Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 83

83.

Pavltin and Unknown boarded a carriage and entered a count's mansion within the Empire—their current hideout.

Pavltin put Unknown in a room and posted guards outside—or rather, watchers. Despite his obedience, they didn't fully trust him, especially recently.

Alone, Unknown fiddled with his ring, pressing the central gem—a small blade emerged. Too short to harm others, but enough for himself.

He couldn't wait any longer.

Let me see the future.

Clutching the candy, he repeated the thought. He wanted to know the man's identity. He rolled up his sleeve and cut his still-unhealed forearm. The deeper the wound, the clearer the future—and soon, he knew.

"Kailun El Frillie."

He'd heard that name before—the Wolf of Pabeln's Intelligence. He'd suspected him many times, and after countless scars, he'd uncovered the truth: a man whose life or death was uncertain.

He laughed silently, shoulders shaking.

"Ibelin El Frillie."

She shared the same surname. So they're blood— she didn't resemble her grandfather, so he hadn't realized.

Resentment exploded.

He could tell Ibelin had been loved—she had a gentle nature, knew how to give love. No wonder someone like Kite fell for her.

His stomach churned. He paced in circles, but the emotions wouldn't hide. Hatred and resentment poured out like a waterfall.

"Yes."

He said aloud.

"Let's kill him."

Kailun El Frillie—killing him would fix everything. His own life was nearly spent; he'd expected to die destroying Teyrin. Taking one more with him wouldn't hurt.

Then a question struck him.

Would that be enough?

No—Kailun must suffer more, to the point where death would be a mercy. He crouched, exhaling deeply.

"I want to have a family when I leave here."

He remembered a friend, chattering about a future that wouldn't come—dead because of Teyrin. But there'd been a chance if Kailun had saved them.

It might be baseless resentment—but what did it matter? He was already walking toward hell; piling up more sin wouldn't change anything.

How to make Kailun suffer most?

"Those he holds dear."

Some value others above themselves—people, honor, property.

Like a beloved granddaughter.

Delving madly into the future, he learned Kailun had many relatives—but only one granddaughter born of his son. The rest were collateral branches who'd found their own paths.

So what must he do?

The answer was one—and it aligned with his original plan: prevent Ibelin from seeing the future. His goal had been to provoke Kite and Leonhardt into hostility with Teyrin, but now it changed.

He exhaled wearily. Disrupting her prophecies wasn't easy—he'd bled trying to enter her dreams.

But I must.

If Ibelin suffered, Kailun would grieve—and Kite would act. He closed his eyes, the encroaching darkness feeling like his own.

---

On the return, Kite avoided passing through cities. It wasn't unreasonable—lords were sensitive to other nobles passing through.

"Why are they sensitive?"

Ibelin asked—Kite answered from the window.

"They think it's improper not to host a visiting noble."

"Ah—for reputation?"

"Yes—and for new connections."

"Higher-ranking nobles would want to entertain more?"

"Something like that."

So avoiding cities was wise. Kite had achieved great things in the North—though he claimed he hadn't done it alone, who'd believe a lady like Ibelin had helped?

Imagine a lord whose city is visited by a high-ranking, celebrated noble—would they stay quiet? No—they'd throw a party.

Though Kite had a bad reputation, it faded farther from the capital; not everyone believed the papers. And even if they did, who could ignore a duke and Swordmaster?

"Wow."

She sighed—good thing they'd avoided cities. She met Kite's eyes and nodded; he smiled.

"Still, we'll stop at a proper village before reaching the capital."

Some were tired from avoiding cities—time to rest.

"Once we arrive, we'll be immediately dressed up, put in a parade, and wave at the crowds."

"So this is our last real break?"

"Yes—just a bit further to Lockbell. Not a city, but sizable, with its own specialty."

"What specialty?"

"Apples—their pie and juice are famous. Do you like apples?"

"Yes."

She loved their scent, texture, taste—she'd had an apple tree in her garden back home.

"And cooked dishes?"

"Apple dishes are delicious too."

Kite answered.

"I like them too."

Just hearing "like" made her heart flutter. When would she get used to this? She pressed her hand to her chest—it would take a while.

"The village!"

Alex called from ahead—she peered out to see a peaceful village with a large orchard, red apples hanging heavily.

"The atmosphere is odd."

Alex tilted his head—the village felt lively, with light steps and cheerful faces. Even the guard at the entrance seemed happy.

Back   Next