Julius sat with his back pressed against the heavy oak door, sinking slowly down onto the cold floor. Inside the room, he could hear the faint, desperate sound of Anastasia sobbing—a sound that shattered whatever remained of his resolve.
He closed his eyes, resting his head against the wood.
"Anastasia... I'm sorry," Julius whispered, his voice trembling. "I know my words hurt you. But I couldn't keep living like this. The truth is... I loved you all my life. But recently, something inside me just died out."
He took a shuddering breath, staring blankly down the empty corridor.
"Even when you fell sick... even when we couldn't be intimate anymore... I still loved you. I never cared about that. I was the happiest man in the world just to be with you," Julius said, tears escaping his eyes. "When you changed, I tried to tell myself it wasn't your fault. I knew you were hurting, that you were dying, and that I needed to be there for you. I was tired, Anastasia, but I was ready to stay by your side until the very end."
He paused, choking back a sob as the guilt pressed down on his chest like an iron weight.
"But then... you started forcing Rem into my life. And I... I just started to like her. Over time, as we spent more and more days together, I felt something I hadn't felt in so long. Rem didn't insult me. She didn't manipulate me, or belittle me. She was kind. She just listened... and she was there."
Julius pressed his palm against the door frame, his voice dropping to a raw, painful murmur.
"I knew she was married. I knew I was being a piece of trash for trying to take her. I disrespected my honor as a knight... but I wanted to be with her. Before our trip, we talked about us. At first, we planned to divorce our spouses, but Rem was scared. And if I am being honest... I was the reason we didn't do it. I was unsure. I wasn't ready to leave you, and I didn't push her to make a decision."
He swallowed hard, the harsh reality of his cowardice washing over him.
"If I had just divorced you properly... if I had shown Rem she could truly rely on me, maybe everything would be different. I should have been a bigger man. I should have ended it, but I was a coward. Even now, Anastasia... I still have feelings for you. I can't forget all these years we spent together. All the happy moments, the sad moments... I swore to be with you to the end, and I failed you. I failed so terribly. I'm sorry... but I just wanted to be happy, too."
Inside the room, the sobbing had stopped. The silence beyond the wood was absolute, heavy, and unnatural.
"I know nothing I say can fix this," Julius continued, his tears dripping onto his collar. "I did irreparable damage to our lives, to Rem, and to Subaru. When Rem told me she made her choice... I accepted it. I had no right to cause her any more harm. I let her go back to the man she truly loved. I was ready to bury this chapter of my life, but she decided to come clean, and I accept that too. My reputation will be destroyed... and I don't care. I deserve it. I just hope Subaru can forgive her. I've caused him so much pain... I wouldn't even blame him if he wanted me dead. I deserve all the hate in the world."
Julius leaned his head back against the door, closing his eyes in defeat.
"I had no right to scream at you earlier. It was my fault. I should have been stronger. I should have resisted. I know you loved me, Anastasia. And even after all of this, after all the pain... I still love you. That feeling won't ever disappear. That's why I'm so sorry. I know we need to end this marriage, but... I can't bring myself to abandon you. I still care for you. Even if it hurts, I can't leave you behind."
Julius waited, leaning closer to the door, straining his ears.
"Anastasia... please. Just say something. Answer me."
Nothing. No rustling of fabric, no soft breaths, no movement.
"I understand if you don't want to talk to me," Julius begged softly, his heart beginning to race with a cold, sudden dread. "But please... at least tell me if you would be willing to forgive me."
A minute passed in dead, suffocating silence.
The lack of any sound sent a chill straight down Julius's spine. Panic seized his throat. He scrambled up from the floor, grabbing the brass handle and shaking it violently.
"Anastasia?!"
The lock held firm.
Without hesitating, Julius stepped back, drew back his boot, and slammed his heavy heel directly into the frame. The wood splintered with a deafening crack. He kicked it a second time, shattering the lock, and threw the door wide open.
"Anastasia—!"
The room was bathed in the dim evening light filtered through the heavy drapes.
To his left, resting proudly on an easel, was a massive, unsettling painting—a detailed depiction of himself and Rem, capturing every detail of the nightmare Anastasia had tried to orchestrate.
Julius's eyes widened in horror. Slowly, terrified of what he would find, he turned his head to the right.
There, swaying gently in the faint draft from the window, was Anastasia. Her pale, fragile body hung motionless, suspended from the high ceiling beam by a heavy, makeshift rope crafted from her silk bedsheets.
Her eyes were closed, her face serene and quiet at last, forever frozen in the tragedy she had built around them all.
Julius's knees buckled, and he fell to the floor, the silence of the room swallowing his final, broken scream.