I quickly deactivated the ability. It takes longer to reverse when not done through direct contact, but in time, he should return to his original age.
…The sound of footsteps. He’s just around the corner.
He’s coming.
The man who once called me a friend.
“…Albert.”
I felt weightless—like a burden had been lifted. Quietly, I called his name.
How many times had I taken advantage of his kindness?
How many times had I thrown hate at him, mistaken my pain for betrayal?
And yet, he never abandoned me. Even now, he continued to stand by me—as a friend, as the royal consort, and as the man who kept me, the Chancellor, from crumbling completely.
Just the thought brought tears back to my eyes.
This man knew everything about me—my origins, my disgrace—and still, he chose to call me a friend.
Upon seeing me, he rushed straight to Marianne’s side. Of course—he too had worried for her, had shared in the pain of watching her fade.
He embraced her gently, and finally spoke.
“…Gilbert. What in the world happened here?”
Ah, how could I even begin to answer?
I tried brushing it off with a joke, but he snapped at me. Naturally.
So I answered—piece by piece.
Where Pryde and Stayle had gone. About Marianne’s illness…
But I couldn’t tell him about Arthur. Or Pryde. Or Stayle. Not even if it cost me my life.
Still, Albert pressed on.
“But surely there was a price to be paid. Either to that ability-user or to whoever introduced you! What did you—?”
“Nothing.”
He froze.
I didn’t blame him.
Even as I said the words aloud, I was remembering it all so clearly.
“She… she just appeared before me…”
Truly, she had. Out of nowhere, at the very edge of my desperation and helplessness.
Looking back now, it felt almost divine—like she had been sent by the heavens.
“She saved Marianne… and she saved me.”
She had brought with her the very thing I had searched for endlessly but could never find: an ability-user who could heal.
“Without asking for anything in return… she left.”
Calling it a ‘price’ would be wrong.
It was a gift.
Even for a sinner like me, in the end… she smiled at me.
Albert shouted in disbelief, calling it nonsense.
He was right. It was unbelievable.
Something so perfectly timed, so impossibly kind—it defied reason.
But it happened.
I met his eyes, unwavering, and told him it was true.
When I recall her face—the one who saved us—I can’t help but see Albert in her.
Just like him, she looked me in the eyes. Straight and unflinching.
“She…”
The moment I tried to speak her name, the dam broke again. Tears streamed uncontrollably.
The more I tried to explain, the more I understood—this miracle was real. It was a miracle.
…It was over.
The pain. The despair. It was truly over.
That realization hit me all at once, and I collapsed to my knees, my strength gone.
So many emotions twisted inside me that even my face twitched from the strain. I buried it in my hands.
“She appeared… she truly appeared before me…”
Why?
Why did she save someone like me?
How could she, even knowing everything I had done?
She knew of my betrayal—and yet…
“She reached out her hand to me… and brought the one thing I could never find…!”
For so many years, I had drowned in suffering.
Every day felt like torture. I often thought dying would be easier.
“She saved Marianne… she saved her…!”
We were saved.
She must have known—maybe through foresight—that helping us would change everything.
But still, why would she go so far?
She could have looked the other way.
She could have laughed in scorn.
I was a criminal, a traitor, nothing but disgrace.
And yet—
“She even… showed mercy… to someone like me…! Even offered me…”
The so-called “price” wasn’t a punishment. It was a gift. A life sentence.
I, who wished only to die and atone—was forbidden to escape.
I was told to live.
To live and serve.
To carry the name of Chancellor with honor, and redeem it through duty, not death.
A heavier punishment than death.
A path of lifelong penance.
She gave me that.
Had she simply condemned me to die, it would have been easier.
Had I simply lived, aimless and hollow, I might have gone mad under the weight of my guilt.
But she gave me… purpose.
When Albert questioned me again, I could barely answer, so overwhelmed by it all.
“…Albert…”
I managed to speak to the man who had stayed beside me through my breakdown.
I just wanted to apologize.
All I could say was, “I’m sorry.” The words caught in my throat.
But Albert spoke gently.
“…That’s enough. I know I failed to support you when you were suffering. I bear that responsibility too.”
No. That wasn’t true.
He had supported me more than anyone.
Had he not been there, I would have lost my position as Chancellor long ago.
He was the one who allowed Marianne to stay at the castle when she fell ill.
He concealed her existence for her protection.
He provided attendants and guards to care for her, at great personal risk.
And I—how did I repay him?
By resenting his daughter.
By accusing Pryde-sama of receiving unfair favor.
How utterly foolish I had been…!
And yet, Albert knelt beside me and held my shoulders tightly.
Just like she had.
Of course—like father like daughter.
The resemblance couldn’t have been clearer.
“You’ve done your duty as Chancellor. Now… try to love yourself a little.”
The gratitude wouldn’t stop.
Even after I betrayed him, dishonored my role, and turned away from everything, he stayed. He never let me fall completely.
He was the only one who shared my fear of losing Marianne—who truly understood my pain.
He was the man who gave life to the one who saved us.
I… am no longer his friend.
I forfeited that right the moment I betrayed him, five years ago.
But—if I am ever allowed to live again as Chancellor, if God sees fit to grant me that chance—
Then please…
Let me be his friend once more.
Let me stand by his side this time.
As his friend.
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