<Chapter 36>

Viretta pondered why Iola had chosen to share such a deeply painful story from his past. He was explaining why he behaved the way he did, why he trusted others' words even if he didn’t fully believe in their outcomes, and why he extended that trust even to the most questionable claims.

“Distrust is more sorrowful than betrayal. I never want to repeat that mistake. And since our fates are now intertwined, I felt it was important to tell you,” Iola said.

Viretta Medleridge was no longer just his fiancée but also his companion on a perilous journey where their lives depended on each other. Unless they slayed the dragon and cleanly severed their engagement, they would remain entangled in one way or another, so now was the time to share this truth.

Viretta fell silent for a moment, reflecting on his story and stepping closer to understanding his life. It was a sad tale, but Viretta knew how to cope with sadness—with a smile.

“I see. Thank you for sharing. I’m glad to know more about you, Iola. I’ll remember this.”

“You don’t seem to be looking for ways to ‘fix’ me,” Iola observed.

“Hm? Of course not.”

“Is that because you’re planning to leave me, or because you don’t care about me?” he asked, his smiling face revealing that he wasn’t entirely serious.

It was a playful test from the usually earnest Iola. Viretta, ever graceful, replied to his question with ease.

“Not at all. I think it’s wonderful that you trust others.”

After all, it was Iola’s trust that had brought them this far.

Sure, that trust occasionally caused problems, but the benefits far outweighed the drawbacks.

Still, she had often wondered what went on in his mind. Did this intelligent, capable man genuinely believe in her, or was he simply saying he did without much thought?

But now he had made it clear—he truly did believe in her. Not out of naivety or ignorance, but because, as he said, the world held no absolute truths or lies. His past mistakes had been painful enough to shape a conviction to trust others.

“Every time you believe in me, it gives me strength. If such a great strength comes with a small flaw, it’s a price I’m happy to pay.”

He must have been naturally inclined to trust others. Merely deciding to trust wouldn’t allow someone to do so deeply.

What an extraordinary person he was.

He genuinely believed in her.

Not just saying it as lip service but trusting in her will and resolve.

Though she felt sympathy for the painful story he had shared, Viretta couldn’t help but feel overjoyed to have someone like him at her side.

Thankfully, Iola returned her smile, radiating warmth.

“If that’s how you feel, then it’s the truth to me. And it truly makes me happy. Really.”

There was no falsehood in his words. That sincerity brought Viretta a strange sense of joy.

Perhaps… this man was a truly splendid fiancé. Not just a good person, but someone as comforting as sunlight on a cold winter day.

Before she could let herself sink into the cozy warmth of her thoughts and the bed, Viretta quickly snapped herself out of it.

Straightening up, she opened her wide eyes.

“So, why were you exiled? Does it have something to do with the death of Seo’s heir?”

“It’s because I demanded that the Seo family give Minel a proper funeral.”

“That’s the bare minimum they should’ve done! Were they some kind of dysfunctional family?”

Viretta criticized the Seo family without hesitation, and Iola responded just as calmly.

“Something like that. In Fillian terms, the Seo family combines the roles of a chancellor and grand duke, inheriting those titles over generations. When the sole heir to such a high-ranking noble house dies in a foreign country at the hands of a criminal, it’s no small matter.”

“Ah, I see. Losing an heir would mess up the line of succession. Nobles hate those kinds of complications.”

“Precisely. They didn’t want me stirring things up, so they ensured I couldn’t return to Saha.”

In other words, Iola was not only grieving the loss of his friend but was also caught in the fallout of succession politics, which prevented him from returning home.

Outraged by the injustice, Viretta furrowed her brows and wore a fiery expression.

“That’s absurd! You should have filed an official complaint or staged a protest. This is just aristocratic bullying!”

“You’re spot on. That’s why I ask that you don’t share this story widely. It would be troublesome if Saha’s eyes turned on you as well.”

“Are you saying this casually after just dropping this bombshell?”

Viretta paused, realizing the implications. If she were to speak about this recklessly, it could put both her and Iola in danger.

Wasn’t it careless of him to confide in her like this? When she voiced her concern, Iola tilted his head slightly and gave her a warm smile.

“You’re my fiancée. This wasn’t something I said lightly or to just anyone.”

“That makes me happy and grateful. I don’t care if I can never visit Saha.”

Reassured by his trust, Viretta decided the matter of Saha was irrelevant.

Finished with his tale, Iola lay back down on the bed. When he lifted the blanket, Viretta naturally lay beside him, though a noticeable gap remained between them.

Though the thought of sharing a bed made her blush, they were farther apart than when they had slept huddled in a carriage.

“So that’s how you ended up engaged to me?”

“Yes. My father was searching for a match and connected with Lord Medleridge.”

Finally, Viretta understood how Iola had become her fiancé.

Why had a mercenary noble from Saha been matched with her, a Medleridge? Now it made sense.

What she had known was the reverse of the truth.

Monain, unable to bring Iola back to Saha, must have sought a suitable match for him and found an opportunity with Medleridge, who had been searching for mercenaries.

In Saha, Iola might have been a peerless aristocrat with numerous talents and the backing of Najin. But in Fillian, far from Najin’s influence, his value had been diminished enough for the match to seem balanced.

“So, your father offloaded you at a bargain price.”

“You merchants have such colorful expressions.”

“I hate hearing about these things. It’s frustrating. But at least you’ve met someone as perfect as me, turning it into a blessing in disguise.”

Though her phrasing was amusingly off, Iola didn’t correct her.

Noticing the slight chill in Viretta’s voice, he simply nodded quietly. Discussing his failure to meet his father’s expectations was too painful a topic for the late hour.

The sentimental atmosphere brought a faint pout to Viretta’s lips.

While she didn’t want to dwell on negativity, Iola’s life had certainly been harsh.

As he stared at the ceiling, Iola turned his head slightly to meet Viretta’s gaze.

“Yes. Though the circumstances were unfortunate, meeting you has been an unparalleled blessing. Enough to make me forget my regrets about Saha.”

“Oh… my.”

How many women had been moved to tears by such eloquent words?

Viretta steadied herself, resolving not to be swept away by his charming language.

After nonchalantly dropping such heartfelt words, Iola turned back to stare at the ceiling, pulling the blanket tightly over himself as he mumbled.

“I might even fall in love—it’s dangerous.”

The words were neither too soft to hear nor loud enough to dismiss.

But they were impossible to ignore.

Jolted awake, Viretta grabbed the edge of his blanket.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you definitely said something!”

“You must have misheard.”

Feigning innocence, Iola closed his eyes with a playful smirk, pretending to drift off.

Could it be?

Was this always-serious man actually teasing her?

Viretta tried to tug the blanket away, but Iola’s grip was stronger. Without so much as furrowing his brow, he held the blanket firmly, keeping her at bay.

“It started with an ‘L,’ didn’t it?”

“Perhaps I said ‘liar.’”

“Iola!”

“Get some sleep. We have a trial tomorrow.”

“Iola~! You said something! I know you did!”

Her cheeks burning red, Viretta struggled to pull the blanket back and forth, her protests growing louder.

The next morning.

At breakfast, Lanken stared incredulously at Viretta, who was dozing off at the table.

“Why does she look like she didn’t sleep…?”