Yelo remained by Noah’s side until he turned thirteen. During those years, their relationship developed without him realizing it. Her belongings began moving little by little into his bedroom, and he became accustomed to spending his nights awake, listening to her silly talk.
On a quiet night, a tear appeared on Yelo’s cheek for the first time.
"You are a great noble. It will be easy for you to find other women, without a doubt...?"
"You have not received an official status yet. Are you worried?"
"Honestly... that is how I feel."
"Then tomorrow, I will give you a symbol that indicates your status. Perhaps you will feel some reassurance if you have something that proves what we have been through."
"...Yes, I think that will protect me a little."
"Would you prefer a ring?"
"That would please me... Young Lord."
Noah did not know how long this would continue, and he was not sure whether it was truly love or merely a passing desire. But he saw the ring as a commitment that he would not be able to ignore even if his feelings changed in the future and he came to see Yelo as nothing more than a toy. He might even call his decision foolish then.
Noah was not a fool. He was almost certain that her approach toward him was part of Robert’s plans, but he was ready to bear the consequences of being a fool rather than accept holding back his ambition and desires because of fear again.
The night passed quickly. Yelo was not in her usual place, which surprised Noah. He searched for her until he stopped in front of a room that the servants tried to prevent him from entering.
"Young Lord, it would be better not to enter. The sight inside might..."
Noah did not listen to them and entered the room.
Yelo’s feet were hanging above the floor, while her body hung motionless and the rope was wrapped around her neck.
Only one thought came to Noah: Why?
Was his status a burden on her, or was this part of a plot?
Noah stepped toward the body and placed his hands on her cheek before turning toward the chair and picking up the paper carefully placed on it.
Yelo had left only two lines in clumsy handwriting:
"I am sorry, Mother. Forgive me, Young Lord."
While he stood before her body, he heard one of the servants say:
"It is fortunate that she did not stain the palace of those of the Higher Blood with her blood. At least the main family will not have to punish her relatives as well."
The commoners who could not use magic were known as those of the Lower Blood, while noble mages belonged to the Higher Blood. Once Noah connected the servant’s words to the difference between them, he realized that Yelo’s death was not simply a suicide without a reason.
He left the room and went to Robert. News of her death had spread among the servants, so they moved out of his way, afraid that he would take his anger out on them.
He found Robert waiting for him in the reception room where they usually talked. He approached him and asked coldly:
"Why did you do this!?"
"It was not me."
"What do you mean?"
"They put her under surveillance from the moment she started getting close to you, then made sure she knew what awaited her if your relationship continued."
Robert continued with a cold expression and a calm voice:
"Even if she had not killed herself, she would have met the same fate sooner or later."
The stability of the nobles’ status gave Noah a feeling of safety, but he now saw the price others paid for that stability. Yelo had died because the system that guaranteed his status did not allow a woman of the Lower Blood to remain by his side. Blood was a barrier that commoners could not cross, no matter what they did.
Noah fixed his eyes on Robert and asked:
"Her death was not necessary. Why did things reach this point?"
"Because the main family will not allow an illegitimate child of the Higher Blood to be born."
"In their eyes, there is no safer way than death."
"Is this why you asked me to treat them like dust?"
Robert’s expression changed for the first time.
"Hmm. Do you know how to listen to what I say now?"
His voice became harsher, but his agitation helped Noah regain his calm. During the years in which he learned how to live as a noble, Robert had repeated two pieces of advice to him more than any others: to keep his emotions to himself, and to treat those of the Lower Blood as if they were dust.
Noah had thought all that time that they were merely two rules imposed by the life of nobles, but he now realized that things were complicated.
"Did you suffer from the same thing?"
Robert did not answer him.
"I have always felt that you were dissatisfied with your life as a noble despite pretending otherwise?"
Robert lowered his gaze, then sighed quietly: