Transmigrated Into A Tragic Romance Fantasy – Chapter 68

Intersected Stories

November in the Northern Territories.

Logan Winterfell gazed down at his lands, where everything that had melted was now frozen solid, preparing for the winter.

In his hand, he held a glass of wine.

The busy duties of a family head, the responsibilities of being the King of Snowfields, had left him with no time for a drink. It had been a long time since he had held a glass of wine.

It had been over 80 days.

80 days since the decision made to uphold family traditions, the careless neglect that led to the worst possible outcome.

And.

80 days since the search had yielded no results.

[Please, don’t look for me. I’ve lost someone dear to me twice. I don’t want to lose or hurt anyone anymore.]

Leaving behind a note, Remian fled the ducal castle that night, just like Deron Kellyd.

The moment Gelwood brought the note in a hurry, Logan saw his daughter galloping away on horseback through the window, but he did not order a chase.

Remian withered if she couldn’t achieve what she set her mind to.

It might be due to the curse, but he had no intention of scolding her for something she couldn’t control.

Remian, who had started wasting away the moment her steps toward the academy were restrained, was relentless in her pursuits once she became obsessed with something, skipping sleep to delve into it.

The extreme obsession likely stemmed from a lifetime of hiding due to the chieftain’s curse, having to learn to hide from infancy, and living a life shackled in the shadows. Logan didn’t blame her for it.

He couldn’t fathom the pain of having to hide one’s name and face without knowing why, swallowing loneliness alone while others laughed under the sun.

In hindsight, the curse might have already been pushing his daughter to the brink.

That’s why he didn’t hold her back.

Even if he forcibly restrained her, Remian would have wasted away in that place.

Just like before.

And if the massive search revealed the disregard of her plea, Remian would burrow even deeper.

Into an abyss so deep she’d never emerge, one where she’d never be found again.

Hence, he could only follow her quietly.

Remian had spent her life hiding.

His daughter, who had to learn the art of concealment earlier than anyone else, had naturally developed an adeptness at it, making the pursuit difficult.

-Knock, knock.

“Come in.”

Gelwood, bowing his head, entered the office upon Logan’s call.

Logan, looking out at the peaceful night enveloping his land, asked.

“Any progress?”

“They found the horse Lady Remian rode away on.”

“…But not Remian.”

“Yes.”

Despite this, the reason he cautiously pursued Remian was singular.

To correct the loss stated in the note.

If that loss was the decisive reason for her runaway, he intended to let her know it wasn’t necessary.

“And what about Deron?”

“He was spotted in Elthorne Village, but he jumped into the waterfall. His body wasn’t found downstream, so it seems he’s still alive.”

“Capture that insolent brat at all costs. I’ll personally tear his mouth apart.”

“Understood.”

Despite giving him a chance, he had betrayed expectations.

Even though he could justifiably hunt him down and execute him immediately, he couldn’t decide or judge before interrogating him.

Except for the testimonies of the guards who arrived late, there were no clear witnesses or evidence of the crimes committed secretly that night.

Thus, Logan asked again.

“What about the maid?”

“They say her bodily functions are gradually returning. Sir Demir thinks she might wake up in a few days at the earliest.”

“I see….”

[The maid]

The maid who directly experienced the crimes of that night, who miraculously regained her pulse just before being declared dead.

Unfortunately, Remian had already left by then.

If she woke up, her testimony would be more than enough to prove Deron’s crimes and alleviate the forced guilt Remian had to endure.

That’s why Logan Winterfell had provided the best medical supplies in the northern territories and assigned his personal physician to ensure the recovery of Remian’s personal maid, Marien.

“Hmmm….”

Logan sighed again and took another sip of wine.

**

Remian lay there for a long time, unable to believe she was awake.

For a long time, she stared at the sky, unable to believe she had slept soundly for the first time in a while.

For a long time, she lay there, unable to believe the warm skin enveloping her.

For a long time, she lay there, unable to believe the sound of the crackling campfire.

And.

For a long time, she stared at the face before her, unable to believe it.

She had thought the last thing she saw before closing her eyes was the face of the death’s reaper. But upon opening them, she saw Elden Lapellion’s face.

The pitch-black hair, as if painted with death, and the red eyes, as if thirsting for blood, belonged to Elden Lapellion.

“Thank goodness, you’re awake.”

It was confusing.

The sudden appearance of him.

That the first person she saw upon waking was Elden.

That he was relieved to see her awake.

Everything was so confusing, it felt like a dream, an absurd delusion.

Remian, unable to believe the glossy black hair and ruby-like red eyes, stared at him for a long time.

She couldn’t tell if this was an illusion before death or the reality of escaping it.

She was only filled with the haziness of having just woken up from a deep sleep.

She tried to move her body, but it didn’t obey her, like a broken cart.

Yet, she felt something refreshing.

“Let me help you.”

Noticing the slight movement, Elden supported her, helping her sit up against the wall.

“Drink this. It will help you regain your strength.”

Elden offered a metal bowl, but Remian, unable to grasp it, merely stared at it.

So, Elden had to bring the bowl to her lips.

“Please, try to drink it.”

As Elden tilted the cup, Remian began to drink.

Like a baby bird receiving food.

She felt the warm water flow down her throat, filling her empty insides with warmth.

It was a warmth she couldn’t remember feeling.

And because of that warmth, she thought perhaps this moment wasn’t an illusion.

Though it was still hard to determine if it was a dream or reality.

“We were just in time. If we had been any later, it would have been dangerous. For now, we’ve done first aid, but you should see a specialist for a proper diagnosis.”

“……”

As her senses gradually sharpened, the wind blowing and the sunlight shining indicated this wasn’t an illusion. But finding it hard to believe, Remian simply stared at Elden with hollow eyes.

What on earth had happened?

At the brink of death, what were the chances of meeting someone who had left the duchy six months ago in this nameless land?

Someone well-acquainted.

Whether it was fate or misfortune.

It would be an incredibly slim chance, worthy of being called a miracle.

If this reunion wasn’t a fantasy or hallucination, that is.

“If you have anything to say, you can write it here.”

Elden handed her some writing materials.

Her body was so heavy she could hardly move her fingers, but she grabbed the pen.

And she asked.

(Elden… is it really you?)

She asked the name of the black-haired, red-eyed man who seemed relieved at her recovery.

Elden nodded.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“……”

Hearing it directly made her believe, but it still didn’t feel real.

This reunion, both in timing and circumstances, was too unbelievable.

Remian wrote something else and showed the paper.

(How…?)

It was a succinct way to ask for the truth of the situation.

“We were stopping for the night on our way to the Eris Marquisate, and I happened to hear your sobbing. After that, we brought you to our campsite to take care of you.”

“……”

Really.

So, it was a coincidence that they reunited in this vast land.

And she received unexpected help from an unexpected place.

Then why.

Why did they ignore her when she wanted to live but help when she wanted to die?

Why did they make life difficult when she wanted to live but suddenly appear and save her when she wanted to die?

Of course, she had no blame to cast now, nor did she want to deny the changed him, nor did she want to dwell in the past. So, there was only one thing she could say.

(Don’t help me.)

She wasn’t in a position to receive help, and she had come too far to accept it.

Help was too much for someone who only brought harm to those dear to her.

After losing her maid, Ronica, suddenly, she also lost Marien.

Those who stood by her side all met miserable ends.

Realizing too late that the cursed shouldn’t receive help, she said this to Elden.

“…Why don’t you want my help?”

(I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.)

“Are you saying just receiving help could hurt someone?”

Remian nodded weakly at Elden’s question.

Then she wrote.

(If Deron is alive, he’ll come to kill me.)

She wrote about the unresolved danger.

Hoping no one would be around when that danger struck again, she showed the paper to Elden, who then realized.

He could guess the events of the past six months.

The things that vile Deron Kellyd had done.

If he were alone, he would naturally want to help her, but he couldn’t decide without consulting his companions. While Elden hesitated, the campsite grew momentarily bustling with the return of the group, each carrying their own share.

“Oh my! Lady Grand Duchess! You’re awake? That’s such a relief…!”

Ariel clapped her hands and smiled brightly, celebrating Remian’s recovery.

“Wow-! I thought the day seemed unusually nice today, and it turns out Lady Grand Duchess was waking up.”

Old man Rendler’s face beamed with joy as he blessed Remian’s recovery.

“……”

Rachel, with her usual stoic face, nodded and stoked the dying fire to rekindle its warmth.

The same people she had seen at the Engagement War parade six months ago, still mingling and sharing their energy, celebrating her recovery, which baffled Remian, who felt too weak to flee and too stunned to say anything.

Grrr.

As Ariel started cooking soup with the kobold meat she had prepared the day before and the vegetables she had gathered today, a sound came from Remian’s stomach.

It was an embarrassing, disgraceful sound she couldn’t stop.

[T/N: Noooo, Marienn…]