Chapter 77………………………
Not Coming Back
“…You don’t carry the blood of Kroatea?”
Leah’s pupils trembled helplessly as she looked at Akkia, not understanding what he meant.
“Your Grace, what do you mean by that…?”
“Leah.”
But Akkia only shook his head, as if unwilling to say any more. Then he took her hand gently.
“I’m leaving for the capital.”
“…Pardon?”
So suddenly?
There was still a mountain of work left to do in Bialitskal. The hot spring construction wasn’t even finished, and the medical institution hadn’t even been started.
“Did something urgent come up in the capital? How long will you be staying?”
“……”
“Even if the hot spring project is left to Saturn, I still need to oversee the medical institution’s establishment. I can’t leave my post for too long—”
Akkia cut her off mid-sentence.
“I’ll go to the capital alone.”
“…Alone, Your Grace?”
Leah blinked slowly, like a receiver malfunctioning, then closed her eyes again, repeating the motion. Suddenly, she gasped as if realizing something.
It’s because I’m injured.
Her gaze fell on her wound. Though she had mostly recovered, a long carriage journey would still be taxing.
If something urgent awaited in the capital, bringing a patient would only cause delay. Understanding his decision, Leah nodded.
“I’m sorry. I forgot I’m still recovering. Then… you’ll deal with the urgent matter and come straight back, right?”
After a pause, Akkia’s lips finally parted.
“Leah.”
And with a face he had never shown before, he said:
“I won’t be coming back.”
His expression looked as though he were forcing himself to endure pain.
The room was filled with the sweet scent of jasmine, its luxury overwhelming: porcelain from the East rarely seen in the Western Continent, tapestries embroidered with painstaking craftsmanship.
“So, what became of the apothecary?”
Count Leorod asked the man beside him casually as he sat in his chair.
“My apologies. Struck with a poisoned blade, she should have died within a few days… but it seems a physician passing nearby gave effective emergency treatment.”
The man lowered his head, ashamed.
“She’s alive?”
“Yes.”
Surviving after being stabbed with such poison—
Click.
Count Leorod clicked his tongue at the news that the apothecary had lived.
It had only been meant as a warning, so her death wasn’t necessary… but still, the Count couldn’t shake his unease.
“You made sure there won’t be any loose ends?”
“Yes. It happened in a crowded square, and it was done discreetly. No one could trace it back to us.”
At that moment—
“Of course. My people would never bungle such a task.”
A high-pitched voice sounded from opposite the Count.
A woman seated across from him gracefully set down her teacup.
“Isn’t that so, Count?”
She was the Empress Dowager. The sheer force radiating from her presence was overwhelming. Despite her graying hair and wrinkles, her aura was undimmed.
“I did not mean to doubt your people, elder sister. I only asked out of caution…”
Count Leorod bowed low, wary of offending her. After all, she was the one who had elevated his collateral house into prominence within the Empire.
The Iron Lady. A woman said to have neither blood nor tears. That was the Empress Dowager before him.
“Rix.”
Her voice rang out, cold as ice. With a thud, a man kneeling in the back of the room pressed his forehead to the ground.
“This is your last chance. I won’t forgive another mistake.”
“Yes, my lady!”
Bowing deeply, the man vanished soundlessly. The weight of her authority forced even the Count to swallow dryly.
No matter how many times he witnessed it, he never grew used to the sight—adults pledging blind devotion to this aged woman, calling her master.
The man just now, Rix, was the deputy of the assassin guild that served the Empress Dowager.
The assassins…
They were the greatest contributors to putting Illei on the throne, and the Dowager’s sharpest blades.
Trying to dispel the heavy mood, the Count poured her another cup of tea. Watching, she asked softly:
“So then, what do you intend to do?”
When he raised his eyes, her sharp gaze locked with his. The Count’s hand trembled faintly as he offered her the cup.
“Duke Heidern must never take part in governance. There can only be one sun in this land.”
Prince Akkia, born with true legitimacy. And Illei, who had taken the throne in his stead. Though the late Emperor, Phillips III, had formally abdicated to Illei, Akkia was always a threat—especially now that he had regained his health.
The Count understood her meaning and nodded.
“Of course, Your Majesty. Illei alone is the Empire’s sun. I will handle it. You need not worry.”
At his assured response, the Dowager’s lips finally relaxed into the faintest smile. Picking up the steaming cup, she sipped with regal composure.
“It is reassuring to have you, Count.”
Placing her cup back down slowly, she added:
“Still, the Duke is far too resilient. I thought he would die within a few years at most, but now he’s stronger than ever.”
Unlike his mother, Akkia’s life clung stubbornly to him. The Dowager recalled the frail boy from before his exile: emaciated to skin and bone, his once-bright crimson eyes dulled to lifelessness. A prince who could have died at any moment.
And now he has grown healthy?
Not only healthy, but changed into someone entirely different, fully grown. The Dowager tapped the rim of her cup.
I should have ended him before his exile…
She should have dealt with him herself before he left the palace as Duke of Heidern. But it had coincided with Illei’s coronation, and she could not risk unrest.
Who would have thought that boy would grow sharp claws like this?
Akkia was no longer the cowering, weakened prince. He had become a man capable of pressing a blade to the throats of House Leorod—and even Emperor Illei.
“What would you have me do, sister?”
At his question, the Dowager raised her head and answered without hesitation.
“He must be eliminated.”
Even the smallest spark must be extinguished before it could return as a great calamity.
“As we’ve always done.”
On the fifteenth day since Akkia’s departure for the capital, Leah leaned against the window frame, lost in thought again.
“Haa…”
Her sigh mingled with the breeze. How much longer would she be confined like this?
Though her injuries had healed, her grandfather and the household staff smothered her with such overprotection that she could barely leave her bed.
The only outings permitted were short strolls in the garden.
Living like a hothouse flower—it didn’t suit her. Leah suddenly recalled something Dmitri had said days ago:
[What kind of life do you wish to live, Leah? If you don’t truly want to continue as an apothecary, then why not live anew as the Duke of Belarus’ granddaughter?]
“…The life of a duke’s granddaughter, huh.”
In those days of overprotection, she realized it: she was more suited to living as an apothecary than as a noble lady.
“Maybe I should have just gone with His Grace then…”
Leah propped her chin on her hand, murmuring. Then Akkia’s last words before leaving flashed across her mind:
[I won’t be coming back.]
Those words weighed heavily on her heart.
“What was that supposed to mean… like we’d never meet again?”
His face had looked as though he were saying farewell. She had been struck speechless, unable to reply.
“How infuriating.”
The more she dwelled on it, the more Akkia’s words angered her. She could understand his concern after her sudden attack…
But shouldn’t that make him stay by her side all the more? Instead, he chose to distance himself.
If he truly never returns to Belarus…
“Then I’ll just go to the capital myself!”
Yes. Better to act than to sit waiting endlessly. Her body was nearly recovered, so she could prepare to travel soon.
When I find him in the capital, I’ll stick to him so closely he’ll be sick of it.
Leah clenched her fist with determination and left the room. Before leaving, she would speak to her grandfather.
Though the thought of parting from him so soon after being reunited after twenty years saddened her, she planned to return to Belarus with Akkia once he finished his business in the capital.
And I can always write letters often.
At last, Leah arrived at the study and knocked lightly.
“Come in,” came the Duke’s voice.
Through the opening door, she saw the Duke of Belarus seated at his desk, riffling through documents.
When he looked up and saw her enter, he set his pen down and welcomed her warmly.
“How are you feeling? You should have called me to you, child.”
“I’m fine now. Truly, you don’t need to worry. But… I came because there’s something I want to say.”
“To me?”
Leah sat on the sofa at the center, and Dmitri soon joined her, sitting opposite.
“The doctor said that as long as I don’t overexert myself, I can even travel long distances. So I’d like to return to the capital… You’ll allow it, won’t you?”
But contrary to her hopes, Dmitri said nothing at first.
“…It’s because of Duke Heidern, isn’t it?”
When she looked up, their eyes met. His gaze was already dark with understanding. Leah nodded.
“Yes. I can’t help but worry, knowing he went alone. His health isn’t fully restored yet, and—”
“No.”
“…What?”
Her eyes widened, stunned at his refusal.
“I asked Duke Heidern to leave you. To stay away from your side.”
“…Why?”
With a heavy gaze, Dmitri explained:
“You must know by now your injury wasn’t an accident.”
She had suspected it—her attack was connected to Akkia.
“This time you were lucky. But if it happens again? If fate isn’t so merciful next time… you…”
His brow furrowed at the thought, and he reached out to hold her hand.
“Leah. I cannot lose you too.”
“Grandfather…”
At the faint tremor in his grip, Leah was left speechless.
She couldn’t bring herself to say she still wanted to go. Or that she still wished to stay at Akkia’s side.
She couldn’t speak a word of it.
