Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 115

115.

Each time Taysh's cart rattled, Pavltin's body flopped ungracefully like a sack of goods.

"Ugh!"

Even unconscious, he let out groans, but Taysh paid no mind—humming a tune, he quickened his pace.

"Is it really all right to handle the head of Teyrin's Intelligence like this?"

At Kailun's question, Martin shrugged.

"We don't plan to make it official, so it doesn't matter."

Typically, when a noble is taken hostage between nations, they're released for a hefty ransom. But Martin had no intention of revealing they'd captured Pavltin. The information they could extract from him was worth far more than any payment.

"True enough."

"More importantly—that one."

Martin turned to Kailun.

"Are you taking him?"

On his back, Unknown hung bloodied and broken. Though they harbored different emotions, they'd spent a lifetime chasing each other—Kailun out of guilt, Unknown out of hatred.

"I am."

"You know he's dangerous."

"Still, I can't hand him over."

Artificial seer or not, Unknown's value was immense. Martin coveted him—he was more important than Pavltin. But Kailun was her friend, and Kite showed little interest in the gains Unknown could bring.

Complicated.

Moreover, Kailun was the grandfather of Kite's beloved. If push came to shove, Kite would likely side with him—and the Emperor trusted Kite completely.

"Pity."

Martin finally gave up. Kailun clicked his tongue.

Ibelin wanted to walk on her own, but Kite insisted she couldn't after being hurt and carried her. She hadn't even handed over the documents she'd gathered—and the mood wasn't right. Looking up at Kite, his expression was different from usual. Calm on the surface, but clearly displeased.

Not unreasonable.

She'd rushed into danger of her own accord—she had to accept the consequences.

By now, the forces outside the mansion had grown: Pabeln's Intelligence agents, the knights, and reinforcements from the Emperor. He'd also sent several carriages—one for Ibelin, the rest to discreetly transport the Teyrin captives.

Even after she boarded, Kite remained silent. She almost wished he'd get angry instead.

Hesitating, she slipped her hand beneath her skirt—she'd strapped the documents to her thigh for lack of a better place.

"Lord Kite."

"...?"

"You should see this."

She carefully pulled out a thick stack of folded papers. They were crumpled but legible.

He sighed and took them.

"This is..."

"Things Pavltin had hidden in the safehouse."

His eyes hardened—the Teyrin seal was plainly stamped on the secret correspondence, followed by ledgers tracing funds that flowed from Pabeln to Teyrin. Some were encrypted, but Kite was used to such things.

"This will be very useful."

"Right?"

Relieved, she straightened her hunched posture.

"Of course, that doesn't mean you did well."

"O-of course..."

She deflated again. They couldn't bring Draven down immediately, but they could weaken him—the money trail led to him too. At the very least, they could keep him away from the Emperor.

Leaning back, Kite thought—she was remarkable for diving into danger to obtain this. But he was also angry. To think she'd risked her life for scraps of paper! He tucked the documents away and looked at her.

"You don't look well."

"Why might that be? Why would I be in a bad mood?"

"Because I caused trouble?"

"No—trouble is fine. Do whatever you want. What I can't stand is you coming back hurt."

"...I'm sorry."

"Think of it this way—if I came back wounded, would you be fine?"

She looked up sharply.

"No—absolutely not!"

"Good. Don't forget that resolve."

He fell silent. For the rest of the journey, Ibelin felt as if she were sitting on pins and needles.

---

At Pabeln's palace.

As soon as they reached safety, Ibelin and Unknown received medical treatment. Her wounds were mostly scrapes and bruises, nothing serious.

Unknown's condition was dire—broken ribs and internal injuries from Pavltin's beating. Despite treatment, he suffered a high fever for three days, hovering between life and death.

On the afternoon of the fourth day—

Unknown slowly opened his eyes in an unfamiliar room. Warm sunlight filled the space, and a bitter herbal scent lingered. Touching his body, he found bandages everywhere; the smell seemed to come from here.

Beside him, a white-clad boy nodded drowsily—an apprentice physician, perhaps. As he stared blankly, a voice came from above.

"You're awake."

Unknown tried to rise to see the speaker, but sharp pain forced him back down.

"Kailun."

Kailun El Frillie—the man he'd spent his life hating, wanting to kill—looked down at him with a calm face.

Unknown's brow trembled. Though he'd lost the will to kill him, the long-held emotions hadn't fully faded.

"Why... did you spare me?"

His cracked voice asked painfully.

"I saw the future to bring down Pabeln. I worked to kill you—and I even endangered your granddaughter. Yet you spared me?"

Kailun wore a bitter expression. He woke the sleeping apprentice and sent him out, then sat in the empty chair.

"Unknown—I think it's only natural you hate me. I promised to save you, and I failed."

There were reasons, but the fact remained—he hadn't kept his promise.

"So it's fine if you hate me."

"If it's fine to hate me..."

At Kailun's words, the tension drained from him. Hearing his hatred spoken of so plainly made him feel strangely at ease.

"I know, really."

The one he should hate wasn't Kailun. It was Teyrin who had made them test subjects, who had killed his friends. But the hope he'd briefly tasted had been so sweet that he'd resented the one who'd given it to him.

"The truth is..."

Tears he'd long forgotten streamed down his cheeks. Kailun hadn't been wrong. Given the circumstances, saving Unknown would have meant sacrificing everything—and he hadn't done that. But later, he'd faked his own death and moved to correct his past mistakes.

For Unknown.

Back   Next