* * *
The Master did his part perfectly. He kept gathering information to prove Vivisian’s innocence—and even managed to bring the former steward right to Hesia.
“Think carefully. I’m going to kill the Duke. Do you really think I can’t kill someone like you?”
Hesia recalled the middle-aged man, trembling and promising to confess everything at just those words.
Seeing someone who’d ruined another’s life so easily now desperately clinging to his own—it was impossible to summon any sympathy.
“What’s life even worth, huh.”
Muttering to himself, Hesia lowered his gaze to the hand clutching at his ankle.
“Oh, you’re still alive? Damn, you’re persistent.”
In a voice thick with disgust, Hesia looked down at Letiyan, who had grabbed his ankle with a trembling hand.
Letiyan, face twisted with fear and fury, gasped out:
“Someone… will come. You—how dare you—kill the Duke—! You’ll die for this!”
“You’ll die first. Probably.”
With a gentle whisper, Hesia shook his ankle free.
That light motion alone was enough to break free from Letiyan’s grasp.
Thanks to the Master, he’d snuck into the castle before dawn—but leaving wouldn’t be so easy.
Hesia wanted to watch Letiyan die with his own eyes.
He wanted the world to know Letiyan hadn’t been assassinated in secret, but had been killed by someone who loved Vivisian.
Besides, he hadn’t asked the Master for help with this part—he didn’t want him dragged into it.
That’s why Hesia now sat in Letiyan’s bedroom, watching him die, fully expecting to be caught afterward.
Killing a Duke meant death, but… if everything went according to plan, the truth would be revealed afterward.
A murderer becoming a hero—it could happen in a flash.
And Letiyan, the idiot, didn’t even realize—Haen would figure out Hesia’s identity in no time.
Even if he had stepped down as heir, Haen would avoid a diplomatic mess with the duchy at all costs.
He was cold, calculating—the most strategic man Hesia had ever known while investigating Vivisian’s past.
“I knew it. You won’t kill me. You’ll be the only one who dies.”
Rather, it wouldn’t be surprising if he used this incident as an excuse to strike a deal with the Prince Consort.
Letiyan was doomed to fall to the bottom anyway, even if Hesia hadn’t killed him—thanks to the former butler’s revelations.
Leaving him as a duke would bring nothing good. Maybe he’d even be grateful for being removed.
With a small scoff at his own thoughts, Hesia leaned against the window frame, watching Letiyan slowly die.
Maybe it was because he wasn’t afraid of death.
Or maybe because he had no expectations left in life.
Unlike Vivisian, who had accepted death as if falling asleep, Letiyan thrashed about, desperately trying to live.
It was still early dawn, and as someone who usually kept people at a distance, there wasn’t a soul around him now.
Watching the trail of blood that stretched across the floor behind the crawling man, Hesia pressed his fingers to his temple.
He suddenly recalled the blood Vivisian used to cough up, and his stomach churned.
“Is no one here?! Anyone—cough—I said, is no one there?! The Duke, he’s—dying—ghk…!”
Unable to stand the noise any longer, Hesia walked over and grabbed Letiyan by the hair.
“Shut up… You killed people like it was nothing. Didn’t you ever imagine your own death?”
Letiyan, who had remained silent even when a blade was driven into his heart, and when Hesia had pleaded with him—his eyes flickered with sudden realization at those words.
Forcing his broken body upright, he staggered into a sitting position and stammered:
“You… you hold a grudge, don’t you? Right? It wasn’t me. It—it was my brother, he—”
“I came here already knowing that, so keep your mouth shut, Letiyan.”
At Hesia’s reply—devoid of lies, heavy with cold, restrained fury—Letiyan slumped forward and coughed up blood.
“So, you found out everything… Someone finally knows…”
Perhaps he wasn’t a complete fool.
Letiyan went quiet after that.
He knew now—this person who had discovered everything he’d done wouldn’t just kill him physically but would bury him completely, even socially.
He had done the same before.
Destroyed someone socially, then took their life.
So it was only natural that Letiyan could predict his own end.
With a strangely calm face, he lifted his head and stared into the air.
“Are you… are you family?”
“Family? No. But you’re right—he was someone who was left behind. Because you killed him so mercilessly.”
Letiyan, remembering there had been no such family among the survivors, strained his foggy mind to think.
After a pause, he reached a single conclusion.
“…Vivisian.”
“That’s right.”
“A… revenge, then?”
“Revenge…? It’s not something so grand. And Vivisian didn’t want me to get revenge, either. This is just… self-satisfaction.”
With a faint smile in his voice, Hesia sat on the window ledge, swinging his legs like a boy.
He tilted his head slightly, gazing out the window.
The garden held none of the blue flowers Vivisian had loved.
Though everyone in this castle denied him, no one had truly escaped Vivisian.
‘Sia, how much do you think you’ll miss me?’
Surely, forever.
Seeing how no one else had escaped Vivisian’s shadow, Hesia smiled faintly, imagining his own future.
“What will you do when I’m dead?”
“I’ll reveal all your crimes. And I’ll clear Vivisian’s name. Because of you, he can’t even find peace. He can’t return to the earth, or rest in a place he loved.”
The last time Hesia saw Vivisian, he had been lying—just as the Prince Consort had promised—among a luxurious bed of hydrangeas that would never wilt.
‘I… I might never come back here. Vivisian, this might be the last time I see you. So… can I kiss you one more time?’
After that timid request, when no reply came, Hesia had quietly wept, then gently kissed Vivisian’s forehead.
Remembering that moment, he was pulled back to reality by the sound of Letiyan coughing blood.
“Looks like you’re about to die.”
With a flat tone, Hesia announced the end of a man.
Even after Letiyan died, he stayed there for a long while.
The sun slowly rose behind him, pouring light into the room, until one of the servants knocked on the door, as usual.
“Duke, it’s Kenya. I’ve brought your wash water. May I come in?”
When there was no immediate response, the person behind the door grew visibly anxious.
The Duke always coughed around this time… Her nervous voice carried through, and soon she called others.
Debates over whether to open the door could be heard outside.
As they grew louder, Hesia finally crossed the room.
With each step, blood stuck to his shoes.
At the end of the trail of red, standing before the door, Hesia gently opened it.
After all the commotion, the face seen through the narrow gap was that of a complete stranger.
For a moment, everyone froze at the unfamiliar man emerging from the Duke’s chambers.
But then, a maid spotted Letiyan’s collapsed body behind him, and chaos erupted.
A knight, summoned in case of emergency, immediately restrained Hesia while the staff rushed to Letiyan.
“Duke! Duke!”
“He’s not—he’s not breathing!”
“Wh-what do we do…? Someone get Count De Winter! Anyone! Bring Count De Winter!”
At the commanding voice, everyone scattered.
Hesia stood silently as the knight bound him, unconcerned with their terrified expressions.
He remained still until the staff returned with Haen.
Given the gravity of the situation, Haen had come running without even dressing properly.
Upon assessing the scene, he approached Hesia and, removing the half-mask he wore, muttered:
“You… you’re that slave boy.”
“Wow. Impressive memory.”
His softly spoken admiration made a few people flinch.
Everyone knew how cruelly that boy had been treated in this castle—and that someone of high status had taken him away.
Whispers of “revenge” spread, and some faces turned pale at the thought: ‘What if I’m next?’
Then—
“Duke! It’s an emergency. All over the duchy, posters have been put up insulting the Duke and defending the criminal Vivisian. In the square, the former butler is riling people up with strange talk—what in the world is going on?!”
The knight guarding the front gate had come running, panicked.
At his words, Haen was the first to respond.
“Vivisian… No—did you say inciting?”
“Y-yes. But right now, I don’t even… Duke!”
Only then did the knight see the Duke’s corpse and recoil in shock.
While the others murmured in confusion, Haen turned to look at Hesia, who stood there with a languid expression, like a well-fed lion.
This wasn’t just murder.
This was a statement—part of something bigger.
Once he pieced it all together, Haen finally spoke, slow and measured:
“…You there. Bring me one of those posters.”
The knight stared blankly before sprinting down the hallway.
When he returned, the poster he held was long—and so perfectly written that there was no room for argument.
“…Ha…”
The Duke’s assassination.
The unveiling of truths Letiyan had kept hidden.
Everything flowed seamlessly.
Even someone who knew nothing could tell—this wasn’t a simple act of vengeance.
And Haen, who was certainly no fool, looked at Hesia with wide, stunned eyes.
Very likely, this man was the mastermind behind it all.
* * *
