A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat - Chapter 118 (2) - A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat
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- Chapter 118 (2) - A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat
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“It’s been a while, Your Highness.”
The soft glow of the moonlight.
The cool winter breeze.
And at the center of it all, a beautiful girl with a heart full of turmoil.
It could have been a romantic scene.
If only things hadn’t gone so horribly wrong between us.
A wave of melancholy washed over me.
I pushed it aside and offered her a small smile.
It was a strained, brittle thing.
“If you’re not too busy… would you mind staying with me for a while?”
“…”
Was it my unexpected invitation?
Or perhaps the forced smile on my face?
A flicker of surprise crossed her red eyes.
Margaret hesitated, her gaze darting back and forth, before finally nodding slowly.
As she drew closer…
The moonlight revealed the tear-stained tracks on her face.
Her eyes were red and puffy.
Dark circles ringed her eyes like bruises.
She looked utterly heartbroken.
“You look awful.”
“…I’m fine.”
Her words were unconvincing, to say the least.
But I decided to let it go.
She looked like she was about to burst into tears at any moment.
“Why don’t you sit down for a bit?”
“Okay…”
I decided to wait patiently.
To give her time to collect herself.
But the dam had already broken.
Margaret fought back tears, her fists clenched tightly in her lap.
Her lower lip, bitten raw, trembled slightly.
I couldn’t help myself. I reached out.
My hand moved on its own, gently wiping away the blood that stained her lips.
“Are you alright?”
Her skin was ice-cold beneath my fingertips.
As if all the warmth had been leeched from her body, leaving behind only the bitter chill of a long winter.
And I… I was the only source of heat.
The only one who could melt the frost that clung to her so stubbornly.
“…”
Margaret stared at me, her eyes wide and unblinking.
I said nothing, simply cupped her cheek in my hand, sharing my warmth with her.
We stood there for a moment, lost in the silence of the night.
And then, a whisper, filled with confusion:
“…Why?”
Why?
I honestly didn’t know the answer myself.
I hated her.
I hated her for what she had done to me, for the pain she had caused.
And yet… seeing her like this, so utterly broken… it filled me with a strange, aching sadness.
I resented her for pushing me away, for driving me to the edge of the abyss.
But that didn’t mean I wanted her to suffer.
“I just… wanted you to be happy.”
That was the reason I had pushed her away.
I had pushed everyone away, convinced that my presence would only bring them misery.
I wanted them to be happy.
Their happiness meant more to me than my own loneliness.
And that included Margaret.
I might have hurt her…
But everything I had done, I had done because I didn’t want her to suffer.
“I hate you.”
I hated her for the pain she had caused me, for the gaping hole she had left in my life.
“And yet… I still care about you.”
Despite everything, I still cared about the girl who had shared those precious memories with me.
It was a complicated emotion.
A tangled mess of love and hate, stained with tears and blood.
If I had to put a name to it…
“I’m… I’m so conflicted.”
Yes, “conflicted” was the right word.
I couldn’t forgive her.
But I couldn’t just stand by and watch her wither away either.
She must have known how I felt.
After all, she had seen everything. She knew the truth about my past, about the darkness that lurked within me.
“…”
Margaret’s expression was unreadable.
She stood there, frozen in place, before finally bursting into tears.
The dam had broken, and a torrent of grief poured out of her.
She tried to speak, but her words were lost in a choked sob.
Finally, after several attempts, she managed to force out a single, heart-wrenching sentence:
“…I’m so sorry.”
And then, she completely broke down.