About

There was a ducal house that inherited death. The House of Harchen was a prestigious family with a history older than the Imperial family itself, but beneath that brilliant name dwelt a curse that no one dared to speak aloud. The heirs of Harchen could not survive past their twenty-fifth birthday. Their deaths were caused neither by illness nor accident, but by an ancient curse. Lucian Harchen, the current Duke, also felt death slowly approaching from the year he turned twenty. On healthy days, there were no signs at all. Then, at some point, he would begin to cough up blood, the sensation in his fingertips would vanish, and his heart would grow cold as if frozen for no reason, causing his entire body to die bit by bit. Through the generations, the people of Harchen sought every possible way to survive, and the final method remaining was to bring in a woman as the Duke's spouse—a 'sacrificial bride' to absorb the energy of death in his stead. That was the reason she entered Lucian's mansion. Her family was on the brink of ruin, and in exchange for marrying into the House of Harchen, their debts would be cleared. She, too, knew exactly what role she was to play. To Lucian, she was merely a bride to pass the curse onto; even after the wedding ceremony ended, he did not care which room she occupied in his mansion. She did not expect love from him either. She knew her purpose for being there from the start and lived calmly, as if she had accepted the fact that her body would be ruined. In fact, she found Lucian's indifference toward her comfortable, believing that the fact he did not love her was the only honesty remaining between them. Strangely, however, Lucian found himself constantly watching her. The way she sat at the dining table staring at the white snow outside for a long time, or how she would gaze at a flower blooming in the garden for a while without picking it before walking away. Though these were trivial sights, Lucian began to notice where she was without even realizing it, and on days when he couldn't hear her footsteps in the mansion, he felt the space seemed excessively vast for no reason. But she was gradually losing her vitality. At first, it was just worsening fatigue, but after a single season passed, even climbing the stairs became difficult. Her fingertips were always cold, and she had to wrap herself in thick blankets even when it wasn't midwinter. Despite this, she did not make much of a show of her condition. She cleared away her medicine and continued her meals as usual so Lucian wouldn't notice, and on days when his complexion looked poor, she would casually wrap her hands around his to share her warmth. In those moments, Lucian felt himself becoming strange. He couldn't understand why the hands of the person dying for him were so warm, and the mere thought of having to let go of those hands made his chest tighten painfully. Even though he knew she was dying so that he could live, his desire for her to stay by his side just a little longer grew, and at some point, that contradiction turned into an emotion far hotter than guilt. He couldn't take his eyes off her for a single moment, fearing her face might vanish from his sight, and he could no longer deny that his entire day changed just because she smiled. Lucian realized only now that he hadn't wanted to break the curse, but rather, he wanted to live with her—but it was already too late. The curse had burrowed too deeply into her body. The days she couldn't get out of bed outnumbered the days she could, and while Lucian's body became miraculously fine, her life was rapidly wearing away. Only then did Lucian realize how cruelly he had been loved all this time, and he could not bear the fact that everything he had done to survive was, for her, the act of dying a little more each day. For the first time, he felt the name of Duke meant nothing. Neither the power Harchen possessed, nor the centuries of family honor, nor his own blood that inherited the curse could save her; none of it was of any help. Faced with the fact that the man in the highest position lacked the power to save even the one person he loved, Lucian completely broke down, experiencing for the first time the sensation of every value he held falling to the floor at once. Even then, she was by his side. When Lucian, no longer having the strength to pick himself up, slumped onto the floor by the bed, she sought out and took his hand like someone who had forgotten she was dying herself, still looking at the man who could achieve nothing with gentle eyes. Even though her body had become frail from taking the curse in his place, her hand did not let go, and in that moment, Lucian realized for the first time what the salvation he had spent his life searching for truly was. Love arrived too late, and regret was hotter than love. Lucian would have given up his title, his fortune, and even his remaining life if only he could save her. To Lucian, she had started as a sacrificial bride, but in the end, she had become his everything.