TMET 20

20. You Are My Salvation
 

Blink. And again.
Anshi, who had been silently staring at Damion, gave a small nod and closed her eyes.

As the man lowered his head, his lips met Anshi’s. The sensation was drier and colder than she had imagined.

Because he expressed love with such passion, she had expected something warmer.

Strangely, though, when those cold lips touched her, it felt as if she had been burned.

A storm of complicated and strange emotions surged through her.
Most of all, disgust and hatred overwhelmed her—the thought of kissing a man who belonged to Orphe.

Yet amidst it all, there was a flicker of excitement.

A wave of immense guilt and shame crashed over her.
Tears trickled down her cheeks.

Noticing this, Damion gently pulled away.

“…Anshi.”

A low, cracked voice—but a gentle call.
Anshi, trying hard to hide her expression and swallow her emotions, pulled Damion into an embrace.

“You are… my salvation.”

Surprised by her words, the man paused briefly, then embraced her in return.
His arms were firm, yet heartbreakingly warm and comforting.

The sky continued to bloom with colorful fireworks.
Anshi tightly shut her eyes.

Brilliant fireworks vanish without a trace after their brief blaze.
Anshi believed their fate would be just like that.

Toward that tragedy, she would hold this man tight and burn away.

* * *

“Lord Henet has arrived.”

At Nubelle’s words, Damion raised an eyebrow, then nodded calmly.

“He’s in the drawing room. Shall I tell him to wait a bit longer?”

“No, I’ll go now.”

Damion headed straight for the drawing room.
It wasn’t like Henet to visit unannounced, so it must be urgent.

“He’s just going to let Helsia go off with that scumbag?”

At Damion’s words, Henet, who had been sitting on the sofa, snapped his head up.
Sure enough, he looked troubled.

Damion brought over a whiskey bottle and glasses, flopping onto the couch beside him.
He poured the amber liquor and handed a glass to Henet, who sighed deeply and knocked it back.

“Fortunately, she broke up with that guy. She didn’t go on the boat trip either.”

“So that’s why you didn’t show. I was actually curious to see the woman who claimed to be your girlfriend.”

Henet inhaled sharply.

Damion raised his glass with a frown.
He had thought this was about Helsia—but it was actually about the impersonator?

“Did you know her? How exactly was she impersonating your girlfriend?”

Henet suddenly stood and began pacing the room anxiously.
After several laps, he finally returned and ran a hand down his face.

Then he forced a wide, awkward grin.

“Damion. Let’s not talk about that today. Why don’t we talk about you?”

“What about me?”

“Lady Anshi de Lubelsa. I was wondering how things are going with her.”

“We’re getting married.”

“What? Are you serious?!”

Henet shouted in shock.
As Damion calmly stared at him, he set down his empty glass and tilted his head slightly.

Then, as if he’d figured something out, he spoke softly.

“So Anshi’s the one who impersonated your girlfriend.”

“…!”

Henet froze, his face turning pale.
But Damion, seeing that obvious reaction, simply furrowed his brow without much concern.

“That’s not really like her.”

“You—you don’t know!”

“I know her better than you do.”

“Hah… Of course you do. But Damion, are you sure she’s really someone who’ll be good for you?”

“Yes.”

“What exactly makes you think that?”

“She has great potential—something no one else has.
So whatever Anshi did in the past, it’s not a disqualifier to me.”

“You… Do you actually love her or something…?”

Damion chuckled lightly at Henet’s serious expression.

“Think whatever you want.”

Yeah. That didn’t sound like love.
Damion wasn’t the kind of guy to marry for something as trivial as feelings.

Suddenly, Henet remembered the desperation in her eyes.
But he shook his head and said:

“She told me herself. That she did it.”

“You met Anshi?”

“I didn’t know she was your fiancée. I just followed the rumors to their source, and she was there.”

“What source?”

“The fountain pen. The one with my name on it—she sold it and claimed to be my secret lover.”

Damion stiffened.

He seemed to fall into deep thought, then set his glass down and asked,

“You still have that pen?”

“Of course. Couldn’t let it circulate out there.”

Henet pulled a cloth case from his coat.
Unrolling it revealed a high-end fountain pen.

Damion burst out laughing when he saw it.

“Ha ha!”

He looked truly delighted, like someone watching a hilarious comedy.
Henet stared at him, completely lost.

“Damion, have you lost it? What’s so funny?”

“I was the culprit.”

“What are you talking about?”

Henet was growing increasingly confused.

But Damion’s next words cleared up the mystery instantly.

“I gave that pen to her—told her to sell it.
When people sell personalized items, they usually invent a relationship that can’t be traced, so she must’ve been called my secret lover.
Knowing her, she wouldn’t have said it herself. Probably the intermediary made that up to help the sale.”

“What? Why would my pen… Wait.”

“You gave it to me. Don’t you remember?”

And then it hit Henet.

‘Feels great when writing. Want to sell it?’
‘Just take it.’

It was the day he’d made a nice profit off a tip from Damion.
Damion had borrowed his pen, praised it, and Henet had just handed it over.

“Then…”

Henet recalled what he had said the day he met Anshi.

‘Why do you have my pen, Lady Lubelsa? Did you steal it?’

And even then, she hadn’t revealed its origin.
She must have feared it would harm Damion, so she’d stayed silent.

Now Henet was out of the maze but stuck in a pit of shame and regret.

She had been that discreet…
Yet he had hurled accusations and said she shouldn’t be in a relationship.
He felt like a criminal.

“Ugh…”

“What’s the problem? The misunderstanding is cleared up.”

“I feel bad, okay?”

“Well, no need to dwell on it.”

Damion sounded indifferent, but Henet couldn’t shake the memory of her eyes.

They weren’t just the eyes of someone clinging to hope.
There was something more—something desperate and passionate.

And in Henet’s opinion…

“She seems to like you.”

“…Yeah? That’s nice.”

Damion sounded like he was talking about someone else.
He didn’t seem happy at all.

Henet felt increasingly uneasy and got up from his seat.

* * *

Bang! Bang!
The door shook violently.
After pounding several times, Geris shouted:

“Rein, you home?”

There was no response from inside.
Geris raised a sharp eyebrow.

It had been about a month since his last visit.
She must’ve anticipated this and left for a while.

As if that would help.
If the door’s locked, he’d just pick it. If she’s gone, he’d wait.

He pulled a thin pin from his pocket.
Today, he wouldn’t even break the lock.
It’d be more fun to surprise her from inside.

Click. The door opened.

Geris stepped into the dark house and lit a candle.

“…No way.”

Something felt wrong.
He marched to the bedroom and flung the door open.

Empty.

The junk that had filled the drawers, the books she claimed to read, even her few clothes—gone.

“She ran off?”

Geris muttered in a twisted voice.
He hadn’t expected her to skip out on her debt like this.

He let out a sick laugh and rolled onto the bed, cackling.

But then his expression hardened.

“Should’ve sold her back then.”

A chilling mutter escaped his lips.
He’d been too kind.

Rein Arel.
Wherever she had run off to, he would find her—and show her hell.

* * *

The East Grand Cathedral, the largest in the capital, was bustling with people.

The sudden wedding announcement of Lord Orphe had thrown high society into chaos—but only briefly.
Now, everyone was desperate to attend as guests.

Both the groom and the bride were well-known among the empire’s citizens, and the crowds spilled far beyond the cathedral.

The bride and groom were in separate waiting rooms at the cathedral entrance.
A final check on attire and a moment to calm the body and mind before the ceremony.

Bang!
The door to Damion’s waiting room burst open without a knock.

Damion, seated and reading a newspaper, looked up.

He wasn’t surprised.
Just from the sound, he knew who it was.

“You’re here, Father. Mother.”

He smiled warmly and stood up.
Bashirof and Marianne entered.

With no time to waste, they shut the door.
Their expressions hardened immediately.

“Wrap this up properly. We can’t afford any more disgrace.”

Bashirof snapped coldly.

Damion hadn’t expected them to say congratulations.
But to speak of disgrace right away?

He barely suppressed a laugh.