The swirling inferno surrounding Lord Arlecia and Clark gradually dissipated, leaving only a quiet stillness as the intense blue flames vanished. Lord Arlecia lay motionless beside Clark.
As soon as the flames faded, Aiden rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside the lord, his hands trembling as he cradled Seth's lifeless form.
Royfield was close behind, his fingers reaching for Seth's wrist, desperate to find any sign of life. Nearby, Claire held her brother in her arms, her heart pounding with both relief and grief. Clark was free from the Black Death; the dark marks that had once marred his skin were gone, his breathing now soft and steady.
Aiden's breaths were heavy and shallow, his pulse quickened by the overwhelming emotions of the scene. The trauma of the moment opened old wounds, yet he forced himself to focus on Lord Arlecia, clinging to the hope that Seth might still alive.
Pushing through his panic, Aiden gently held Seth, urging him to wake. "My lord… please…" His voice broke, and a single tear fell onto Seth's pale face. His lord's body was unresponsive, his skin cold, and no pulse stirred beneath his fingertips.
Royfield knelt beside Aiden, his face ashen as he took Seth's hand. The stillness weighed heavily on him, and his heart clenched with a painful finality. In that moment, he saw not the powerful lord but the young boy he had helped raise the "puppy" he'd watched grow. The loss felt unbearable, as though his purpose had been stripped from him.
"My lord… my lord, please wake up," Aiden whispered, his voice breaking into a plea. He shook Seth's body gently, refusing to believe the reality settling around him.
Claire, her own heart heavy with grief, looked at Aiden's devastated expression. She lowered her gaze to Clark, who lay sleeping peacefully in her lap, oblivious to the sacrifice made for him. Guilt twisted inside her, mingling with sorrow, a bitter reminder of the cost of her desperation.
This is my fault… if only I hadn't…
Her gaze lingered on her brother. If Clark ever learns the truth… he'll be heartbroken. He would never want someone to die for him.
Aiden looked up at Royfield, his voice a whisper filled with hope. "Head Butler… the lord is just sleeping, right? He's not… he's not gone, right?"
Royfield's eyes met Aiden's, but the grief in his expression said what words could not. Unable to answer, he turned his gaze away, the weight of his sorrow choking him.
Aiden's voice trembled as he looked down at Seth's face. "I'll take him back to the castle," he murmured. "He's just sleeping. He'll wake soon… he'll open his eyes and call my name. He has to."
With a resolve fueled by grief, Aiden carefully lifted Seth into his arms, as though his warmth might somehow restore him. As he stood, Royfield moved to help Claire, who still clutched Clark's hand, each step heavy as they made their way back to the castle in silence, their hearts weighed down by the terrible price they'd paid.
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The summer following Seth's death was unlike any other. Nearly every day brought rain to Arlecia, thick clouds casting the land in a gray haze, as though the skies themselves mourned the loss of Lord Arlecia.
A month passed, and rumors of Seth's death spread swiftly through the townspeople. Officials from the estate quickly dismissed these claims as baseless, explaining that Lord Arlecia was merely unwell and receiving treatment. When officials from the kingdom attempted to verify his condition, Claire, now managing the estate in Seth's absence, barred them from entering, asserting that Lord Arlecia wished for privacy.
In Seth's absence, Claire dedicated herself to fulfilling the agreement she had made with him, taking charge of the estate and its affairs. She discovered countless notes and diagrams meticulously laid out in his study, Seth's visions for Arlecia mapped out in vivid red ink. His ambitions to fortify Arlecia into a stronghold seemed clear, yet some of his plans were beyond her understanding. Still, she felt bound to bring his vision to life, honoring his final wishes with each decision.
Her office was a constant mess, papers and maps scattered as she poured herself into the work. Royfield brought meals and reminders to rest, but Claire rarely paused, her focus unwavering.
A heavy, somber atmosphere settled over the castle, and her relationship with Aiden grew distant. He avoided her gaze, barely acknowledging her presence, his silent treatment a reminder of the rift between them. She accepted it, knowing the grief he bore.
Clark had finally awakened, though before he did, Claire had convinced Royfield and Aiden to keep the truth from him until the right moment. When Clark asked why they were in Arlecia and why Claire worked for the estate, she told him she'd been recruited by Baron Arlecia. For now, Clark accepted this, though curiosity about the lord who occupied her thoughts grew with each passing day.
Clark often wandered to the garden, drawn to the greenhouse. Inside, he found a glass coffin surrounded by rose bushes, where a strikingly beautiful figure lay in eternal repose. Seth, Lord Arlecia, rested within, his white hair and pale skin accented by a white suit adorned with a crimson jewel—a sight that captivated Clark on each visit.
Yet, his quiet reflections were often interrupted by Aiden, who regarded him with thinly veiled hostility.
"What are you doing here?" Aiden demanded one day, his tone cold. "I told you not to roam around without permission."
Clark met Aiden's glare, unaffected. "I didn't see any sign forbidding entry. The head butler saw me here before and didn't say a word."
"That's because he thought you'd lost your way," Aiden shot back, irritation evident.
They locked eyes, tension heavy in the air. Finally, Clark stepped past Aiden, his tone calm but firm. "I don't know why you're hostile toward me or my sister. If I've done something to offend you, I'd like to know what. But it's impossible to fix things if you won't say anything."
With that, Clark walked away, leaving Aiden alone, his words echoing in the greenhouse. Deep down, Aiden knew he was being unfair, his resentment simmering in the face of the tragedy that had taken Seth. But the bitterness remained, like a poison he couldn't shake.
I know I'm wrong, he admitted silently, but I can't help feeling this anger.
Once Clark was gone, Aiden moved closer to the coffin, kneeling beside it. He gazed at Seth's peaceful face, each line a painful reminder of his absence. Together, Claire, Royfield, and Aiden had chosen to preserve Seth's body in this sanctuary, the place he had cherished most. They held onto a frail hope that one day, they might find a way to revive him. But for now, the idea remained a distant wish, built on vague, fragmented stories and half-remembered rituals.
"My lord," Aiden whispered, resting his forehead against the glass. "Once you wake up, I want you to accept my oath as your knight. I've never said it properly, and I'm nervous just thinking about your answer. A day without you here… it's unbearable. I don't know how much longer I can endure this emptiness."
A single tear fell onto the glass, and the castle seemed quieter, each corner a stark reminder of the lord's absence.
And yet, Seth's absence affected not only those within the castle but also someone unexpected.
Night after night, Killian, leader of the Raven Guild, found himself returning to the greenhouse. He was among the few who knew the lord's condition, though he'd first learned of it by accident. That fateful evening, he'd come to Seth's chamber only to find it empty. When he heard whispers within the castle, he was stunned to learn that Seth was gone.
"Dead?" he had murmured, unable to believe it. Their pact, sealed by the Scroll of Death, should have warned him, yet he had felt nothing. Strange, the contract mark on his arm had vanished, like it had never existed.
Confusion and frustration gnawed at him. Initially, he had felt satisfaction at the thought of Seth's absence. But as time passed, a strange emptiness grew within him, pulling him back to the glass coffin night after night.
On one such night, Killian stood before the coffin, observing Seth's peaceful form. Aiden had just left, unaware of Killian's watchful presence in the shadows.
What have you done, Seth Arlecia? he wondered, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.
The air grew colder, mist forming with each exhale, lingering momentarily in the stillness. Killian remained, silent and motionless, as he had on so many nights since Seth's death. He couldn't understand what compelled him to return, yet he was unable to stay away.
Why? Why do I keep coming here?
The questions gnawed at him, without answer or comfort.
You're gone. I should be glad. So why… why do I find myself here, night after night?
His fist clenched, and his eyes stayed fixed on Seth.
Are you truly dead, Seth Arlecia?
He pressed his hand to the glass, tracing the outline of Seth's face, frustration and confusion mingling in his gaze.
You're gone. I should be happy. But why… why does my heart ache like this?
A bitter chuckle escaped as he whispered, "Lord Arlecia… open your eyes. Just once. Please."
And so, Killian stood silently, keeping vigil until dawn's first light spilled over the greenhouse, casting a faint glow as he slipped away into the morning mist.