Joolie's POV:
"No, it can't be!" I repeated over and over, Chantel's firm conviction making me falter. Her eyes, her gestures, and everything about her didn't seem like someone lying. But it was absurd—how could the person I loved turn out to be my parents' murderer, while the one I despised was actually my savior? It was utterly ridiculous.
My heart felt like it was being torn apart. A sharp pain shot through my chest—a familiar agony, the same pain I'd lived with all my life due to my congenital heart condition. Facing such a brutal revelation, my fragile heart couldn't take it.
"No, it can't be! Ricard and Chantel must have conspired together! That's it! Chantel must have been bribed by Ricard to say these things!" I tried to convince myself, clinging desperately to this theory to avoid falling apart completely.
I trusted Thierry. I loved Thierry. There was no way I could believe Chantel's words over the man I'd known for so long. We'd been through too much together—how could I not understand the type of person Thierry was? Accusing a righteous, courageous man like him of such a vile act was beyond imagination. And if I even entertained the idea, it would mean I was just as delusional. My love and trust for Thierry would never allow me to doubt him.
"Yes, it's all a lie! I can't believe Chantel's deceit and accuse Thierry unjustly. They might be insane, but I can't lose my sanity along with them!" I whispered to myself. But despite my words, doubt had already begun to creep in. Chantel's unflinching gaze had shaken me more than I wanted to admit. And she'd mentioned evidence—proof hidden in Ricard's office that could confirm everything she said. It was too much, too sudden, and I didn't know what to do. Should I follow my heart or investigate Chantel's claim? Should I search for the evidence she spoke of, or keep my unwavering faith in the man I loved? If I went into Ricard's office now, it would mean I didn't trust Thierry—it would mean I was a traitor in love.
"No, that's not it! It's not that I don't trust Thierry. I just want to clear his name!"
"Yes, I just want to prove Thierry's innocence!"
That's right. Before I knew it, I found myself standing outside Ricard's office. If I did nothing now, I'd always wonder, always have this lingering doubt in my heart. Maybe this was for the best—for both of us.
I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. To my relief, the room was empty. I had a thousand and one excuses ready if Ricard happened to be there. I could feign anger, put up a fight, or act out against the war—anything to hide my real motive. I was confident Ricard wouldn't suspect me.
Once I confirmed he wasn't around, I rushed to his desk, rifling through every drawer and document. There was nothing on the desk, so I moved to the cabinets. I searched frantically, the desperation mounting with every empty drawer. Just as I was about to give up, in the last drawer, I found it—a letter stained with dried blood.
"To Ricard."
I froze, my hands trembling as I picked it up. The handwriting on the envelope was unmistakably familiar. It was my father's. The scent lingering on the paper was his too. Even the habit of folding one corner after sealing a document—that was his.
"Father…" I whispered, my voice breaking. I missed him so much. Just holding the letter brought back a flood of memories.
There was no doubt in my mind—this letter was real. I was his daughter; I knew him better than anyone. There was no way I could mistake something he left behind. No one could replicate his handwriting, not even Ricard. Beta Jooun was not only my father but also my teacher. I'd know his style anywhere.
"Ricard, I know it's strange and perhaps absurd for me to send you this letter, but I have no other choice. I can't find any other way to ease my heart about my daughter, Joolie. She's too naive, too trusting. How should I put this? Maybe it's just the thoughts of a dying man. Yes, that's right—I won't live much longer. Soon, a coup will erupt, and I'll lose my head.
Ricard, don't think these are the ramblings of an old man. My instincts are never wrong. I'm going to die soon.
Of course, at my age, I have no regrets. I've made countless mistakes in my life as a king, and perhaps this is just my time to pay for them. I'm not writing to beg you to save me, because this letter will only reach you after my death. I don't mind dying, but there's one thing I can't be at peace with.
Ricard, will you promise to take care of Joolie for me? I know you care for her, and you're a righteous man, so I'm sure you'll do well. One more thing—be wary of Thierry.
You know I've served as Beta for many years. I'm not a useless old fool. Please, Ricard, listen to me. You must be wary of Thierry. Behind that facade of a gentleman hides a cunning wolf. He won't hesitate to do whatever it takes to achieve his ambitions. He'll sell his soul to the devil if it means getting the power he craves. I only realized it too late, and now I can't do anything to stop him. But Ricard, you're different. You're smarter, more capable than I ever was. This old man knows—you'll find a way to deal with the demon Thierry.
Ricard, do not—under any circumstances—let Thierry sit on the Lycan throne. Sacrifice whatever it takes, but don't let that happen. If Thierry becomes King, it will be the people who suffer most. He'll exploit them to death.
There's one more thing… I know it's too much to ask, but please, separate Joolie from Thierry. It's the only way to protect her. I know if you do this, you'll become the enemy in her eyes. She'll hate you. But forgive me for this selfish request. No father can stand by and watch his child run headlong into hell. She's my flesh and blood—I can't let her destroy herself. But I trust that one day, Joolie will understand.
Today, I'm writing to you not as a Beta, but as a father and a man.
Ricard, please… forgive my selfishness.
Signed,
Jooun."
Each word seared into my brain. This was my father's writing—there was no mistaking it!
I collapsed to the ground, the contents of the letter spinning in my head. The man I loved was the one who destroyed my family, a demon willing to sell his soul for power, while the man I'd hated all along was actually my savior? This was madness—it was all too sudden, too overwhelming. I didn't know how to process it.
"Father… Father, please… tell me what this means! Have I been trusting the wrong person all along?" I cried out, my heart shattering into pieces. It took almost an hour for me to calm down.
I began piecing together fragments of the past. I'd been born with a heart condition that everyone in the kingdom knew about, but no one could cure it. Except Thierry. He promised me he would heal me. I was so in love with him, and I believed in him completely. He even gave me a special remedy—his family's secret medicine. But after taking it, my health only deteriorated. My heart condition didn't improve; it worsened. Yet, I never doubted him. I thought if it weren't for Thierry's medicine, I would've died long ago. I kept taking it stubbornly until Ricard demanded one of the main ingredients. He gathered it all up, claiming it was needed for the army, refusing to spare even a little for me. I hated him for that, thinking he was selfish. But now… it didn't seem so simple.
I recalled another incident—a grand ball at the palace. Thierry had given me a beautiful red dress. I was thrilled to wear it until Ricard suddenly slashed it with his sword, ruining it completely, forcing me to change. I loathed him for that too. I thought he was trying to sabotage me, envious of the love I had for Thierry. But that very act had saved my life. That night, the Luna's dog went berserk and attacked anything red. If I'd worn that dress… with my weak heart, I wouldn't have survived.
"Everything… Father, please… tell me I haven't been wrong this whole time!" I sobbed, my world crumbling around me.