* * *
As he neared death, he began to hear hallucinations along with visions.
Fragments of memories faintly remaining flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.
A young boy sitting in a corner of a room, hugging his legs and burying his face. Carlyle realized that the child was his younger self.
He was eleven years old.
That winter, his parents, the former Duke and Duchess, passed away, and he immediately inherited the title.
Perhaps because he received the title at such a young age, endless jealousy and envy surrounded him.
Among them were collateral relatives who wanted to kill him and seize the ducal seat.
He grit his teeth and endured.
He had come close to death after consuming poison mixed into his food, and he had to soak his bed completely with blood due to assassins who broke in during the night.
Nevertheless, he endured and kept enduring.
He knew that enduring was the only way he could survive.
Thus, he reached adulthood.
Those who had ignored and disparaged him in his childhood now bowed their heads.
They knelt before him, begging pitifully, as if they had no pride left.
Some cunningly clung to his side, wagging their tails, saying they had always known he would elevate the Firentium Duchy’s reputation one day.
Because he had only ever been treated with contempt until then, he naively believed them, unable to grasp the true nature of their flattery.
He later realized that it was merely treachery, but by then, it was too late.
He had been drafted as a military commander through their schemes.
The first time he participated in a war, he was twenty.
It was the autumn of the year he had just come of age.
After persistently enduring a year of war and returning to the Empire, he had become a war hero.
The Emperor rejoiced, bestowing every possible reward, and the officials who had sent the young Carlyle to the battlefield trembled with fear.
They had no choice.
They had thrown him onto the battlefield to die, yet not only did he return alive, but he also held the title of war hero and had earned the Emperor’s trust.
After tidying up all the subsidiaries of his family, the Emperor’s order to participate in the war was heard again.
Each time he went to war following the command, victory was what he brought back.
The more he did so, the more the Emperor sent him back to the battlefield.
The excuses were varied: You are the only person I can trust, or The northern territories are close to your ducal lands.
Eventually, even such excuses stopped, and only unilateral orders to bring back victory were issued.
‘Should I just die? Wouldn’t it be better to just die here?’
Such a thought came to him in the seventh year of being manipulated by the Emperor and growing accustomed to the battlefield.
As an enemy’s sword charged straight for his heart, he heard someone’s desperate cry of “I don’t want to die” from afar.
That cry instinctively made him block the sword, and he was forced to continue living.
When he went into the tent of the person who had interrupted his death, intending to resent him, he encountered a soldier attempting to violate him.
At first, he tried to ignore it, but the desperation in the plea for help led him to save him without thinking.
That was when he first met Eren.
A transparent and fragile appearance that didn’t suit the battlefield.
Silver hair that shone brilliantly, as if it could not be tainted.
All of it instinctively caused him to dodge the enemy’s sword and cut down the soldier attempting to violate him.
Eren thanked him for saving him and pulled out something precious he was carrying.
It was a dagger, adorned with jade and sapphire, that looked exactly like one of his own.
Handing it over, he pleaded with Carlyle to save him again if a similar situation ever arose.
What Carlyle saw in those eyes was trust.
A conviction that he would be saved if he ever fell into danger again.
After leaving Eren’s tent, he only then realized that Eren was a newly appointed commander.
He was participating in the war for the first time, and coincidentally, he was also twenty.
The emotion that followed his surprise was a feeling of affinity.
During their time on the battlefield, Eren never acted as friendly as he did when they first met.
However, one thing remained unchanged.
“Your Excellency will surely be able to do it.”
A phrase Eren uttered while looking directly into his eyes, ignoring those who called his strategy excessive.
What was contained in that was certainty, and what flickered in his eyes when looking at Carlyle was trust.
That was when his gaze began to follow Eren.
Even when he tried not to look, he would find himself only looking at Eren.
Since he rarely had a chance to see him unless he participated in the war, he obeyed the Emperor’s orders to participate in subsequent wars without a single complaint.
At first, he did not know that the feeling he harbored for Eren was ‘love.’
He only realized it after Eren suddenly disappeared during the war with Trovien.
That day, he felt anxiety for the first time.
‘Had he gotten hurt somewhere, or was someone violating him again?’
As a result of persistently searching for Eren’s whereabouts, he learned that he was in the Trovien Empire.
He wanted to go to Eren immediately, but since Trovien was under a truce, he couldn’t simply defect.
So, he decided to abandon his homeland. Epentel without Eren meant nothing.
He went to Trovien to see Eren, even bringing the Emperor’s head with him.
But the first thing he saw was Eren clinging to Ashard Fridit.
If he acknowledged the love he felt for Eren, he would also have to admit his jealousy, so he began to deny his feelings for Eren completely.
It was useless to regret it now, but he shouldn’t have denied his heart back then.
Why did he cling to that pride, knowing that he was hurting Eren, and yet he couldn’t stop?
“It would have been better if you had behaved obediently. This is all your fault.”
Why did he utter such words?
While blaming Eren verbally, he vaguely realized it.
That he was the one who caused this situation.
He knew he had inflicted too much pain on Eren, but it was already too late. In the form of ‘Carlyle Firentium,’ he had no justification to remain by Eren’s side.
So, he decided to stay by his side, even if it was in the guise of Ashard Fridit.
He was tormented, knowing that every single kind word Eren spoke was not directed at him, but he was still happy to be able to remain by his side.
Not knowing that all of it would be useless.
“Die for me.”
It was the first sincere request Eren had made in a long time, and even that was welcome.
It was a side of Eren he thought he would never see in his true form, not as Ashard.
That was the only reason he held the dagger Eren offered.
His blurry vision suddenly returned to clarity.
Eren’s face, looking down at him without any emotion, filled his sight.
He stared without taking his eyes away, but alas, his vision continued to repeat the cycle of blurring and clearing.
“…Ye, ruen…”
“…”
“I’m… in pain… It hurts… Just as you wished… fully…”
“…”
“So… smile for me…”
If my pain brings you happiness, then use my death as a stepping stone and smile brightly.
His voice could barely be heard, and Carlyle’s words scattered haltingly.
Eren silently looked down at him, then smiled brightly.
Not because of Carlyle’s request, but because he was genuinely happy about his death.
He didn’t feel the need to do anything extra for Carlyle.
It just so happened that what they both wanted was the same.
“If there is a next life,”
“…Let’s meet… again…”
“Let’s never meet again, Your Excellency the Duke.”
The title Eren called him by returned to his original name.
But Carlyle paid no mind to it.
Eren’s words echoed in repetition.
‘If there is a next life, let’s never meet again.’
He had hoped that if there was a next life, he could watch Eren’s happy face from nearby.
But it seems he shouldn’t have wished for that.
Ah, even this was selfish.
Carlyle nodded his head with difficulty, which he could no longer move, and replied.
“…Fine.”
Let’s never meet again.
Not even in death, not in the next life.
It seemed better that way.
Rather than hurting Eren again, or causing him pain, it would be better not to meet.
‘I wish we hadn’t met in this life, either.’
If only they had remained strangers forever.
Then he would have never loved Eren, nor hurt him.
Even though Carlyle thought so, Eren and Carlyle were an inevitable encounter, fate.
Fate was not something woven by the hands of mere humans.
Despite this, Carlyle blamed their unfortunate destiny.
‘I wished you wouldn’t be a fleeting connection, but I shouldn’t have wished at all.’
His consciousness faded.
He could no longer see Eren’s face.
Carlyle vaguely realized that this was his end.
* * *
