left Hayworth, wherever it was, it might not be luxurious—but being together would be enough.

Yet the words never came out.

Seeing how well she seemed to have adapted to the ducal palace, he lost his confidence.

“Thank you… for saying that, my lord.”

After mulling over his words for a long while, Annette finally spoke in a calmer voice.

But she didn’t seem to truly believe him.

Her face said only that she was glad to hear the words, even if empty.

At that, Zeon let out several stifled sighs and rubbed his face with dry, trembling hands, before finally firming his resolve.

“The reason I came here…”

Just as his gaze met Annette’s—

Bang, bang, bang!

The heavy knocking on the drawing room door cut through the moment.

Both turned their eyes toward the door.

“Your Highness…?”

The one who opened it wide was Cardin. He looked from Annette’s startled face to Zeon’s deeply furrowed brow.

Contrary to his worst fears as he rushed here, the two weren’t entangled together.

They simply sat across from each other on sofas, a table between them. He felt relief—yet also irritation.

Why do the sofas seem so close together?

Something he normally wouldn’t even notice now pricked at him.

And why does our princess look even prettier today?

Even the thought he had every day suddenly displeased him.

Cardin found himself sitting at a slant without realizing it.

Unaware that Larissa had gone all out to dress him for his first appearance as an adult, Cardin only thought Annette’s dazzling look proved she was settling into the ducal palace well. He felt proud—yet didn’t like that Zeon got to see her like this.

At that moment, Zeon, recalling Annette’s words, asked,

“Your Highness… you mean the Grand Duke? But yesterday you wore a mask…”

But wasn’t the rumor that his face was hideously disfigured?

Yet the man before him had features as fine as a flower, a beauty with graceful lines.

It was almost blinding, like a halo. Zeon’s eyes sharpened.

So all the rumors were lies?

And with that, he instantly realized the truth: Alcan’s proposal, and Annette being chosen as the bride—none of it had been coincidence.

She… couldn’t have known.

She wasn’t one to lie.

If she had said it herself, it had to be true.

Even so, it left him sick at heart.

The thought of being completely outplayed while he had let his guard down only made him feel filthier.

Zeon cast a dark gaze toward the Grand Duke.

The Duke tilted his exquisitely handsome face, his noble jawline gleaming, and smiled.

“What, surprised I look fine? But don’t stare so blatantly. I happen to dislike people staring at my face.”

As if that was why he had worn the mask.

Zeon gave a disbelieving laugh, but before the air between the two men could grow any tenser, Annette hastily interjected.

“Your Highness, what brings you here?”

Didn’t you promise to wait quietly?

The unspoken words lingered in her tone.

Cardin looked slightly dejected.

He had endured patiently for the sake of the ceremony, but the moment he saw Luke and Larissa outside, his self-control snapped.

The thought of Annette being left alone in a room with Zeon was unbearable.

When he didn’t answer, Annette’s eyes—usually soft and round, which he always found adorable—suddenly hardened.

The sharp, scolding glare sent chills down his spine, making his jaw tighten.

Unbelievable. Even when she’s angry, our princess is beautiful.