However, this dream showing the end of Valentin, the villain in the original novel from his past life, was no longer frightening to the real Valentin.

‘This isn’t what real hell is like.’

For someone enduring the most terrible and difficult reality, the ending of the original story meant nothing. It felt as numb as watching someone else’s life. This dream no longer had any effect on Valentin.

Moreover, the viewpoint was different this time.

Before, it was a dream of actually experiencing those events as the original Valentin, but this time he was observing his past self like a transparent being, as if he were another person there or a ghost watching.

He didn’t know why the perspective had changed. Perhaps it was because Valentin could now clearly distinguish between his original self and his current self, or maybe it was the will of the god who made him reincarnate like this… Everything was unrealistic and vague as always. Valentin just dispassionately observed his original self in the dream, as if watching someone else’s life, with tired and weary eyes.

“Ah… No! This is all a false accusation! We are innocent!”

“Your Highness! Prince Clifton! Please listen to me!”

“Valentin Wiche. You should be ashamed.”

“If you want to protect your nobility and honor with that foolish head of yours, there’s only one choice, isn’t there?”

The scenes of Valentin struggling, people turning away, and Clifton’s contemptuous words passed by. Now Valentin was watching his original self staring blankly at the bed, unable to wipe away the pale dried tear stains on his haggard face.

A brown rope was tied to the post of the four-poster bed.

And that tough rope finally tightening around the white neck, despite it being his own choice, unable to bear the final pain of life, clawing at it until blood and skin stuck under his nails.

He watched all of this numbly from the side.

Finally, the delicate omega’s body stopped moving. It hung limply under the post.

How much time had passed like that? The sound of the business building burning outside could still be heard, so it didn’t seem like much time had passed, but seeing the dead body stiffen, it also felt like some time had gone by.

Now smoke was rising in the main house where the family lived too, and it seemed this place would soon be on fire as well.

‘Why isn’t this dream ending…?’

As Valentin was blankly observing the hazy smoke in his lucid dream, suddenly an unexpected scene unfolded.

“Va… Valentin…!”

The person who broke through the spreading flames, coughing, was…

‘Meyer Lilford…?’

It was a completely unexpected figure.

He burst into Valentin’s room through the flames.

“Young master! It’s really dangerous now! We must leave immediately!”

“Oh… Oh my God… Valentin. Ah, how could this… I’m too late…! Hey! Quickly cut this rope! Good heavens…. Hurry!”

Count Meyer Lilford, who had come with a servant trying to stop him, grabbed Valentin’s body and shouted in a panic. The servant, seeming to know it was useless to try to stop his young master, quickly took out a folding knife and cut the rope. It seemed he judged it better to follow the stubborn young master’s orders to escape this place that would soon be engulfed in flames.

Meyer, with his face dirty with ash, sobbed as he and the servant carried Valentin’s body out. Behind them, the mansion could be seen burning and collapsing.

Valentin continued to watch from beside them. He saw Meyer grieving while holding the dead body, using his pocket money to hold a modest funeral for Valentin, and burying him in a small church’s cemetery.

Meyer sprinkled flowers on Valentin’s coffin, tears streaming down his face. With a sorrowful expression, he covered the first soil by hand to honor the departed.

“Valentin… May you find peace in heaven.”

He stayed there for a long time, making sure the flat tombstone engraved with Valentin’s name was properly arranged. Only after seeing Meyer continue to grieve in front of that grave was Valentin able to escape from the dream of the original story.

When Valentin woke from the dream, he couldn’t believe it.

‘How could he do that…?’

In the original story, Meyer Lilford was Valentin the villain’s plaything. He was always someone easy to mock and toy with, someone to make himself look better and despise according to his mood.

Yet this person who had been treated that way was ultimately the only one who mourned the death of Valentin the villain at the very end. And he came to find the original Valentin who was unwelcome to everyone, took responsibility for his body, and prayed for his peace in the afterlife.

After having this unexpectedly shocking dream, Valentin broke his seclusion in the mansion and went out. It was the first time he went out to meet someone after losing the baby.

He went to the Lilford estate without notice. He asked the surprised Meyer if they could talk for a moment. Even though he knew the current Meyer was different from the original one, he couldn’t help but do this.

Meyer showed a surprised expression at Valentin’s sudden visit but soon smiled and received him as a guest.

After taking a sip of the tea Meyer served with the butler’s help, Valentin spoke.

“Meyer Lilford.”

Startled by Valentin seriously calling his name, Meyer spilled half the tea from his cup and wiped his pants with a handkerchief. He spoke with a vaguely harmless smile.

“…Speak, Valentin.”

Valentin started with a question that would seem out of the blue from the other’s perspective.

To the question of what he would do if someone he hated asked for help while injured, Meyer answered with a bright smile as if it were a very simple matter.

“That… That’s too obvious an answer, Valentin. We’ve grown up listening to the bishop’s sermons since we were young, haven’t we? I would probably help like the Good Samaritan? Everyone is equal in the face of pain. We should help those who need help.”

It was excessively theoretical, but Valentin knew he would really do that. Because he had seen it directly in his dream. So his words were true.

Hearing those words, Valentin burst into tears. Seeing him suddenly cry, Meyer panicked and paced around before finally gently embracing him. Valentin received comfort in those arms he had been uncomfortable with and avoided.

Contrary to his unintentional sarcasm asking why he didn’t become a priest while considering him pathetic, it was ultimately himself who was saved by his “foolish” part. His own foolish and wicked self from the original story.

Knowing that, he couldn’t help but cry.

In truth, he had wanted revenge.

On himself who had made the baby like that. And on the unknown someone who had pushed him that day. Although he had let go of his daughter in his heart, the hatred and self-loathing hadn’t disappeared. Meyer had unknowingly awakened Valentin, who had been surrounded by such a dull and opaque shell, just staying in place. Like striking with a chisel and hammer, he had helped him break out of the dark shell with a great shock. It seemed like he could faintly see the path ahead now.

As he was leaving the Lilford estate, Valentin asked Meyer one last question in front of the carriage.

“…Can you really forgive someone you hate to death?”

He was asking if you, who seems even more virtuous than the archbishop, could do that. Not a fake like me with my naive principles, but you who seem real, how would you answer?

“…Forgiveness is difficult for everyone. But living trapped only in hatred and desire for revenge would be even harder for me. For the sake of happiness, I think I would forget the hatred and live looking forward.”

His face, smiling purely, was so bright like light that it dazzled the eyes.

Returning to the mansion that day, Valentin made a resolution.

Since he had already buried his pitiful daughter in his heart, he would look ahead as Meyer said.

He would do what he could do.

* * *

“Now you can eat comfortably.”

Reynard muttered as he watched Valentin slowly putting a piece of duck confit in his mouth with a fork at the dinner table. He looked surprised as if he hadn’t expected that thought to come out of his mouth, but soon composed his expression.

Valentin immediately noticed that it was a comment born from the amazement at the fact that, unlike when their daughter was in his womb, he could now eat comfortably without Reynard’s pheromones.

The human body was truly strange. The body that had returned to its original state, no longer pregnant, was no longer dependent on his husband’s pheromones. He could eat and rest comfortably alone, and it no longer had any effect on him to the point where it seemed unbelievable that he had once been treated and comforted by it as if coming back from death.

“…That’s right.”

Valentin answered carefully. He was slowly adapting to his body that had changed as it recovered back to normal.

Talk of their daughter or Valentin’s pregnancy in their daily life, not in front of the grave, had become like a taboo between them. It was a continuation of days being careful not to disturb each other’s nerves, as fragile as thin glass, with any small tap, wondering when and how their daily peace might shatter. It was no different from thin ice pretending to be calm.

Valentin slowly swallowed the food he had been chewing quietly. Then he looked at his husband’s plate on the table. The food hadn’t decreased at all. It was still in the shape the chef had arranged, as if untouched.

“…Are you eating properly?”

Valentin asked softly after taking a sip of wine from a transparent glass. The way he calmly and comfortably swallowed his food was so different from his husband sitting across from him with a deathly pale face. It was like simultaneously illuminating someone in the sun and someone sinking in the shade.

“…I’m eating enough not to die.”

Reynard blurted out, lowering his eyes without being able to meet Valentin’s straight gaze. His attempt to speak lightly as if joking was rather pitiful.

Now it seemed like Reynard, not himself, who had lost hope in life and died.

Valentin sank into thought, observing the situation that had become the opposite of before.

It had always seemed like he was the one living depressed and sinking, but now it was the opposite. It was the face of someone still walking through hell every day, enveloped in hatred and anger stemming from Valentin who had bled and their daughter who was lost forever.

“I’m glad that at least you’re getting better and eating well. If you were still sick and unhealthy too, I’d probably be in prison by now.”

“Prison? Why?”

“I would have killed everyone who put you in that situation.”

Valentin’s heart sank.

Reynard, glaring into space with eyes blazing blue flames, continued speaking while grinding his teeth.

“I finally found the culprit who pushed you, Valentin. Forgive my incompetence for only finding that bastard after three months.”

“Reynard…”

“I received the criminal from the Emperor yesterday. I started interrogating him, but he still won’t reveal his backers. It’s really ridiculous. There’s no way a fallen nobleman like him did such a thing alone, but he’s still keeping his mouth shut. But he’ll confess soon. Now I’m going to ignore human rights and torture…”

“Reynard!”

Valentin shouted. Planning to extract a confession through torture was unbelievable. It seemed like his husband was going mad somewhere. While he fully understood the sentiment, the direction was wrong.

Reynard paused briefly at Valentin’s scream but soon started muttering again.

“I want revenge, Valentin. I will have revenge. I can never forgive those who did that to you and killed my child.”

“…Please…”

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TL NOTE: Please don't skimp on the stars for the translation - it inspires me and gives me the strength to write more. Thank you~!

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