If you Don't Love Me, I Will Die

Chapter 22

“How did they sneak in...?”

With my right hand gripping Ania’s hand and my other hand resting on the hilt of my sword, I discreetly scanned our surroundings.

Ania’s face, filled with unease, briefly flashed by, and dark alleyways loomed beyond the reach of the firelight.

A wandering gaze was watching us from somewhere out there.

“Edward...”

“Stay quiet for a moment.”

I couldn’t find the origin of the gaze.

Amidst the fervor of the festival’s eve, people were excitedly gathered around, and the rhythm of musical instruments echoed in the vicinity.

Though sweat was beading on the hand holding the sword’s hilt, I was ready to draw it at any moment.

But the other party didn’t seem to be just an ordinary eavesdropper.

The chilling presence that licked at us like a snake soon dissipated into thin air.

In truth, it wasn’t a particularly formidable presence, not even comparable to Ricktman’s earnest confrontation.

They didn’t seem like someone powerful.

If they were, I would’ve never felt their gaze.

As one grows stronger, they become adept at concealing their presence.

It was clear that the person trailing us had merely been observing us, with no intention of causing a disturbance at the Brontë estate from the start.

“It’s alright now.”

I lightly grabbed Ania’s startled arm and resumed dancing with her.

“They don’t seem particularly formidable.”

“Are they the same people as last time?”

Ania’s arm trembled lightly, perhaps recalling the time she was kidnapped on the train.

“Probably.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Because if you die or get kidnapped, it’ll put me in a difficult situation.

I swallowed the rest of that sentence and matched Ania’s movements.

“You don’t have to worry, My Lady. I’ll handle it.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

Ania’s lips curled up slightly.

***

As the rhythm changed, we stopped dancing near the bonfire, slipping away from its vicinity.

Even after the sun had set, the atmosphere of the festival’s eve energized the entire village.

Since snow was rare in the southern regions, children greeted the sight of it with bright smiles and happily built snowmen with their parents.

It was a delightful scene.

Happy families could be seen around the village, dining and drinking in restaurants.

Couples wrapped in each other’s arms shared drinks at the tavern.

Seeing them reminded me of my family from six months ago, before I was reincarnated into this world.

Mother, father, siblings, friends...

How are they all doing? Are they healthy?

Will there ever come a day when I can return to Earth and visit them again?

“Husband.”

Lost in contemplation, Ania grabbed my arm.

She pointed her finger towards an alley.

There was a short path between narrow alleys, with an uphill road beyond it.

“Could you accompany me for a moment?”

After a brief hesitation, I nodded.

Though I felt uneasy about the secluded location, I was relieved that Ania was taking the initiative.

Since I wasn’t exceptionally skilled in combat, gathering information from the other side might help avoid Johann’s threats.

With that in mind, I followed Ania.

She slowly ascended the snow-covered stairs, and I supported her arm from behind, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

As we climbed, the heat of the festival gradually faded away. The lively voices of people grew distant, replaced by the sight of snow-covered rooftops and gently flickering bonfires in the village.

Marriage among nobles was originally like that.

None of those engagements pleased her.

The men who courted her were nothing like Edward.

They only saw her appearance.

They risked their lives because of her beauty.

So when she showed her true self, they called her a witch.

A witch who seduced men to their deaths.

She didn’t know which tune to dance to.

Ania gradually withdrew herself.

The beautiful appearance she had always been proud of now felt like a curse.

Her heart, torn to pieces, could never be put back together.

And then, by chance, she met Edward again.

***

“We’ve arrived.”

At the top of the stairs was a small hill.

A small tree stood there, along with a small wooden chair.

“This is....”

As we walked, the landscape of the estate came into view.

Every house was lit, and in the distance, the mansion of the Brontë family could be seen.

Ania looked out at the scenery.

The twinkling lights reflected in her sparkling eyes as if the sky’s stars were captured there.

She smiled softly, like the scent of spring flowers, and then looked at me.

“Do you remember this place?”

Ania asked so.

But I don’t remember anything.

Would this be a place filled with memories of Edward and Ania?

But unfortunately, I am not Edward.

There is no place for me to intrude into their memories.

However, I could provide her with the answer she expected.

‘Ah, I remember.’ Saying that would end the discussion.

But such words did not come out.

I couldn’t steal memories that weren’t mine and answer as if they were mine.

‘No...’

That’s what I was about to say.

A sudden memory passed through my mind, an old memory that wasn’t mine.

Edward Radner at ten years old, and Ania Brontë at eight.

They were sitting on this hill.

Looking at the scenery of the village as autumn leaves fell.

“It’s been a long time.”

Unexpectedly, words I couldn’t understand the meaning came out of my mouth.

“Really... It’s been a long time.”

Unconsciously, the corners of my mouth lifted.

Nostalgia came flooding back.

Something warm trickled down my cheeks.