How could he ever dare describe her?
His light. His god.
When he was young, when his family trampled him beneath their feet,
she was the one who reached out to him amid those hellish days.
Richard, you did nothing wrong.
It had begun at that moment.
From then on, she was a god to Richard.
No—she was more than a god.
When she smiled, his blood-soaked world became warm, if only for a moment.
When she took his hand, he felt as though he could endure any ordeal.
...Yes. Daphne Beatus was Richard’s salvation.
"......"
"......"
The scent of lavender drifted gently through the air.
A soft breeze swept past, setting Daphne’s hair aflutter.
The glow of sunset settled delicately along her silhouette.
"......"
Richard said nothing.
He could barely even breathe.
A strange, stabbing ache pricked inside his chest.
It stung as though an old wound, hidden away for years, had finally been exposed to the sunlight.
"...Richard. Things will work out between you and the Crown Prince you love."
"......"
No.
The person he loved was you, standing right before him.
He had pretended to love the man he hated so deeply,
had taken the prince’s side overnight,
all because he loved you.
"...Richard?"
She tilted her head slightly.
Her pale green eyes wavered with concern.
"Are you all right?"
"......"
He was not.
He bit down hard on the inside of his lip.
She spoke with such boundless tenderness that she was almost unbearably lovable.
She had no idea how he felt about her,
but how could he possibly not love someone so kind?
I know.
He knew these were feelings he must never dare harbor.
I know that too.
He knew nothing could ever come of the two of them.
I know all of it, and yet......
Daphne, here and now—
smiling at him with concern amid a field of violet flowers—
was so heartbreakingly lovely that—
he could hardly breathe.
"......"
After a long while, Richard slowly raised his head.
"...Daphne."
"Yes?"
She blinked lightly.
Richard cautiously took a step closer.
Violet lavender brushed against the tips of his shoes.
The breeze gently lifted the hem of his clothes.
"I..."
His lips trembled pitifully.
I love you, Daphne.
The words merely circled inside his throat.
It could not have been otherwise.
...I know how it ends.
An ending repeated dozens of times.
Throughout the countless lives he had relived,
he had confessed his feelings to her in this very place, over and over again.
He had told her he loved her,
that she was the only one for him,
that he begged her to look at him just once.
But the result had always been the same.
I’m sorry, Richard.
Words that had scattered and vanished with the scent of lavender.
He had never once been reflected in the eyes of the woman who smiled as though nothing were wrong.
And what followed was always the same ending.
She loved Cailus,
and Richard died.
Broken, abandoned, erased.
Such was the cruel, relentlessly cruel law of this "story."
Richard Friedrich, the second male lead, could never end up with the heroine.
He had learned that lesson in his very bones.
Dying countless times,
despairing countless times,
reaching for her countless times only to be struck down.
And yet.
Here he stood once again.
...Then why?
Why do I... still want to confess?
To tell you that I love you.
That you are the only one for me.
......
Richard clenched his teeth against his lip.
The metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue.
...Because I think it might be different this time?
No.
That was impossible.
Richard Friedrich, the second male lead, could never end up with the heroine.
Don’t hope. The outcome will be the same.
The "story" was merciless,
and fate was cruel.
No matter how desperately he had struggled, not once had anything changed.
This time will surely be the same.
Besides, the Daphne of this life firmly believed that he loved Cailus.
Nothing will change.
All he would gain was one more scar that not even death could erase.
I know that, but....
It was only a single sentence.
He merely had to swallow it down....
"Richard...?"
Her eyes gazed at him with such concern,
and she was so unbearably lovely.
He could no longer contain the feelings spilling from his heart.
"...I love you."
His lips slowly parted.
"...Daphne."
"......"
"I have loved you... for a long time. For longer than I can say."
His overflowing feelings finally burst through the broken dam.
"......I—"
The heavy thud of his plummeting heart echoed in his ears.
"I love you, Daphne."
He knew she would reject this confession.
As much as he hated it, he had come to understand.
They were fated never to be together.
Even so.
Whenever he saw her, his heart raced wildly.
His breath grew short and his vision narrowed.
Hiding these feelings was more painful than death itself.
...She’ll reject me.
Understanding it did nothing to stop his heart from breaking.
No matter how he struggled, he would never escape
the fate that bound him to this "story."
But.
Even if it saddened him,
even if it tormented him,
even if his heart broke,
I don’t care.
That was simply what it meant to be the second male lead.
He loved,
he broke,
and still, he never gave up.
So—
just this once,
he wanted to give
his feelings to her.
Beneath the light of sunset,
amid the scent of lavender.
To the woman he loved so much he could scarcely breathe.
"......"
Without the slightest tremor, Richard met her eyes.
"I love you, Daphne."
The scent of lavender drifted quietly through the air.
The breeze moved slowly as though carrying the sunset upon it,
and a thin veil of silence settled over them.
"......"
Daphne said nothing.
For a long while, she stood utterly still.
Her pale green eyes stared at Richard without so much as blinking.
Richard stood there, holding his breath.
His heart pounded heavily and erratically.
Thud, thud, thud.
—It was quiet.
Even the sound of the wind had fallen still.
"......Just now,"
Daphne’s lips finally moved.
Her voice was low and strangely dry.
"what did you say...?"
Richard did not answer.
He merely looked at her in silence.
For an instant, her eyelids slowly lowered.
And then—
gradually,
the corners of her lips rose.
"......"
That smile
was not the smile of the Daphne Richard knew.
It held no warmth.
No gentleness.
It—
looked down upon him with immeasurable contempt.
"Honestly, you’re... Ahaha...."
A low laugh escaped Daphne’s lips.
The sunset stained her silhouette the color of blood.
"Ha... Ahahaha!"
Daphne’s shoulders shook lightly.
"Ahahahahaha!"
Sharp, crystalline laughter burst across the lavender field.
An eerie madness echoed through the air.
"Ha... Hahahaha!"
Daphne clutched her stomach as she laughed.
Her brown hair streamed through the sunset.
The scent of lavender surged around them like a whirlwind.
There was something fractured in her laughter.
A faint, grating note.
As though she were wearing laughter as a mask to conceal a shattered emotion.
"This is... so funny...."
She laughed until tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Only after finally catching her breath did Daphne curl her lips upward.
"Richard."
Daphne’s pale green eyes curved into narrow crescents.
Her voice settled low and soft.
"...You love me?"
Daphne let out another snickering laugh.
"Ha... How entertaining."
Mockery mingled with a strange delight in her laughter.
Her expression was utterly impossible to read.
"To think I would ever hear such words... from you."
She spoke as she idly twisted a lavender stalk until it snapped.
Tiny petals scattered into the wind.
"......"
Her pale green eyes slowly lifted.
Her gaze seemed to pierce straight through Richard.
And then—
very slowly,
she drew the corner of her mouth into a sharp smile.
"What an amusing joke, Richard."
Along with the scent of lavender,
Daphne’s laughter deepened.
An ominous shadow fell across her sweet smile.
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