Chapter 61
Mary began to scream at the top of her lungs.
“Why aren’t you saying anything! Why? Why! Why did you torment Miss Angela? Why did you lock a young girl in a closet, starve her, and beat her! Why did you do that? Why? Answer me!”
In the wake of that storm-like voice sweeping through, what remained was silence. Though countless people were gathered here, not a single one easily opened their mouth. It was a space where even the sound of breathing had vanished.
“You came at just the right time.”
The one who finally spoke was Yvonne. She pushed aside the servants blocking her path and approached Mary.
Mary glared at Yvonne with fierce eyes at those inexplicable words. It was an insolent gaze for a mere maid to take. Yet Yvonne uttered no rebuke.
“Do you want to join me in destroying this place?”
Instead, what she offered was a rather absurd suggestion. For some reason, Mary found herself listening intently to words that didn’t answer her question.
“When Angela returns.”
“……”
“She’d be sad if this room still existed, wouldn’t she?”
Round droplets of moisture welled up in Mary’s eyes, which had been fiercely distorted.
“She’s coming back……?”
Mary asked in a trembling voice.
* * *
An eternal snowfield that never melts.
Angela was marking on a world map the places she suspected might be where Grace had set foot, staring at them intently.
There were three in total. Among them, the most suspicious was the perennial snowfield located in the Kingdom of Taran. It was a guess based on Kalian’s story that Alcyon, who had lived there, was discovered in Phaelon’s golden plains.
Angela tapped the perennial snowfield circled in red with the tip of her pen.
At that moment, Kalian approached and embraced Angela from behind. Trapped in Kalian’s arms and leaning back against the sofa, Angela chided him softly.
“Since when did you become so clingy?”
If the knights of the earl’s household saw Kalian being spoken to like this, they’d be horrified. But Kalian, as if it were nothing, rubbed his cheek against Angela’s hair.
Angela accepted Kalian’s behavior with the feeling of dealing with a large puppy. Then, Kalian suddenly kissed Angela’s cheek. After that, he came and sat beside her where she was seated.
“What do you think is there that makes you so focused?”
Angela didn’t answer Kalian’s question. She didn’t know what to say.
To say she was looking for Grace, she’d have to explain her history with Grace. To explain her history with Grace, she’d have to reveal her history with Yvonne. Angela wasn’t sure if that was the right choice.
No, she was actually certain it was better not to say anything. She wanted to protect Yvonne as a good mother for Kalian. Perhaps because it was something Angela had never had herself, she wanted to give it to Kalian all the more.
“Something I saw in a dream. I think it might be here.”
Kalian looked at Angela as she said that. His face was full of questions he wanted to ask. Kalian still didn’t know why Angela had taken the poison.
But Kalian patiently asked nothing. He knew her inner thoughts—that he didn’t want to force anything on Angela, even if it meant holding himself back. He was trying not to reopen her wounds.
He would probably wait until Angela spoke first. He was the type who believed protecting Angela’s heart came first.
Thinking that way, Angela couldn’t help but find Kalian endearing.
So, just as Kalian had done, she kissed his cheek. The moment her lips lightly touched and pulled away, Kalian’s lips met hers in an instant. Kalian, gripping Angela’s slender jaw, kissed her like a man parched with thirst.
Angela was so surprised that for a while, she clenched her fists in the air. Then, realizing she was acting utterly wooden, she wrapped her arms around Kalian’s nape.
The contact softened in that instant, and Kalian toppled Angela onto the sofa. Stroking her disheveled hair, he looked down at her.
Their gazes collided without a single gap. Both knew, without saying, where this collision was heading. Kalian sought Angela’s lips once more. His bowed head was just about to reach her.
Knock, knock!
The knocking sounded unusually loud. But Kalian tried to ignore it. No one in Vildium Castle would open Kalian’s door without permission.
Knock, knock! Knock, knock, knock!
However, it was Angela who couldn’t ignore the persistent knocking. She blocked Kalian’s approach and gestured toward the door with her eyes.
“Ignore it.”
Kalian said, but it didn’t work. Angela even pushed Kalian away, trying to slip out from between his arms.
Kalian, hating the sensation of her pulling away, held Angela tightly and spent a moment like that. It was tantalizingly brief, and the knocking continued from outside.
Knock, knock! Knock! Knock, knock, knock, knock! Knock!
The irregularity made it even more grating on the nerves. Finally, Angela pushed Kalian away.
“They’re waiting.”
Kalian let out a sigh like air escaping a balloon and shouted toward the outside.
“Come in.”
The person who opened the door and entered was Vigo. True to someone who hadn’t given up on knocking, his face looked urgent.
After slightly bowing his head to Angela in greeting, Vigo immediately approached Kalian. He handed over a letter.
Kalian read the letter Vigo delivered in a short time. And his response didn’t take long either.
“Tell the messenger there’s nothing to send back to the lion.”
No letter, and no Angela either. Kalian’s eyes gleamed coldly.
The letter was from Dominic. It said he’d heard the rumor that Angela had come back to life, and if she was alive, to send her back to the Bilton family.
Uncharacteristically for Dominic, who was used to giving orders, the letter was written in a requesting tone. It was pleading enough to call it earnest. Even so, it was something that couldn’t be done.
Dominic was the kind of person who had just watched when he thought Kalian had run off with his dead daughter. Kalian had thought there was no affection, but he hadn’t realized she was unloved to this extent.
Kalian looked at Vigo with resolute eyes. Vigo appeared troubled. Of course, he should follow Kalian’s orders, and in the end, he would move as commanded, but that would mean declaring war.
Kalian against Dominic?
Vigo didn’t even want to imagine it. Actually, it was already miraculous that war hadn’t broken out until now, but that made him hesitate even more.
At some point, Angela had snatched the letter from Kalian’s hand and quickly read the words written in her father’s handwriting.
“Tell him I’ll return as soon as possible.”
Angela said to Vigo. However, the steadfast knight was only waiting for his superior’s command. Angela urged him by calling Kalian’s name.
“Vigo, a moment.”
Kalian gestured toward the door with his eyes, and Vigo, with a respectful bow, left the room. The moment the door closed, Kalian turned to Angela and spoke.
“I don’t want to send you back to the Bilton estate.”
His voice was unusually sharp. But Angela didn’t back down.
“I heard you didn’t even respond to the Emperor’s summons. Do you really want to start a war?”
“If that’s what it takes, then so be it.”
It was an uncharacteristic response from Kalian, who always believed that if there was a way to avoid bloodshed, that was unquestionably the right choice.
“Don’t say foolish things.”
Angela’s tone was cold, but Kalian showed no sign of relenting. He faced her directly, his gaze unwavering, not faltering for a moment. They stared at each other like that until Angela spoke first.
“Prepare for my return.”
At her unchanged answer, Kalian stood from his seat, raking a hand through his hair. It was a nervous gesture. Perhaps wanting to hide it from Angela, he kept his back turned to her.
“Kalian.”
Angela called his name in a stern voice, one that instantly transported them back to their childhood.
But Kalian wasn’t swayed. When he finally turned to face Angela, his expression was chillingly blank.
“The one making a fool of me is you, Angela.”
Angela looked up at him, stunned. Kalian stepped closer, bending one knee to lower himself to her level. In that position, he continued speaking.
“Because you won’t tell me anything, I don’t know what happened at the Bilton estate or why you poured poison into your mouth. Still, I waited. I wanted to wait until you were ready to tell me. It didn’t feel like a story I should rush out of you, so I kept waiting, thinking you’d tell me someday.”
Kalian tilted his head slightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed. Angela couldn’t even dare to guess what emotions he was swallowing.
“And yet, you’re saying you’ll go back without telling me anything? Is my anxiety so meaningless to you? What am I to you, Angela?”
He was someone she loved. That was the one thing Angela could answer with certainty.
But her lips wouldn’t move. There were too many stories she needed to tell Kalian but couldn’t. The moment she opened her mouth, one word would become two, then three. She’d end up pouring everything out, whining to Kalian. But that… it would only mean hurting them both.
“Angela.”
As if sensing her hesitation, Kalian called her name. It was a voice that gave her direction, a voice that could pierce through the darkness.
“That’s…”
Angela parted her lips slightly, only to close them again.
“Angela.”
Kalian opened the path for her once more, giving her a foothold to step toward him.
“Angela.”
After hesitating for a long while, Angela finally took a step forward.
“I…”
The solid ground supported her. Until the path ended and she reached Kalian, he tirelessly guided her forward.
At last, Angela fully collapsed into Kalian’s embrace, along with the tears she’d held in her heart for so long.
* * *
At the Bilton estate, Grace’s space had completely vanished. The closet had been torn out, and the remaining furniture was reduced to mere scraps of wood, destined to be used as firewood.
The wallpaper was stripped away, and the walls where murals had been painted were coated in fresh white paint, ready for new designs to be etched.
And finally, Yvonne ordered that the door to this room never be closed again. It was her resolve to ensure that the events that took place when the door was shut, creating a secretive space, would never be repeated.
The servants could only finish their work late into the night. Yvonne took Mary and left first. The remaining servants, dusting off their grime-covered bodies, prepared to return to their quarters.
“But, you know…”
One of the servants spoke up.
“What did she mean by that earlier?”
Though he didn’t specify which words, everyone understood what he meant. It was something they’d all been wondering about throughout the task.
*Why did you torment Miss Angela? Why did you lock a young girl in a closet, starve her, and beat her! Why did you do that?*
What did Mary’s words mean? Could it really be true that the mistress did such things to Miss Angela?
No way. The kind mistress? She adored Miss Angela so much. Wasn’t she the one who grieved the most after the young lady’s passing?
“Mary must have gotten something wrong. She was Miss Angela’s maid, after all.”
One of the maids responded in a bored tone, one of those who despised Angela and was certain Yvonne could never have done such a thing.
“Yeah, there’s no way the mistress would do that.”
Another servant quickly agreed. One by one, they chimed in, “Right, no way,” trying to erase Mary’s voice echoing in their minds.
“…She didn’t get it wrong.”
They were halfway back to their quarters, having consciously pushed Mary out of their thoughts.
It was a tiny voice that stopped the servants in their tracks. A voice so faint it seemed it might crawl away, yet it struck their eardrums with unsettling clarity.
