Callius nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Of course. I engineered the situation specifically to achieve that outcome."
"I knew it." I exhaled slowly. "Shortly after I discussed marriage with you, Kavala abruptly changed my marriage partner."
"However..." I hesitated, the words catching in my throat.
How honest can I afford to be with him? How much dare I trust him?
I remembered the oath I'd sworn while gripping that sword—the vow that had kept me alive through the darkest nights.
"Karl, from this moment forward, I trust only you and myself. I won't trust anyone else. I refuse to live so foolishly again."
I had believed in Andrea and Kavala, and they'd rewarded that trust with the cruelest betrayal imaginable.
The only thing that had never betrayed me—right up until the moment of my death—was Karl.
How long has it been since you made that promise before you're already trying to trust someone else again?
The anxiety lurking inside me laughed mockingly at my weakness.
Even those you've known your entire life deceived and manipulated you. You've only known this man for a short time. Do you really plan to repeat your foolish mistakes just because he's treated you kindly for a few days?
I clenched my fist until my nails bit into my palm.
I can't trust anyone. I don't want to experience that pain again.
Haven't I learned throughout my life that I possess a remarkably poor ability to distinguish between those I can trust and those I cannot?
If you can't see clearly, the safest course is to stay huddled in your room, away from danger.
By the same logic, trusting no one but my sword felt like the surest way to protect myself.
It was extreme, yes—but wasn't it certain?
I was still losing sleep at night, still trembling with fear from the memory of being murdered by those I'd trusted most in the world.
The only thing I desperately wanted now was to never hurt like that again.
But why, at this precise moment, did Lhasa's words echo through my mind?
"You have to believe in yourself."
Right now, believing in myself felt like the hardest thing in the world.
My heart urged me to trust Callius, to share my secrets so I could finally have support and help. But my experience screamed warnings that such vulnerability was far too dangerous.
When she asks me to trust myself, does she mean trust my experience? Or trust my heart?
"Don't hesitate to do what you think is right."
Lhasa's determined gaze overlapped in my mind with Callius's expression as he watched me now, patient and waiting.
There was nothing artificial in his warm gaze, his kind demeanor, his friendly humor.
It felt completely different from when Andrea or Kavala had been "kind" to me.
I felt grateful to be with Callius.
With Andrea, I had constantly apologized as if it were a compulsive habit.
"Can't you manage even this simple thing yourself? Gods, just don't do anything at all. Your merely staying still would be the greatest help. I'll handle everything."
"I'm sorry, Brother... I'm so pathetic."
"You know what? You should be truly grateful to have an older brother like me. What a blessing for you."
I had felt helpless and worthless in Andrea's presence. And I'd resented myself bitterly for that weakness.
But since being with Callius, I'd found the courage to try things again.
He'd encouraged me to challenge myself by eating unfamiliar meals with my bare hands. He'd made me feel safe enough to sleep comfortably in unfamiliar beds, despite the discomfort.
It was entirely thanks to Callius that I hadn't abandoned this journey to Ronheim halfway through.
His patient explanations had made me feel more curious than afraid of new experiences. His careful attention to my physical condition had allowed me to reach this destination without becoming too exhausted.
The reason I wanted to open my heart to Callius wasn't simply because he resembled Karl.
I had finally reached that conclusion.
After a long moment of internal struggle, I made my decision and spoke:
"Do you know that the Empress doesn't trust me?"
"I suspected as much. She was the reason you wanted to leave the palace."
"Then do you also understand that I have to pretend to cooperate with Kavala—at least for the time being?"
I wasn't certain he'd believe me if I claimed to be cooperating while secretly planning to betray her.
I still didn't know exactly how Kavala would pressure me, or how she might respond to my eventual betrayal.
But I'm certain she wouldn't have sent me to Ronheim without contingency plans.
She wouldn't be satisfied with simply ordering her maids to watch me. She'd have devised multiple ways to force me to do exactly what she wanted.
I would have to feign cooperation to some extent—at least until I'd identified what traps she'd set and found ways to dismantle them.
I didn't know if Callius would understand. Or if he'd think I was lying to him, planning to act as a double agent.
I searched desperately for ways to explain myself so he would trust me.
I was busy mentally composing arguments to make him understand the depth of my hatred for Kavala and Andrea—all without mentioning my death in my past life.
But contrary to all my anxious expectations, Callius didn't ask "Why?"
"Are the maids you brought watching you on her behalf?"
I blinked at him, startled. "You... you believe what I'm telling you?"
"If I don't believe my wife, who in this world will I believe?"
And then he smiled.
I was utterly speechless.
The complicated worries I'd been wrestling with—all my careful planning about how to make him believe me—suddenly became meaningless.
You believe what your wife says?
In my past life, throughout a marriage spanning nearly ten years, Viscount Pelsus had never trusted me for a single moment.
Far from believing me, he'd treated me as if I were insane, dismissing everything I said as the nonsensical ravings of a madwoman. He'd never listened to anything I said—even hearing my voice had seemed to frustrate him beyond measure.
But Callius was listening to everything I said.
Even though I hadn't presented any concrete evidence to support my claims.
For some reason, I felt tears threatening to spill, so I looked away from him and focused on the firewood burning in the brazier.
"What if I'm deceiving you...?"
"People who are genuinely trying to deceive don't say things like that."
He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring.
"Besides, Chloe—your expression didn't look at all comfortable when you were dealing with those maids."
When did he even notice my expression?
Callius studied my face with gentle concern. "Are you crying?"
"It's just from staring at the fire too long. My eyes hurt."
I shook my head and quickly wiped the moisture from my eyes.
He gave a faint smile that told me it was perfectly acceptable to cry, then took a deep breath and continued:
"My maids are watching Callius, not me. The Empress doesn't trust me—she thinks I'm hopelessly naive."
I looked up and met his eyes directly.
"They're searching Ronheim for any pretext they can use to banish you. Please be careful."
But his expression appeared more amused than worried.
"Don't worry. I understand better than anyone what she wants from me. She won't be able to do anything truly damaging until she obtains it—and she won't give up on that goal easily."
I knew that what Kavala and Andrea desperately wanted was Callius's life.
Andrea had wanted to kill Callius all along—that much had been clear in my previous life.
But Callius spoke as if what they desired wasn't his death, but something else entirely.
Is it my imagination? Or is it his misunderstanding?
Regardless, he seemed sufficiently wary of Kavala's machinations. I didn't think I needed to press the issue further.
I hugged my knees to my chest and murmured softly:
"Thank you. For believing in me."
Perhaps he didn't hear me—there was no immediate response.
It didn't matter whether he'd heard or not. I'd simply wanted to voice those feelings.
But then, after a long, contemplative silence, he murmured just as softly as I had:
"I'm sorry. I left you isolated, knowing full well that my knights were suspicious of you."
I lifted my face from my knees to look at him properly.
"It's only natural that the people of Ronheim would hate me."
"If I had known you wanted to break away from the Idelian royal family, I wouldn't have handled things that way. Knowing what I know now, yet failing to explain the situation to my subordinates... I owe you an apology for that."
"Why didn't you tell them?"
I couldn't help but ask.
Callius's eyes took on a melancholy quality as he spoke of his followers.
"Because I still lack the qualities necessary to properly lead and encompass everyone as their commander should."
It was an ambiguous statement, difficult to fully understand.
I didn't press him to elaborate.
It seems Callius has his own struggles, too.
Just as I couldn't tell him that I'd lived through death and returned to the past, he had things he couldn't share with me.
That was a separate matter from the question of trust.
I suppose I'll never be able to tell anyone about what I experienced in my past life.
It wasn't just that the story was too painful to speak aloud. It was also a shameful past I desperately wanted to erase from existence.
It was something my pride would never allow me to confess.
I understood that he might have similar secrets, because I possessed ones I was determined to keep hidden.
"Everyone has things they can't tell others."
I looked at him steadily.
I wanted to tell him that it was all right—that I understood.
Just as Lamia had whispered comfort to me when I'd been panicking, calming me as if under a gentle spell.
I'd felt an indescribable sense of relief in that moment.
I wanted to convey that same feeling to Callius now.
But I wasn't confident in my ability.
Can someone like me truly provide that kind of comfort to another person—the way Lamia did for me?
I began to doubt whether I possessed that capacity at all.
Unable to find the right words, I simply looked at Callius, hoping somehow my gaze alone would communicate my understanding.
For some reason, he held my gaze for a long time as well.
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