The Fated Sword: The Duke's Second Life

Chapter 6

Few minutes later, Maxwell returned to his chambers expecting to find Liora waiting for him.

However, the moment he stepped inside, he realized that something was wrong.

The room was empty. He stopped near the doorway and looked around.

The curtains were still drawn halfway, allowing the morning sunlight to fall across the polished floor. Everything appeared neat and orderly, yet the absence of the woman he had expected to see made the entire chamber feel strangely unfamiliar.

“Liora?”

There was no response.

Maxwell walked farther inside and glanced toward the adjoining room. The bed was neatly arranged, and there was no sign that anyone had been there recently.

A faint uneasiness settled in his chest.

He remembered clearly that Liora had been with him before the festival. In his previous life, he had always assumed that she would remain in his chambers unless he specifically told her to leave.

Yet she was not here.

Maxwell immediately turned toward the door.

“Someone come here!”

A servant who had been waiting outside quickly entered and bowed.

“You called, Your Grace?”

“Where is my wife?”

The servant lowered his head.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. Last night, you told Madam that she was allowed to return to her own residence before nightfall because Consort Shera would warm your bed tonight.”

Maxwell's expression froze.

For a moment, he wondered if he had heard incorrectly.

“What did you say?”

The servant's head lowered even further.

“You said that Madam should leave before evening because Consort Shera would be staying with you.”

Maxwell stared at him.

Something cold slowly spread through his chest.

He remembered nothing of saying those words.

Or perhaps, more accurately, he had remembered the night differently because he had never cared enough to remember Liora's reaction.

His gaze shifted toward the bed.

The servant continued cautiously, unaware of the turmoil behind his master's calm expression.

“Madam hurried back to her residence earlier this morning. Before leaving, she even ordered us to change the bed sheets so that none of her scent would remain. She was afraid Consort Shera would become angry if she noticed it.”

"Angry?"

The room suddenly felt unbearably quiet.

Maxwell's fingers curled at his side.

“She ordered you to change the sheets?”

The servant hesitated before answering.

“Yes, Sir... Consort Shera does not like Madam's scent lingering in your chambers.”

Maxwell's eyes darkened.

A strange pressure formed inside his chest.

He looked at the bed again.

It was nothing more than an ordinary bed, yet at that moment, it seemed to carry memories he had deliberately buried.

Liora leaving this room alone and pretending that she was fine. Knowing that another woman would take her place beside her husband tonight.

And instead of becoming angry, she had worried about whether Shera would be offended by her scent.

Maxwell slowly closed his eyes. A sharp ache spread through his heart.

How many times had this happened? How many times had Liora walked away from this room while he remained behind, completely unaware of what she was feeling?

“How often does this happen?”

The servant remained silent for a moment.

Maxwell opened his eyes.

“I asked you how often this happens. Why can't I remember any of it?”

The servant lowered his head. “It has happened many times, Your Grace.”

Maxwell's breathing became heavier.

“M-many times?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The servant carefully chose his words.

“Consort Shera would sometimes come looking for Madam if she noticed that her scent was still present in your chambers. Whenever that happened, Madam would leave immediately. She never wanted to cause trouble for you or anger Consort Shera.”

Maxwell stood completely still.

The words struck him harder than any accusation could have.

He had never think about what Liora's life had been like before that final moment.

Maxwell's hand pressed against his chest.

There was a strange sensation there, almost as if his heart had suddenly become too heavy.

In his previous life, he had thought Liora was simply a quiet woman who accepted everything without complaint.

Now he understood that perhaps she had never been weak.

Perhaps she had simply loved him enough to endure things that no wife should have been forced to endure.

His gaze fell toward the bed once again. He imagined Liora standing there last night.

Perhaps she had looked at the sheets for a long time before leaving.

Perhaps she had wondered whether her husband would even notice that she was gone.

Perhaps she had forced herself to smile before telling the servants to change everything so that Shera would not become angry.

And Maxwell had known none of it.

His jaw tightened. “Did she say anything?”

The servant hesitated. “She only told us to take good care of you.”

Maxwell's eyes closed again.

That simple sentence hurt more than he expected.

Even after being pushed aside for another woman, Liora had still worried about him.

She had not cursed him, not complained, not demanded an explanation. She had simply left, just as she had done countless times before.

Maxwell suddenly understood why his memories of his previous life had always felt incomplete.

He had remembered the great events, the betrayal, the war.

The destruction of his family and the night Liora died. But he had forgotten the quiet moments in between.

The moments when Liora had slowly learned that her husband would never choose her.

The moments when she had swallowed her pain because she believed that remaining silent would preserve the peace.

And now, standing in the same room where he had once treated her feelings as though they were insignificant, Maxwell felt something inside him break.

“Did she know that I was returning?”

The servant shook his head. “No, Your Grace. Madam did not know when you would return.”

Maxwell looked toward the window.

For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then the servant carefully asked, “Would Your Grace like me to summon Madam back?”

Maxwell turned around.

He looked at the servant for a long time.

The question seemed simple.

Yet the answer carried a weight that Maxwell had never understood in his previous life.

If he summoned Liora back, she would probably return immediately.

Because she was his wife, she had always obeyed him.

Even after everything he had done, she had never stopped caring about him.

But Maxwell did not want her to return because he had summoned her.

He wanted to go to her and see her face. He wanted to know how many tears she had hidden from him.

Most importantly, he wanted her to know that she no longer had to lower her head and quietly endure everything just to remain by his side.

Maxwell straightened his clothes.

“No.”

The servant looked surprised.

Maxwell walked toward the door. “I will go myself.”

The servant quickly stepped aside. "Yes, Sir."

Maxwell slowed his steps when he was almost at the entrance to Liora's residence.

A woman's voice came from inside.

“Liora, I heard that you refused to drink the required herbal medicine.”

Maxwell stopped.

He recognized the voice immediately.

His mother.

He did not enter right away. He stood several steps from the doorway, listening as her voice came again, this time with a sharper edge.

"Poor Liora, do you want to become pregnant with Maxwell's child?”

Maxwell frowned.