If you Don't Love Me, I Will Die

Chapter 66

The night was deep.

The fifth model manufactured by Edward Corporation was driving across the silent plain, the sound of its motor echoing.

A white moon hung in the sky.

The cool air of May’s spring shook the distant meadow’s tall grass, and the dance of the tall grass swayed silently like a festival of the night.

In that scene, Ania pretended to be asleep, burying herself in the car seat.

The trembling of the car’s engine reverberated through her entire body while the tranquil landscape touched her eyes.

Her heart was pounding.

But Edward didn’t notice; his gaze fixed far beyond the window.

Ania glanced at his profile with half-opened eyes.

She quickly turned her gaze back out the window, calming her pounding heart.

‘So, no matter what you say, I’ll trust Ania.’

Edward’s words echoed in her ears.

Trust.

Receiving someone’s trust is such a trembling and overwhelming thing.

Ania recalled the past.

Had she ever received someone’s trust even once?

Looking back, she hadn’t.

Not even Ricktman, who had always been by her side, trusted her.

He followed her orders, but it was out of loyalty rather than trust.

Because of her position as a Bronte.

She glanced at Edward’s profile again.

Her body trembled with her pounding heart.

‘What is this feeling?’

If it was love, then it was love.

She liked him.

Ania liked Edward so much.

Since her childhood, Edward had always been by her side, even though memories of those times were now blurred.

But what Ania truly liked were those aspects of Edward’s character.

She had never liked him solely based on his appearance.

Of course, if asked whether Edward was handsome, he was somewhat on that side.

He wasn’t a handsome man with refined features, but due to growing up as a knight since childhood, his sturdy physique, eyes that once were bright but now bore signs of decadence as he grew into adulthood, slightly angled jawline, messy hair, dark circles under his eyes, and tightly sealed lips that seemed to contemplate deeply...

All these things that Ania had once thought insignificant now became apparent.

Then, she was seized by an overwhelming impulse.

An impulsive desire surged within her to bury her body against his and to press her lips against his right then and there.

But she didn’t.

No, she couldn’t.

If their lips had touched right then, her heart might have burst.

It felt that intense.

‘Maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow.’

It was just a momentary tremor.

It was probably just because of the alcohol and what she had seen earlier.

Thinking so, Ania slowly closed her eyes.

It would be more comforting to fall asleep.

But sleep eluded her.

Instead, her heart beat even more fiercely, as if warning her not to lie to herself.

***

“What should I do...?”

Contrary to Ania’s expectations, even the next day, after returning to the mansion, she couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Edward’s face.

The alcohol’s effects had worn off by the time she woke up, so there was no excuse now.

Even more so than the hazy moonlight of the night before, her palpitations intensified even further when she saw his face clearly in the sunlight.

So, Ania, hunching her shoulders next to Edward, who was calmly having breakfast, poked at her food with her fork.

Whether the food was going into her mouth or not...

I saw it.

I was sure of it.

It felt like she was telling me to keep quiet.

“Um... before we returned to the mansion yesterday.”

“No. I didn’t see anything.”

I swore then that I trusted Ania and wouldn’t doubt her.

I can promise now that my belief in her will not be shaken.

But a woman’s words cannot always be taken at face value.

The way men speak, straightforwardly without much thought, and the way women talk, often deflecting or turning words around, are like parallel lines that never meet.

The difference in conversational styles has been the culprit for breaking up many lovers and couples.

I know that very well.

Especially with Ania.

She’s a woman with a strong sense of pride.

Although her heart might be fragile, her pride is strong, so she might want to erase the fact that I broke the promise altogether.

So, what should I say?

As I pondered, moving the fork diligently, the meal soon ended.

“Well then, I’ll go upstairs first.”

Ania finished her meal and headed to her room.

Watching her retreating figure as if fleeing, I also got up from my seat.

“I ate well.”

However, as I was about to thank the chef for the meal, Lorendel opened the dining room door.

“My Lord!”

“Why the fuss?”

Lorendel rushed in, which was unusual unless something serious had happened.

But it probably wasn’t a matter of life and death, something I could handle.

“For heaven’s sake, speak.”

Gasping for breath, Lorendel rummaged inside his coat and pulled out something.

“This... I intended to give this to you, My Lord.”

“A letter?”

It was a white envelope. There were no traces of sealing wax, nor was there any stamp or seal, but it had “To Edward Radner” written on it.

“Who’s it from? If you’re giving me a letter, you should at least tell me who sent it.”

“Please, look at the back.”

Lorendel shook his hands as if he were out of breath.

I turned the letter over as she said, and my brow furrowed involuntarily.

“Viola Bronte.”

Bronte.

A surname I was familiar with.

The family where the woman I love was born.

But I had no memory of a Viola Bronte.

Who could this person be?

There couldn’t be another Bronte family in the empire.

I asked in puzzlement, “Who is Viola Bronte?”

“Uh...?”

Lorendel repeated in a dazed voice.

“I asked you. Who is she?”

“Are you sure, My Lord?”

“Speak quickly.”

As the dining room grew quiet, I glanced around and noticed the servants’ curious eyes on me.

“Who is she?”

“... Viola Bronte. She’s Miss Ania’s, uh... her mother.”

“What?”

I looked at the name written on the letter again.

Viola Bronte

It was a name I had never heard before, but for some reason, it felt unsettling.

I had to read it anyway, so I slowly opened the letter and took out its contents.