TGDHC Chapter 86

Chapter 86 – Realization 

We walked through the marketplace, which now felt almost closed for the night.
The shopkeepers at their stalls were too busy watching the fountain show to notice a hooded man and a small woman passing by.

At first, I made light comments—maybe the sweet smell was from here, maybe that shopkeeper recognized us, that menu board looks pretty—but Loic only gave short nods or quiet replies, his gaze fixed steadily on me.

Normally, he was shy. Even when I tied his cravat, if our eyes met, he’d quickly look away. But tonight, even when I pointed at stalls, his eyes flicked there only briefly before turning back to me. His constant gaze made me embarrassed, and I stopped talking so much.

And then, his hand. Usually, he held mine loosely. But today, his large palm gripped mine tightly, not letting me move at all. The warmth and the pressure made my heartbeat louder, all my senses drawn to it.

The cheers and applause of the crowd felt far away, muffled.

After walking silently for a while, we reached the end of the marketplace, where piles of materials were stored.

“Shall we head back now?” I asked.

Loic paused, staring ahead into the shadowed path, almost as if he wanted to keep walking into the forest. Finally, he muttered, “The marketplace is shorter than I thought.”

He even sounded a little disappointed.

“Then let’s come again,” I said. After all, all this land belonged to him—he could come whenever he wanted.

Just then, from the bushes, we heard a child crying.

Loic immediately drew close to me. The cries grew louder until two children stumbled out, leaves stuck to their clothes. They spotted us and ran over.

“Mommy!” they sobbed.

A boy and girl, siblings. Loic’s eyes widened when he saw the little girl.

“Annette.”

His grip on my hand tightened nervously.

“It’s okay. Step back for a moment,” I said, moving him gently behind me.

I bent down. “Where’s your mother?”

“She… sniff… lost the ball…”

It seemed they’d chased a ball too far.

“Don’t cry. I’ll help you find her,” I soothed, patting them.

Loic stared, stiff and unsure of what to do, silently asking me with his eyes.

“Stay here. I’ll ask a shopkeeper to send for someone from the management office,” I told him.

His eyes shook. “Then I’ll be here alone…?”

“Just for a moment.”

“…Alright.”

The children, now calm, glanced at him curiously.

“Are you scary, mister?” one asked.

Loic stayed silent, then swept his face beneath the hood with one hand. “Go ahead,” he said.

“Even if you’re scared, just wait here, okay?” I told the kids.

I bit my lip to stop a laugh as I took their hands and led them toward the nearest shop.

Loic watched me walk away with the children, then rubbed his neck nervously.

Was it normal to feel so restless just because her hand left his?

No—he had long since stopped being “normal.”

Sighing, he leaned back against a tree. He had never attended festivals, never mingled with his own people. Even when he ordered schools and orphanages to be built, he never stepped inside.

He believed showing himself would be selfish—because whoever came near him might get hurt.

Yet here he was, outside, among people—for one reason only.

Annette.

Everything was because of her.

‘When did it start?’

He closed his eyes. He remembered her small but firm hand tugging his sleeve, walking ahead confidently, as if saying: Just trust me. I’ll protect you.

Her golden hair flying in the breeze, that proud little back—he had been overwhelmed by feelings he could no longer deny.

When she turned back to him, haloed by the marketplace lights, he felt as though the world stopped.

Could it be possible to feel so much for one person?

Every time he was with her, his emotions surged—adoration, guilt, gratitude, restlessness, joy. Watching her care for him filled him with warmth, yet also with selfishness—he wanted to keep that care all to himself.

Her sapphire eyes reflecting him made him ecstatic, but the fear that her gaze might drift elsewhere gnawed at him. Her scent, her warmth, the breeze playing with her hair—he wanted to capture every fleeting detail, but couldn’t. That made him ache.

And yet… he was happy.

Happiness—something he had thought he would never feel.

He held her small hand tighter, terrified that happiness might slip away. If she hadn’t suggested turning back, he might have followed her all the way into the forest without thinking.

Looking at her now, gently comforting the children, he thought: She’s so kind.

But his smile vanished. One day, she would leave. She would no longer be his duchess. Still young and beautiful, she might marry someone else.

Would she tie that man’s cravat too?

Snap! A branch broke under his grip.

No.

His jaw clenched.

Anyone but me is unacceptable. She can’t smile at another man, hold his hand, care for him like this. Never. I’d rather die than see it.

For Annette, there could only ever be him.

Because…

I love her. I love Annette so much it drives me mad.

The truth burned through him.

Until now, he had pretended his feelings were just natural affection for a kind wife. He told himself he was drawn to her only because she eased his suffering. That his wish to stay with her was just selfish comfort.

But it was more. Far more.

Whenever he was with her, his day brightened. Holding her hand filled him with warmth. Since she came, even his nightmares had vanished.

And if he was honest—everyone loved Annette. She was born to be loved. Of course others would admire her. That was normal.

But for him, it was no longer enough.

The moment he heard she had borrowed money rather than depend on him, he couldn’t sleep. The moment he heard she had been in danger, his mind went blank. He had already known, deep inside.

Maybe even earlier—perhaps from the very first time he saw her, standing in his room bathed in moonlight.

Thinking back, he gave a bitter laugh.

He had fooled himself all along, pretending he could let her go. But the truth had always been there.

Now, he couldn’t hide it anymore.

Loic exhaled heavily.

What should he do now?