Resetting Lady
Chapter 282 | 06. Dullan Roid

Chapter 282 | 06. Dullan Roid

“You’re getting married? Isn’t that too soon?”

Isella, startled by Carynne’s words, asked again. Carynne nodded as she replied.

“Yes… I know it’s early, but my condition isn’t exactly great.”

“Then when?”

“On the day of Prince Lewis’s coronation, three days from now.”

“…Oh my— Excuse me, what?”

Isella’s jaw dropped.

“Are you insane… No, have you lost… No, are you in your right mind? On His Highness’s coronation day?”

Though she tried to soften her words, the message didn’t change. Carynne explained with a smile.

“Yes. I don’t want to attract attention. I want it to be as quiet as possible, but if it’s a wedding, won’t all my relatives, Raymond, and our acquaintances come?”

“Of course, it’s a wedding.”

“That’s why I made a special request to Prince Lewis. I asked him to let us hold a quiet ceremony with just the two of us in a chapel.”

“Why don’t you want to draw attention? It’s not like you’re showing yet. Ah, I’m sorry.”

Carynne laughed at Isella’s blunt comment. Though Isella looked embarrassed, it was too late to take back her words. Carynne looked down at her barely visible belly and murmured.

“The truth is, while I don’t show much, there’s only a few months left.”

“Then at least postpone it to next week, or a few days after the coronation. Even if it can’t be grand, having it on the coronation day is too much. Prince Lewis will surely reward Sir Raymond properly for his achievements this time.”

“Isella, Sir Raymond and I don’t want any honors. We just want to go somewhere quiet and rest.”

“…Carynne…”

Isella spoke seriously.

“Have you read too many scriptures since you were young? Sir Raymond may be tired from his long military service, but you don’t have to follow him to some countryside. You’ve barely lived your life, and now you want to rest? It makes no sense. Sir Raymond is being selfish.”

“Fufu.”

Few people in this world had lived as freely as Carynne. She had enjoyed life in a youthful body for over a century. But since she couldn’t explain this, Carynne simply laughed. If only she could say such things to others. If only they would believe her.

But how could she convey the life she lived—something Raymond only truly understood after experiencing it himself?

“Can’t you delay it for just one day? The coronation day will be exhausting.”

“It’s already decided. Why does it matter, Miss Isella?”

“His Highness invited me to sit in the royal section, so I don’t think I can skip the coronation.”

Isella answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if missing Carynne’s wedding was unthinkable.

“I’ll have to attend, even if I’m late. Do you want anything in particular?”

“…No, I’m fine.”

Carynne’s throat tightened slightly.

Becoming friends with Isella Evans had always seemed impossible. Their personalities didn’t align, nor did their hobbies or tastes. And, of course, there had been Raymond between them.

Yet even incompatible people could become friends with effort—through shared enemies, spending time together. It was possible to form bonds that once seemed unattainable.

But this expression on Isella’s face—this moment—would eventually end in this life.

In the next life, Isella would glare at Carynne with disgust, try to pour tar on her, dress her in rags, and quietly encourage Verdic to whip her.

‘No, I’ll just befriend her again.’

But the present moment would eventually vanish.

Each new beginning would fade the meaning of this one. Repeating the cycle over and over, even the act of befriending Isella would feel tedious and pointless, just as it had in previous lives. Eventually, she’d give up, deeming it tiresome and meaningless.

The thought was unbearable and sorrowful. Carynne felt a lump in her throat, as if someone were stuffing crumpled paper down it.

“…Thank you, Isella. Really… But your feelings alone are enough.”

Carynne barely managed to compose herself and reply.

Any more words, and she felt she might cry.

* * *

Dullan lit a candle and sat alone once again.

In a small room within the grand cathedral. This small space, temporarily assigned to him, felt perfectly suited to someone like him.

“Haa.”

Dullan sighed. Now that the tumultuous events and major crises that had disturbed his mind were over, he could finally hole up in his room, read scriptures, and study herbs.

‘How peaceful this feels.’

It had tormented him when Carynne wasn’t remaining virtuous, meeting other men. He felt as though he might burn away from the fire under his skin.

Despite calling himself a heretic, he had even cursed God. He had raged, asking why he was burdened with unattainable, tormenting desires. Knowing they were vile and base only made the suffering worse.

The moment Crown Prince Gueuze whispered to him, his resolve wavered more than he could ever admit to anyone.

‘Dear Lord in Heaven, how cunning his voice was.’

“If you do as I say, I’ll give Carynne to you. I’ll never seek her out again.”

“Make me a poison to kill the king.”

Crown Prince Gueuze’s voice continued without end. Dullan wanted to block his ears, but he was in no position to do so. Praying for the strength to resist temptation was futile.

“I will grant you the position of archbishop. When the current archbishop passes away, which won’t be long, you will become the archbishop of this nation. It is the highest honor for a priest. It is not a sin—you are merely helping my father. He is too old, and even coughing takes great effort these days. As I am his child, shouldn’t you help me fulfill my filial duty?”

The voice lowered further.

“I will handle it myself, so do not be afraid. You need only prepare the poison.”

The moment Dullan heard that low voice, he knew that refusing Gueuze would result in his immediate execution. It wasn’t death he feared but rather losing the chance to quench his curiosity about how this life would end. After all, he knew it would inevitably end, just as always. Shouldn’t he prepare a coin for the next life?

“Understood.”

Dullan nodded.

He was in no position to refuse, but he had no desire to kill another person, let alone the king. Dullan valued life, obsessed with immortality. Even now, though accustomed to slaughtering sacrificial animals, he found the act distasteful. Watching life slip away and turn into mere flesh was unsettling.

But what could he do?

What kind of poison should he make? From the room Gueuze provided, he could see Carynne’s room clearly. Memories of the grand cathedral surfaced. It would be a lie to say he felt no sinister joy.

Dullan, glancing between the scriptures and Carynne, fell into deep thought. What kind of poison should he create? He felt a sinister unease beyond description as he watched Carynne’s daily life from across the way.

It had become a routine, observing her languidly reclining amidst luxurious items, yawning. If he just handed over a single poison, he wouldn’t have to watch from a distance anymore… He couldn’t stop his mind from recalling various recipes for concoctions.

“Look at her. Absolutely ridiculous.”

If only he hadn’t seen Gueuze sneering and pointing his finger.

Dullan didn’t know what actions he might have taken otherwise.

“Shameless beyond belief.”

Even from afar, it was unmistakable.

Carynne was holding a man’s hand. She shook her head at something he said, her face wet with tears. Even from a distance, her expression was clear.

It was a face Dullan had never seen in all his years of secretly watching her—one of genuine sorrow. Carynne had smiled, sneered, or looked bored, but never had she shown such grief.

“That appears to be Sir Raymond Saytes, one of Lewis’s confidants. Do you know him?”

“…No.”

The moment Dullan saw that face, he understood.

That man was the one Carynne intended to introduce to her father.

“It seems Lewis has quite the scheme in mind. Did he send a confidant to steal her away? But since she hasn’t left, perhaps he’s planning something else.”

Sir Raymond Saytes.

Even from afar, the man’s tall, imposing figure was evident. Dullan knew his name well. The handsome war hero’s name was often on people’s lips.

“You’ve been deceived by that vixen. If you cooperate with me, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to take revenge as her husband.”

Dullan nodded.

But inwardly, he felt different. As the unpleasant thrill beneath his skin subsided, a sense of resignation settled in. Gueuze didn’t understand Dullan, and Dullan didn’t fully understand himself. Yet seeing Carynne with another man, he could only accept it.

Carynne would never look at him with that kind of face.

She didn’t call him to be her husband—she merely sought to keep her lover hidden from Gueuze’s view. Gueuze expected Dullan to be enraged, and Dullan thought he would be too. That filthy woman, that lascivious woman who cared not if she drove him to death.

“Women are all the same.”

To Gueuze’s sneering comment, Dullan responded softly.

“I will make the poison for you, Your Highness.”

And so, Dullan crafted the poison. It would induce a death-like state, leaving the body stiff and the pulse so faint that even a physician would struggle to detect it.

For an old man, the risk was significant, but it was the best compromise Dullan could make. A healthy young man would wake in less than a day, but for someone nearing death, it might prove fatal.

“Excellent. You’ve done well.”

Gueuze tested the poison and smiled in satisfaction.

But Gueuze would fail. The king would die and then rise again.

The turmoil in Dullan’s heart, stirred whenever Carynne passed by, vanished completely. The days of inner conflict, of grappling with lustful temptations and the prince’s enticements, had all been rejected.

For none of that mattered to him. _{free\we\bnov(e)(l).com}

What mattered wasn’t love, desire, or even Carynne’s virtue or sin. It didn’t matter whom she loved or even if she hated him.

What mattered was that it would never end.

* * *

“Reverend Dullan, are you truly not attending the coronation?”

“…No, Archbishop. I… I have urgent matters to attend to.”

I must bestow blessings upon the wedding.

Dullan made the sign of the cross.

***

/subliminalwayfarer