TRCR 24

“Where’s Zeppelin?”
Rebecca, back through the estate’s crawlspace, brushed off dust and asked Robert.
He stood exactly where they’d agreed, right on time.
Seeing her unblemished face, he sighed in relief.
“Still not back. Please, no more reckless stunts. You shaved years off my life.”
“I had to. He’s too important to trust to anyone else.”
“Get back to your room. Dinner’s soon.”
“Got it.”
Robert scanned the area and led her to a secluded shed. Inside, a maid’s outfit waited.
“Change into this to reenter the estate. If Grace doesn’t spot you, we’re in the clear.”
He rubbed his face.
Rebecca quickly changed, pulling a cap low to hide her hair color.
“What’s with the flowers?”
She eyed the bouquet in Robert’s hand.
He glanced around and said,
“Insurance, just in case. Eat this first.”
He handed her a tray with a teacup. They slipped through the servants’ entrance.
Everyone was busy preparing dinner, paying them no mind.
Just up the stairs…
Someone blocked their path.
“Robert, haven’t seen you in a while. Where were you?”
A chilling voice.
Cold sweat ran down Robert’s back as he saw Grace, dressed in a black dress buttoned to the neck, staring at them.
Rebecca lowered her face quickly.
Grace, who couldn’t tolerate a picture frame being a millimeter off, was Zeppelin’s most trusted servant.
Even in a maid’s outfit, Rebecca knew Grace would recognize her.
Robert, holding up the flowers, said calmly,
“The lady asked for these, so I was in the garden.”
“I see. And this girl…?”
Grace raised an eyebrow, scanning Rebecca.
Robert stepped in front of her.
“She’s taking tea to the lady’s room.”
Grace stared at Rebecca’s hands gripping the tray. Her eyes flickered briefly before cooling again.
“Alright. Don’t keep the lady waiting.”
Relieved, they sighed inwardly and climbed the stairs.
“Wait.”
Grace’s voice stopped them. Rebecca held her breath.
Robert turned.
“What is it?”
“Tell the lady that Lady Fabiola is visiting tomorrow.”
“Yes, understood.”
Fabiola?
Rebecca’s face hardened.
Her hands trembled.
The name alone made her throat tighten.
Horrible memories surged, and she clenched her teeth.
No. I need to speed up the divorce.
* * *
Fabiola Devonshire, Zeppelin’s mother and Rebecca’s mother-in-law.
Zeppelin never liked her much.
Fabiola was a submissive wife.
No matter what her domineering husband, Zakim Devonshire, said, she bowed her head.
She even forced her subservience on Zeppelin.
“Listen to your father to be a good son. Uphold the count’s authority.”
Zeppelin despised her words but maintained basic respect.
Fabiola loved her son fiercely, except for her obsessive deference to his father.
Everything changed when Zeppelin declared he’d marry Rebecca.
Zakim flew into a rage.
“Beauties are everywhere! Marry into some unknown family? There’s a princess in Fortina fit for you. Marry her!”
Fabiola, as always, sided with Zakim, trying to persuade Zeppelin.
That’s when his hatred for her began.
“I’ll have what I want. Anyone who stands in my way won’t be spared, even you or Father.”
Zakim died in a riding accident soon after.
Fabiola instinctively knew her son was responsible.
She wasn’t shocked.
She’d seen Zeppelin’s menacing glares at his father during discipline.
She’d vaguely expected he’d kill him someday.
With nowhere to turn, her obsession and fear shifted to Zeppelin.
To her, Rebecca was a rival to eliminate.
For years after their marriage, Rebecca lived with Fabiola in the estate, in what was now Alicia’s room.
Fabiola tormented her relentlessly.
Fearing Zeppelin’s wrath, she didn’t harm her physically.
But mentally, she hounded her without mercy.
Having endured her husband’s abuse, Fabiola was adept at tormenting others.
Rebecca endured silently, never complaining.
But the estate had no secrets.
Fabiola’s actions reached Zeppelin through a hound.
He banished her to a luxurious mansion in the capital.
It was a gilded exile, but it gave Rebecca breathing room.
At first, Fabiola resisted, but she soon embraced the capital’s glamour, hosting nightly parties, by rumor.
Yet she occasionally visited the estate unannounced.
Never without reason.
It’s about Alicia this time.
Rebecca was trouble enough, but now Alicia was in the picture, making Fabiola anxious.
She likely lost sleep worrying both daughters-in-law might sway Zeppelin to cut her funds.
* * *
“Rebecca, rest today.”
Zeppelin sat on her bed, whispering softly. Despite returning late, he showed no fatigue.
“But I heard your mother’s coming.”
“Servants and their useless chatter. Doesn’t matter. You don’t need to see her.”
“Will you greet her, then?”
“Hardly. I have another wife, remember? Alicia.”
He spoke of Alicia dryly, as if discussing a stranger.
Lifting Rebecca’s hair to his nose, he sighed, intoxicated by her scent.
“I hope you recover soon. Can you move your arm yet?”
“It’s still uncomfortable.”
His hungry gaze made her consider jumping off a roof next time.
“Oh, I got you a gift.”
“A gift?”
“You’ll see.”
He scooped her up and carried her out. Servants, busy with their tasks, gaped at the couple.
They saw Rebecca, bedridden but adorned impeccably from head to toe.
Her limbs dangled limply in his arms.
She looked like a perfect marionette.
Humiliation burned.
She considered resisting.
But like a lioness stalking prey, she chose to stay quiet in his arms.
* * *
At the estate’s entrance, Zeppelin set her in a waiting wheelchair.
“How’s that? Comfy? You love walks. The doctor said lying down too long isn’t good.”
Rebecca eyed the jewel-encrusted wheelchair coldly.
A long chain dangled from it, just long enough for the garden.
Of course.
Zeppelin settled her in.
“Custom-made, one of a kind in the empire. See the gems? Not as beautiful as you, though.”
Rebecca stared at the gold-painted chain trailing beneath.
Zeppelin knelt, meeting her eyes.
His gaze, filled with rapture, traced her face bathed in spring light.
She met his stare.
That look I once loved…
Her heart stirred briefly.
His hands had shattered her heart, yet distant fragments still pierced her.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, he said,
“Ride this, and you’re free. Go anywhere in the estate.”
Free?
That word snapped her out of her fleeting sentiment.
He hadn’t changed. He never would.
Even through hundreds of regressions, their end would be ruin.
Fire sparked in her eyes. The last dregs of emotion scattered like sand in the wind.
Her face cold as winter frost, she said,
“Do I look happy to you?”
Her blue eyes froze like an icy sea.
Zeppelin rubbed his eyes, thinking he’d misseen.
When he looked again, Rebecca was the gentle countess once more.
Just now…
“My lord!”
A servant ran up, panting.
Irritated at the interruption, Zeppelin snapped,
“What?”
Flinching at his scowl, the servant continued,
“Lady Fabiola has arrived.”
“Terrible timing. Rebecca, let’s go inside. No need to deal with her.”
Rebecca paused, then shook her head.
“It’s fine. With such a nice gift, I should do my duty as a wife. I’ll see her.”