Back at his house, Leonard lay down on a bed that was more firm than soft, but he didn’t try to sleep. Because when he closed his eyes, the image he had seen in the morning came back to life, engraved on the inside of his eyelids. Instead, he recalled his conversation with Anais and replayed it in his mind. He remembered every word he had spoken during that conversation.

‘Actually, I don’t care if I die here.’

He had never contemplated not wanting to die, but today was the first time he had expressed his indifference towards death. Strangely, the words came out naturally, as if he had always harbored that sentiment. Why? Since when did he lose his attachment to this life? Leonard delved into his past to unravel the enigma of his present state.

There were days when he lived solely for tomorrow.

Ever since he made the decision to become an emperor, Leonard’s life had taken a drastic turn. He had to adopt an entirely different lifestyle from before. He had to acquire knowledge and skills he never thought he would need, actively engaging in social and political activities, and gathering support.

No longer did he watch Antoine XIII and Crown Prince Henri misbehave from a distance with pity in his eyes. Instead, he took the risk of confronting his father or voicing his dissent directly to Crown Prince Henri. He meticulously prepared himself for the day he would have to overthrow Henri.

He didn’t want to appear condescending because he had worked hard to prepare himself. But he couldn’t deny that he had solely focused on that goal without considering other aspects of his life.

Leonard Antoine de Charleroi aspired to change Léans by becoming an emperor. The empire had become a mockery, and his father’s tyrannical rule had left Léans sick. If Henri succeeded him, the country would likely spiral into ruin.

He wanted to create a better country to live in, where people weren’t starved due to state exploitation and unfair punishments. He believed that if he could restore Léans to a peaceful and prosperous nation, he could rectify the broken justice system and make a difference in the lives of those who suffered.

He knew he couldn’t eradicate all injustice from the world, but he longed to be an emperor who could at least extend a helping hand to those in pain.

Living in Basbourg and aiding civilians affected by the civil war was an extension of the dream he once had—a dream of living a life like that. That alone made his presence in Dunang worthwhile. However, there was no future.

‘What if the revolutionary army discovers…’

Indeed, it was a life where he never knew when he might be caught and killed by the revolutionary army, who recognized him. As the civil war prolonged, the chances of being discovered increased. Despite hoping for an end to the conflict, he realized he hadn’t thought about which side he wanted to win—the Restoration faction or the Revolutionary Army. He hadn’t even considered it important; all he wanted was to prevent innocent lives from being sacrificed. He had lived with these thoughts without realizing it.

Therefore, his life held no future. He constantly threw himself into situations where getting caught or dying was not surprising, and he had no specific desired outcome for the present circumstances. He hadn’t even contemplated what he would do once everything was over and he survived. It was a stark contrast to the past few years, where he pursued the goal of becoming an emperor with a clear purpose. Now, his life held value, but the future remained unseen.

There were days when he lived solely for tomorrow.

He believed that if he reached that tomorrow, everything would be fine. He failed to notice that the thing he cared about the most had gradually slipped away from the life he had prepared for.

After those days, he had been swept away like a person caught in a raging river, robbed of the possibility he once believed existed overnight. While his current life of helping those in need held value, he hardly saw that value connected to a future.

In other words, he felt lost.

? ? ?

“It seems Ms. Belmartier has feelings for you,” Marcel remarked, pretending to be a detective, as he rested his chin on his thumb and forefinger. Leonard was about to leave. It was the day after Marcel had rushed into someone else’s house early in the morning to check on his well-being. Leonard, sipping his coffee, nearly spat it out in response. Fortunately, he managed to hold it in.

“Why don’t you try a joke that’s actually funny?”

“No, I’m serious.”

Marie was running around the village again, leaving only the two adults—Leonard and Marcel—in Blanc’s house. Even so, Leonard planned to head to Verduis, where the battle was still raging, after finishing his coffee. Marcel’s words centered around the sudden collapse of Anais Belle Martier during a seemingly peaceful break and the possibility of her having feelings for Leonard. It piqued Leonard’s interest, but it also left him dumbfounded.

“Do people tend to get tired of visiting the house and start searching for you all over town too?”

Marcel must have witnessed the expression on the doctor’s face two days ago. If that were the case, Leonard could no longer deny her feelings. Leonard finally placed the mug he was holding back on the table and mustered his words to provide a plausible explanation.

“She’s someone who cares about her neighbors as much as her patients.”

“Besides, didn’t Miss Belmartier end up finding you?”

His mind raced, and he wanted to say that Anais had an unnaturally good memory. But admitting that he knew Anais from before would raise questions as to why he had been hiding it all this time. Marcel had always respected Leonard’s choice not to discuss his past, but he didn’t want to arouse unnecessary curiosity. Nevertheless, he couldn’t let Marcel think that Anais finding him was some kind of fateful encounter.

“Seine is a far cry from the rural village scenery here. Since Ms. Belmartier was born and raised in Seine, she probably thought being there would lift her spirits.”

However, his hasty excuses couldn’t conceal his underlying regret. Marcel smiled slyly and lifted his own mug from the table.

“You didn’t mention that she seemed to like you, so why are you so desperate to explain? If this keeps happening, a curious person like me might suspect there’s something going on between you two.”

Marcel Blanc was truly kind-hearted. Was there really ‘something’ between Leonard and Anais? It was unfortunate that it wasn’t the fresh infatuation Marcel and the other villagers had assumed and anticipated. Yet, it was an undeniable truth that Anais and Leonard were inextricably intertwined.

Leonard let out a deep sigh, and Marcel, perceiving it as some form of distress, patted him on the shoulder and said, “Okay, okay. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” Leonard took it as a gesture to grant him a bit more credibility. Not because he felt no affection for Anais Belmartier.

“Anyway, I think it’s safe to say that she likes you. She mentioned you might be going to Verduis today and said she wanted to come along.”

But what does this mean?

Just as he headed to the battlefield to rescue civilians, Anais also treated injured civilians and Revolutionary Army soldiers in the same vicinity. But she said, ‘I’ll follow you.’ While it would be sufficient for each of them to continue their efforts separately, did it mean they would now act together?

Leonard looked at Marcel with a perplexed expression. Even though he knew he shouldn’t reveal someone else’s personal schedule, Marcel remained unruffled. He must have discreetly gathered information beforehand. Clicking his tongue at the thought of Anais’ face, Leonard couldn’t decide whether to resent Marcel. Was she going to stick around and ensure he didn’t become a target for the Revolutionary Army?

Feeling a sudden dryness in his throat, Leonard grabbed the now-cooled coffee from the table and downed it in one gulp. Taking it as a signal that he was ready to leave, Marcel handed him the coat draped over the chair and gave him a final tap on the shoulder. Unlike their playful banter earlier, this time it carried a slightly determined undertone. Tap. Tap.