NOVEL NEXT Chapter 6
6. Birthday (2)
This is bad.
The Duke of the North had suddenly burst into Arlot's room.
I froze where I was.
Me, on top of Arlot.
A sharp dagger glinting in my hand.
Arlot's face, stained with blood and tears…
To anyone’s eyes, it would seem like I was trying to harm her.
The duke’s presence grew even more menacing as he scanned the room.
"Y-Your Grace…"
I tried to speak in a desperate attempt to defend myself,
But my body, chilled from contact with Arlot, wouldn’t move properly.
The fear of the duke—who looked like he could kill me with his eyes—was overwhelming.
And perhaps that trembling only enraged him more.
The duke vanished from my sight in an instant, and what remained was a brutal fist crashing into my chest.
Thud!
In a blink, I was hurled into the wall.
“Guhk…!”
The air was knocked out of me, and my body sprawled on the floor, unable to even brace the fall. Pain rang through my head.
“...S-Schmitz?”
Arlot’s flustered voice came from somewhere distant.
I didn’t know what I’d been hit by or how I’d flown across the room.
As I forced my hazy mind into focus, sharp pain rippled through my ribs.
…At least a few were probably fractured.
“Get out of my sight, Waltz Schmitz.”
I looked up. The Duke of the North was now standing right in front of me.
The cold look in his eyes—a look I had never seen from my lord—left me speechless.
It was clear that no explanation I gave would change his mind.
Still, I had to try.
Arlot was bleeding from her eyes, and in her current state, she couldn’t speak for herself.
“I… I have to say—”
“If you say one more word, I’ll rip you apart.”
“A-Arlot, she—Gah!”
The duke’s massive hand clamped around my throat.
He stood easily two meters tall.
Lifting me to his eye level, I dangled helplessly, gasping.
“Are you testing my patience?”
His eyes burned like fire as he stared me down.
…Or maybe that was my vision blurring.
My thoughts scattered. My mind faded.
Is this how I die…?
“All that’s kept you alive is the years we’ve known each other, Waltz Schmitz. I swear, I ought to grind you into paste—”
“F-Father! Stop! Aaaaaah!!”
At Arlot’s scream, the duke immediately released me.
I collapsed to the floor, finally catching my breath.
“Agh… it hurts… my eyes again…”
“Are you all right, Arlot?! Doctor! Where is the doctor?!”
His roar shook the mansion.
Yes, with that shout, someone would come soon.
“Ugh…”
Clutching my side, I staggered toward the door.
My entire body screamed, but I didn’t stop.
The duke was too focused on Arlot to stop me—and that was fortunate.
Because now that I had made up my mind, I had to go.
Crossing over the broken doorframe, I looked back at Arlot.
Clutching her eyes again, writhing in fresh agony…
I’ll help you so that pain never returns.
“I don’t know how long it’ll take…”
Ignoring the servants and physicians rushing into her room, I returned to mine.
While everyone was preoccupied with Arlot, this was my only chance.
I had to pack before anyone could stop me.
***
“My lady, are you awake?”
“…Huh?”
The Duke of the North’s only daughter, Eral de Arlot, sat up in bed.
She blinked repeatedly, puzzled.
Then rubbed her eyes.
“My lady, I’m sorry. It’s just…”
The voice came from her left—one she recognized.
It was likely Mary, the chatty and friendly maid.
“I see.”
As she rubbed her eyes, Arlot realized something.
It wasn’t foreign matter keeping her from seeing.
She remembered what had happened before she passed out…
…I really can’t see anymore.
A bitter smile crossed her lips.
She had lost her legs at twelve. Now, at fifteen, her sight was gone.
Just as the doctor had said—her body was shutting down, one piece at a time.
As she lamented her fate, she remembered the last person who had been with her.
“Mary, where is Schmitz?”
“Ah, about that…”
“Is he sleeping? Then could you go wake him for me? I need to speak with him.”
She urged Mary, her voice faintly hurried.
She couldn’t see Mary’s face, but it didn’t matter.
She had to see Schmitz again.
She remembered hearing shouting between him and her father just before she passed out.
[Get out of here, Waltz Schmitz.]
[Are you testing my patience?]
The harsh voice her father had never shown in front of her.
Even just hearing it had been terrifying. What must Schmitz have felt facing it directly?
If her father had hurt him… she was the only one who could clear that misunderstanding.
The best way was to check for herself.
“M-Mary, why won’t you answer? Did something happen? Please tell me.”
“My lady… please don’t be startled.”
Rustle.
Someone’s hands gently wrapped around her left hand.
Likely Mary’s—and they were trembling.
Arlot held her breath, waiting for her words.
And when they came, she could hardly believe them.
“…The truth is, Schmitz has left the mansion.”
“…What?”
He left. Schmitz. The mansion.
She understood the words, but not what they meant.
Or maybe she just didn’t want to understand.
“Schmitz left…? Why?”
“I’m sorry… By the time we tried to stop him, he had already fled. We’re still investigating who might have ordered the assassination.”
“Wait, what? What are you talking about?”
Still trying to process the news, Arlot heard Mary continue.
Escape. Assassination. Orders. Investigation.
All those terms added up to only one possible meaning.
“…You think Schmitz tried to assassinate me?”
“Yes. It’s been confirmed. He left behind only a hastily written note… and His Grace testified that he tried to stab you in bed.”
It’s a misunderstanding.
What she feared had come to pass.
A misunderstanding born while she was unconscious and unable to defend him…
She had to correct it now.
“That's not it. Schmitz—”
“I understand. It must be hard to believe. You’ve spent your whole life together, and for him to betray you like this…”
Mary’s hand gently stroked hers.
As she pitied her, Mary continued to cast Schmitz as the villain.
That touch was unbearable.
Smack.
“My lady?”
“Ah… ah…”
Arlot slapped her hand away and covered her face with both hands.
It was all her fault.
If she hadn’t clung to him…
If she had called someone else instead…
If she hadn’t begged him to end her life with his dagger…
Then none of this would’ve happened.
Suddenly, one thing Mary had said stuck in her mind.
A letter. A note left behind by Schmitz.
“…What did Schmitz’s letter say?”
“My lady…”
“Tell me. Now!”
Mary gasped.
Of course she was shocked.
Arlot had never spoken harshly to a servant before.
But if she didn’t push now, she’d go mad.
Her heart pounded like it would explode. Her breathing came in gasps.
Every pulse throbbed in her temples, rattling her skull.
She felt like she might collapse at any moment—
But she had to hear it.
Schmitz’s final message.
If he hadn’t told the servants directly, but wrote it down instead… then it was probably meant for her.
“He wrote… ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t grant your request, as a friend.’”
“…”
Arlot fell silent.
It was nothing like she’d expected.
No plea to clear his name when she woke.
No blame for what she’d done.
As she processed those words, her body began to tremble.
What have I done…?
The ‘request’ he mentioned… was her plea for him to kill her.
She had begged him.
Of all people, him.
[Schmitz… are you crying?]
[Ah… th-this is…]
She remembered when she was eight.
When she writhed in pain during a meal—and saw tears in his eyes.
She’d thought he was just a sensitive boy.
But that wasn’t all there was to it.
[It’s a bit rough, but… I made it myself, just for you.]
[Hehe… You’re clearly a beginner.]
She remembered being twelve.
The flower crown, made with care from roses he grew in barren soil, just for her.
Every little thing he did was for her.
He wished for her survival and recovery every single day.
Not as a servant, but as someone who truly cared.
And yet—
[Kill me. We’re… friends, right?]
She remembered asking him.
The one who cried for her, who devoted himself to her.
She’d asked that of the only person who believed in her life.
And even when he was branded a traitor because of it…
He apologized for not granting her wish.
“…My lady!”
Arlot fell from the bed like a puppet with cut strings.
Guilt and gratitude toward Schmitz.
Self-hatred and fury.
Fear and sorrow that she might never see him again.
The whirlwind of emotions shattered her already fragile mind.