Chapter 221
I think I might have bought a cursed ring. Not a magical ring, but a cursed one!
Did I just end up buying something weird that made Marghetta cry? I couldn’t help but rationally suspect that.
‘Help, huh.’
And the most incomprehensible part was that statement.
Just having Marghetta by my side and waiting for me was more than enough. But she wants to be even more helpful? How on earth does she plan to do that?
My head was spinning, but I had to say something. Silence wouldn’t save the day; it would probably just make everything worse for Marghetta.
“Marghetta. Just having you here is more than enough help to me.”
“That’s a lie.”
At my earnest words, Marghetta shook her head fiercely. She still sounded choked up, but her words kept flowing.
“Then why did you go to the capital without telling me? Why were you alone at the cemetery?”
Seeing her tremble as she spoke almost made me sigh out loud.
The reason I went to the capital? The Crown Prince just called me for dinner! I thought I’d be back on the same day, so I went with an easy mind.
Of course, crawling on all fours at the cemetery wasn’t something I had planned at all. Who could’ve imagined I’d get confessed to by the Second Manager?
‘How do I even explain that?’
After four years in public service, I was supposed to develop a thick skin, but even that has its limits.
How could I tell Marghetta, “Oh, my subordinate confessed to me. Just needed to cool my head for a sec”? I’d have to be a serious lunatic to say that out loud!
Besides, I never imagined the rumors would spread so quickly. I didn’t even have time to come up with a believable excuse before I was caught!
“Is it… because I’m not the shoulder you can rely on?”
As she mumbled sorrowfully with her head bowed, I felt my heart ache.
It’s not that I wasn’t reliable. I only kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want to burden Marghetta, assuming I could handle it all by myself. Plus, it was a bit embarrassing to talk about.
I definitely didn’t expect that choice would become poison for her.
“I want to help you too, Carl. I want to see all your wounds and pain.”
“Marghetta.”
I tried to reassure the eternally gloomy Marghetta, but in response, she shrank away even more.
“…I’m sorry. I was too selfish, wasn’t I?”
As she cautiously raised her head, she managed a forced smile that clearly wasn’t genuine.
“If Carl doesn’t talk, there’s always a reason, yet I said I’d wait and then came to you with doubts…”
Then, wiping the tears that had gathered in her eyes, she forced out what might’ve been intended as a spontaneous smile. But could that be called natural?
“I’m sorry for saying useless things. Just… think of it as nonsense.”
I couldn’t even respond to that.
I could see how it all had led to this. It was like a tiny spark had piled up and then exploded.
Confiding in Marghetta during our vacation was a little embarrassing. I didn’t fully open up; I kept it as brief as I could since the truth was too grim and heavy.
That choice of not saying everything flowed down to today. Because I hadn’t shared my burden, I thought I was considering her well-being, but she was left anxious because she hadn’t heard it all.
“Is it because I can’t be a reliance to you?”
‘Damn it.’
I’ve heard that line before. More than a few times, I’ve told it to myself.
When the person you love seems to not trust you. When they try to bear everything alone without saying a word to you.
Didn’t I harbor such feelings toward Hecate too? I had felt resentment toward her for not relying on me and leaving.
I let out a sigh without realizing. From the outside, this incident looks like it exploded due to the Second Manager’s confession and my overnight stay at the cemetery. But the real issue was the strange gap between Marghetta and me. That gap was the true source of our problems.
And when I sighed, Marghetta started to look uneasy, prompting me to gently pull her into a hug.
“C-Carol?”
Her startled voice broke through, but I didn’t respond. Instead, I headed to the bed.
The conversation we were about to have would be heavy and not fun at all. At least I could make her comfortable while we talked.
“Marghetta.”
“Yes, yes.”
“Actually, it does hurt a lot.”
Now, where should I start talking?
Right, I should probably begin with the great hunt war. It felt like that’s where I ought to start if I was going to tell her about the orphanage.
It felt a bit different. Had I ever told these stories in such detail before?
Though I had been a live textbook for Gerhardt, it was just about relaying information centered on events and people.
But now, what I was about to share was a lament filled with my own feelings, never spoken to anyone else.
“It’s not a good story, is it?”
In a way, it felt ugly and embarrassing. A 21-year-old whining to an 18-year-old saying, “The world sucks!”
But this was the time to say it. It’s not a conversation between 21-year-old Carl and 18-year-old Marghetta but rather an honest chat between two souls devoted to spending a lifetime together.
“Then, about that Hecate person…”
The longer I spoke, the paler Marghetta’s face became, and she cautiously opened her mouth.
With the honorific “person,” how could I not chuckle? Hecate, the Lady, is referred to as “that person” by you.
“Yes. I was gravely injured fighting the reverse skywalker. It seems it was an injury that couldn’t be healed… and she left my side.”
“I-I see…”
Marghetta bowed her head as if she were the guilty one. People are too kind. The real culprits behind that incident were Kagan and myself for failing to protect Hecate.
Kagan has died, so it’s only me left as the sinner. There’s no way Marghetta should feel guilty.
“Um, Carl.”
“Yes, Marghetta. Feel free to speak.”
I spoke softly to Marghetta, who continued to cower with her head down.
No matter how necessary the conversation was and how shocking it had to be, it didn’t mean that the shock would lessen. It was my duty to hold and comfort confused Marghetta.
Besides, if I didn’t care for Marghetta now, I’d end up being indebted to her later.
“Do you still… have scars?”
“Oh.”
At that, I couldn’t help but let out a bitter smile.
The fight with Kagan must have been brutal, and the scars I bore would remain for life. Hearing that, how could Marghetta possibly not worry about my state?
“Yes, I have some. This bastard was such a stubborn one; the effects linger on.”
“Show me.”
“Pardon?”
That was an unexpected request.
“I want to know everything. All of Carl’s scars.”
The way she insisted with her tearful eyes made it hard to refuse.
‘Well, I guess I have to show her anyway…’
The thought was fleeting. Given that I was considering marrying Marghetta, it was a scar I couldn’t hide forever.
Better to reveal it now than play peekaboo on our wedding night and end up consoling an inconsolable Marghetta through the night.
So, I nodded once, took off my coat and shirt. It felt a bit embarrassing to strip in front of someone, but I tried to act casual.
“Ah…”
As the scars were revealed, a soft gasp escaped my lips.
“Isn’t it ugly?”
Honestly, I thought it was pretty ugly too. The injuries barely stitched up were still visible, and I could see the jagged scars clearly. Kagan, you bastard, if you were going to die, couldn’t you just die gracefully?
The scar stretched from my left shoulder to my right hip. It wasn’t even a wound I’d compare to the measures of an inspection. It was just a ridiculously large scar. I sometimes startle at it myself, so how much worse would it be for Marghetta?
“No.”
However, Marghetta gently traced the scars with her fingers.
“It’s not ugly at all.”
“Is that so?”
Even if it was a compliment, I appreciated it. Not many would dare say, “Yeah, it’s horrendous!” in this scenario anyway.
In any case, while Marghetta traced my scars, she started shedding tears again.
“I didn’t know you could be such a crybaby, Marghetta.”
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
At my teasing, Marghetta hurriedly wiped her tears, but once they started flowing, they were hard to stop.
I felt uneasy. I had expected Marghetta to be shocked. I had also anticipated that reaction when I decided to talk about it. Given that I couldn’t keep secrets about the pain I carried, I needed to be honest.
But knowing something and witnessing it are two separate things. How could I relax if someone cried because of me?
“…I’ve been lacking a lot.”
As I quietly embraced her, Marghetta burrowed deeper into my arms. For a moment, she rested there before finally speaking up.
“I boasted about knowing Carl, and now that I really do know him, I can’t bear it by myself.”
“Handling it isn’t what it’s about. It’s about carrying it together.”
I felt like she was blaming herself for something that wasn’t really her fault. If Marghetta has any sin, it’s in her ignorance.
“Then, does that mean we haven’t shared much until now?”
Wait a minute, isn’t that the conclusion we’ve reached?
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a burden without any help…”
“Marghetta…”
This was unfortunate. Marghetta’s self-esteem had sunk to rock bottom.
‘Did I say too much in a row?’
I had jumped into it too quickly; that thought flickered in my mind. In truth, Marghetta’s emotional state was not good.
I told her the shock of losing Hecate. Marghetta was left feeling embarrassed for not having handled the impact of that wound.
I told her about my visit to the cemetery after receiving a confession from the Second Manager. She felt a lack of support from me and doubted her own capabilities.
‘Now is the time to give it to her.’
My instincts warned me. Whether it was two days later or whatever, it felt like I had to reassure Marghetta immediately, or I risked losing her for good.
Shouldn’t I wait until her birthday to give her the gift? What meaning does that carry if the birthday girl hurts herself in the meantime?
“Marghetta, excuse me.”
I moved faster than ever. I pulled out the ring case, grabbed Marghetta’s left hand, and slid it onto her fourth finger. Not a moment of hesitation was found in the process.
“Marghetta is not a burden. You are a precious part of my life.”
The ring slid onto her finger in an instant. It was so quick that Marghetta merely blinked in surprise.
“I apologize for giving it now. I had wanted to present it on your birthday while you were the happiest.”
I knew this wasn’t a romantic moment.
“But since Marghetta sees herself as a burden, I couldn’t stand to let it go.”
Yet, it felt like there wasn’t time for romance.
“So please, Marghetta. Don’t say strange things. You are my companion; you will be my first wife.”
Once the New Year’s Ball was over, I intended to visit the Iron Duke. I had already promised Marghetta that we would do it.
I was going to bow to the Iron Duke, get his permission to marry, and arrange our engagement. Even with the Second Manager’s confession, my resolve hadn’t changed.
I said all of that to Marghetta, assuring her that no one else could be my first wife.
“…No, this isn’t right, Carl.”
But as Marghetta gazed at the ring with tears in her eyes, she quietly removed it.
…What’s happening? Am I dreaming?
My site has received a lot of DMCA notices, lol. From now on, I will update the MTL on https://darkmtl.com/.
The site is fast and lightweight because there are no ads yet. However, the theme is different from Cybor-TL, so take some time to familiarize yourself.
Support me by donating at least $10, and you'll have the right to request any novel from Novelpia (excluding 19+ content) using a newly developed tool.