Even if the Dawn Abandons You - Chapter 39

Leonard’s plea to wait had been meaningless from the start. She didn’t regret not telling him that she wouldn’t wait back then, nor did she regret not waiting for him, even if she regretted not saying not to do anything for her sake.

“Yeah, I understand now that things turned out that way.”

Leonard said bitterly. When he heard the news that she had taken the stage at the Republican rally, he felt more bitterness than betrayal. Looking back now, he vaguely thought it had always been heading in this direction. He had known why she hadn’t waited for him. Nevertheless, today’s question was only because he wanted to hear an answer from her mouth at least once. And he had heard the answer, so that was now done. However.

“But I still don’t know what kind of world you wanted.”

However, the Leonard after the revolution didn’t seem very appealing to him. Anais probably hadn’t wished for this either. Maybe it was because they happened to be in a place that could hardly look good, but it wasn’t entirely dissatisfying how the Republican government was handling the situation. It wasn’t his petty pride that thought he would have done it better, but a genuine conviction that Anais wouldn’t have wished for a world like this. In the world you wanted, you might have been endlessly ignorant, but it definitely wasn’t like this, right?

And that conviction was accurate. Anais responded with her lips tightly sealed, delivering the strongest answer without words. Leonard seemed to breathe out as if he had expected that, and he lowered his voice that had been infinitely soft and continued speaking. His ashen gaze flickered and slowly turned toward some distant place outside the window.

“You once asked me why I didn’t leave Léans.”

Requests for asylum had come from Kladiev and Plana, and he had a false identity card. Whichever country he went to, he could live a moderately prosperous life, not as abundant as before but with reasonable protection. At least in Basbourg, and rather than begging like a street performer without fear, he knew it was a wiser choice. But Leo had never considered the option of leaving Léans for even a moment.

“I stay because I love Léans, and because it’s my duty to protect it no matter how it changes.”

Perhaps it was because he was born into royalty. No, that might not be the only reason. To him, it was closer to a duty as a lover than as a prince. It might be because he was raised under a father and an older brother who didn’t prioritize the citizens, their lives, or the world they lived in, but he loved Léans. He thought that he should protect what he loved. If it changes, let it change. If it ends, to the very end.

And there was one more reason that he couldn’t leave no matter what.

The cool late autumn wind blew through the open window. Anais, who was very nervous, rubbed her arm involuntarily. Leonard let out a low sigh, picked up the coat he had left on the bed as he entered the room earlier, and draped it over her shoulder. Their faces were close. The gray eyes that had been wandering in the night sky outside the window a while ago returned to the room and collided head-on with Anais’s blue eyes.

“And because I want to confirm it with my own eyes.”

“What… do you mean?”

“The value you sought to gain by turning your back on me.”

If the results she gained from betraying him weren’t valuable enough, then he would truly have been nothing to her. Leonard wanted to confirm it. That he meant something to Anais, even a little. That he mattered, but something else had become more important. Even if the time they had spent together wasn’t a treasure as precious to her as it was to him, it might have been like a small ring inside a jewelry box for her.

In other words, he wanted to feel the sublime value that would make him submit to her with his own eyes and skin. The world her beliefs had created, a world undoubtedly more valuable than Leonard Antoine de Charleroi by undeniable standards.

As he thought that far, once again, a moist breath, heavy with emotion, caught in his throat. For the past few days, or rather, since their first conversation after reuniting that he hadn’t even realized, a thread of anxious certainty had been gnawing at a corner of his heart.

“But why are you…?”

Didn’t you abandon me because your value, your belief in achieving that value, was more important than my oath? If that were the case, then that should be stronger than the garden I had been cultivating for you… Strong enough to keep you bound to it much more than to someone like me. If you haven’t gained it yet, you should strive even more. It must be somewhere, not yet the time, just that you haven’t acquired it yet, you must believe and patiently wait. After all, you came searching for it for seven years, no one else.

He squeezed the hand that was still holding Anais’ coat collar. Grabbing the coat, the warm body temperature and slightly accelerated heartbeat were conveyed intactly under the large hands that trembled on the nape of her neck. Rationality flew away with that heartbeat. Leo opened his mouth as if he were pouring out his emotions. His true question, the one he really wanted to ask, had been one all along.

“Why are you only thinking of dying, without even considering watching over the world you’ve created?”

Even I, who was cast aside from this world you’ve made without a place to go, vowed to protect it. Why do you? Even without the value you haven’t yet found, without leaving any attachment to it, like this.

Leonard thought it would not matter if he lived and died here in Basbourg, but he had never been certain that he would die. Ever since he met Anais, and especially after the misunderstanding was cleared, he had developed attachments. But the reason he didn’t stop helping people was because even if he didn’t do that, his remaining life would become truly worthless. While he still had no tomorrow in this life, that fact remained unchanged, but it didn’t imply a lack of purpose; it didn’t signify death.

However, in Leonard’s eyes, Anais seemed to have already half-convinced herself that she would die. Someone who wouldn’t be surprised if they died tomorrow. But without any particular attachment to that fact, a person who had no lingering regrets in the world. Leonard repeatedly recalled the odd behaviors of the resistance officer who shot Anais during the battle. He remembered the vague disappointment in her eyes when he saw her after the ordeal and returned to Dunang.

Someone is trying to kill you.

But you don’t want to avoid that, do you? Isn’t that right?

And Leonard’s insight pierced Anais like a thorn. Her azure eyes shook uncontrollably, and her breath quickened. Only then did Anais realize that Leonard’s words, in which he had said he believed she would take charge of Marie if something happened, weren’t an evasive tactic but an attempt to remind her of a reason to live.

Realizing this, she became afraid without understanding why. This, this can’t be. I didn’t intend to have a conversation like this with you. Anais pushed away Leonard’s hands that were holding onto her coat collar, using her trembling, cold hands.

“I, I don’t quite understand what you’re saying, Your Highness.”

“I remember the two times that you told me to just go ahead and kill you…!”

“Please leave!”

Since she couldn’t easily remove his hands, Anais finally pushed him away and sobbed while crying out. Leonard, seeing her bring a hand to her mouth, gasping in surprise, suddenly realized his mistake. His rationality came back quickly. He hadn’t meant to push her this far.

Staring at Anais, who was soaked in a sense of defeat, he felt a sense of self-disgust. He had misunderstood her intention. He had feared that she might do something impulsive, but luckily, Anais didn’t seem like someone about to do something else; she only appeared to be catching her breath rapidly. While she had calmed down significantly, a faint trace of tearful quiver remained in her delicate voice that entered his ears.

“… I’m tired. Would you please leave now?”

An explicit dismissal.

The conversation had come to an end.

? ? ?

The next day was a momentous day.

Leonard, who hadn’t managed to sleep at all, was the first one up and about, getting breakfast ready for three people as if he was the first one awake. After a while, he heard the sound of a door opening behind him. From the direction of the sound, it seemed to be the door to the large bedroom, and Leonard let out a sigh of relief unconsciously.

He turned to set the plate down on the table and met Anais’s eyes. Without overcoming the awkwardness that had persisted since the night before, they exchanged a brief glance, not offering any morning greetings, and proceeded to their tasks. Anais had gone downstairs to fetch the newspaper, and Leonard continued with preparing the meal.

Just as the breakfast was almost ready, the door to Marie’s small bedroom opened. Anais and Leonard simultaneously looked towards the door. Marie quickly opened the door and came out, and when their eyes met, she smiled with a seemingly forced brightness.

“Doctor, Mr. Leo. Oh, did you sleep well…?”

Seeing the faint smile on Marie’s lips, Anais blinked her large eyes momentarily, then she smiled brightly and gently stroked the child’s head.

“Hi Marie. It’s a good morning right?”

The smile that shone through the scattered strands of silver hair was radiant like the morning sun. It was much brighter than the friendly smile she usually showed to patients or others. However, despite this, Leonard felt an unknown sense of crisis there. A feeling that the sunlit, smiling Anais might shatter into pieces like the morning sun any moment.

Looking at her as if the conversation they had shared the day before had all been an illusion, Leonard bit his lip with a growing unease, and he could not even rejoice at Marie’s change.