CH 40

(King Gray’s POV) The Fiancée Seen at the End of Oblivion

Why.

What went wrong?

Where did he go wrong?

No, what did he do wrong in the first place?

Both of Gray’s wrists are bound by ropes.

The wound on his shoulder was treated. It was a minimal treatment, consisting of stitching the wound and taking antibiotics to prevent infection.

In its condition, the wound would hurt every time the carriage moved, but he had fallen into a position where he couldn’t even voice his complaints.

While officially it was called “confinement,” the treatment resembled that of a high-profile criminal. The knight seated beside Gray, with a sword at his waist, was a clear indication that any attempt to escape would be futile.

Where would he even escape to in the first place?

All the people Gray relied on have been captured.

There is no one to call for help.

Suddenly, he wonders if they were able to escape, would they come to help him?

In response to the sudden thought that came to mind, Gray let out a soundless laugh, his head lowered.

He did not know.

The nobles who had been answering his questions throughout his life were not by his side.

However, even if he wanted to think for himself, not a single idea came to his mind.

I see, so this is what it means for him to be a puppet.

Was this the true meaning of Risel’s words to Gray that day?

The carriage window was closed, and he couldn’t tell where they were heading.

The White Tower, which is considered a detached palace, is said to be surrounded by a secluded forest far away from the royal capital.

It is a place where the pampered royal family, who have lived in a sheltered environment, have no means of escape.

While riding in the shaky carriage, not a single person speaks to Gray.

For Gray, who had never been alone with his thoughts in the royal palace, this time seemed strangely peaceful.

Upon reflection, Gray realized that there had always been someone by his side if anything happened. Whether it was a maid, a vassal, or a guard.

Everyone seemed to revolve around Gray, but in reality, they were merely managing the puppet that he was.

There was no one he could consider family by his side, and the only memory he could grasp onto was his anger towards Tia’s actions.

Despite having spent many years in the royal palace, Gray had surprisingly few memories or recollections of his time there.

The only memories that came to mind were those from the time Rosemary arrived at the royal palace, for some reason.

“From today onwards, I will be staying here.”

With a graceful curtsy, his fiancée came to offer her greetings.

“Prince. If you’re willing, would you like to come to the library with me? It’s important to make time for reading.”

Rosemary kindly suggested a book for him to read.

“Prince Gray. Please go back to the teacher. The lesson is important for the prince.”

He can’t quite recall how he responded to Rosemary’s admonition.

Most likely, he responded with a dismissive and curt attitude, indicating that she was too persistent and bothersome.

Ah, but one time.

There was only one time when he went out with Rosemary, just the two of them.

His father, the former king, told him that he should spend time with his fiancée once in a while, and he went with her to visit the royal family’s grave together.

In the first place, he hasn’t been visiting the gravesite at all lately, and that includes the period since his father’s passing.

In the land that stretched out as a meadow, a little distance away from the royal palace, white tombstones were scattered across the open field.

The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, and the gentle breeze felt pleasant.

Rosemary, wearing a black dress to honor the deceased, maintained a quiet and solemn demeanor. Gray, having donned attire similar to mourning garments prepared by the maids, showcased his silver hair, while Rosemary’s hair gleamed with a golden hue, providing a vibrant contrast.

With the bouquet in her hands, Rosemary offers a heartfelt tribute to her late mother, grandparents, and ancestors, paying her respects.

Rosemary, with her hands clasped together, offers her prayers in silence, without her usual verbose manner.

Gray had been observing her actions the entire time.

He mused vaguely about whether someday they would both rest somewhere among these tombstones.

Rosemary, who had been offering her prayers, noticed Gray’s unconscious gaze and looked up, their eyes meeting.

The unexpected meeting of their gazes caused a momentary awkwardness, but Rosemary responded by offering a smile to Gray.

“What were you praying for?”

Feeling the need to say something, he blurted out whatever came to mind.

It should be evident from observing her actions that she was offering her prayers and exchanging words with the departed.

However, Gray, who was not used to conversing with Rosemary, ended up asking the obvious.

But Rosemary’s response caught Gray off guard, as it was something he had never imagined.

“I was praying for your protection and well-being, Gray-sama.”

Rosemary, whose flowers are like wild roses blooming in a wide field…

He had thought of her as more plain than any noblewomen…

However, at that moment, he believed she was more beautiful than any flowers he had ever seen.

‘I wonder why I had forgotten…’

Gray knew that his former fiancée, who used to consider others more than herself, would never entertain the idea of harming another person.

When did he forget?

It has been twenty years since Rosemary passed away.

Gray, though, had long since forgotten her face.

‘Ah, come to think of it…’

He closed his eyes and remembered.

That baron’s daughter who sentenced him…

She might have looked like Rosemary.