Chapter 72
The wound on his abdomen wasn’t particularly deep overall. Still, some parts were severely torn and required stitching. When the physician suggested using medicine for anesthesia, Kalian waved it off and instructed him to hurry and finish.
‘It might hurt, though.’
The physician showed his concern.
‘Are you insane? How can you stitch raw flesh without anesthesia…!’
Angela raised her voice, calling it absurd.
However, Kalian stitched the raw flesh without so much as a frown. It was the physician and Angela whose faces crumpled instead.
The physician shook his head in disbelief, even after treating it himself, and left. Yet Kalian comforted Angela with an air of complete nonchalance.
“If your face looks that bad, it upsets me. Please shake off that shadow.”
That only made Angela unable to smooth out her crumpled expression. She wondered what it would be like if she could properly control her power.
Being so inept in every direction meant she couldn’t accomplish anything. But rejecting or accepting required knowing the method. For it to pop out randomly like this, at any moment…
“Has there been no contact from the Duke of Dawson’s estate?”
Angela asked abruptly. It was the first place she’d tried contacting after learning of Grace’s survival. But seeing Kalian shake his head every time she asked, it seemed they weren’t cooperative.
It could be because they cared deeply for Grace, or perhaps they didn’t want Grace’s bloodline entering their territory.
Should she just go there forcefully?
Angela was considering changing her approach when she saw Kalian shake his head again. That’s when Kalian suddenly stood up.
“Why…”
She started to ask, thinking he needed something, but Kalian picked up the outer garment he’d removed for treatment. He was preparing to leave.
“You’re staying here tonight.”
Angela quickly snatched the clothes from his hand and said.
“How can you ride a rattling carriage right after stitching raw flesh?”
Kalian made a displeased expression. It was exactly like the one Angela had worn earlier, thinking she was burdening him.
“I’m fine.”
“Even if it makes me feel like I’m in pain when you are?”
For a moment, Kalian gazed at her steadily.
“I don’t like leaving Angela here.”
He whispered it like a sigh, or perhaps a whine.
“Kalian.”
Still insisting no, Angela called his name and patted the bed. Meaning for him to lie back down. Kalian pulled her close and held her in his arms.
Angela’s hand stroked the broad back of Kalian, who was burrowing into her as if he were a massive figure digging in. It was a gentle, merciful touch, like granting food and drink to someone starving with hunger.
After holding Angela like that for a while, Kalian slowly pulled away and moved his lips.
“Happy birthday, Angela.”
As he said it, he lifted her left hand and kissed it. Angela’s gaze followed where Kalian’s lips touched and withdrew. Unbeknownst to her, a ring had been slipped on. It was the pink diamond Kalian had mentioned.
Seeing the sparkling radiance, the stunned Angela stared blankly at it, and Kalian said.
“If you give too much attention to that little one, I’ll get jealous.”
“It’s just so pretty…”
Mumbling like an excuse, Angela looked at Kalian. The moment their eyes met, Kalian tilted his head and asked.
“More than me?”
How could his face, asking such a ridiculous question, shine brighter than the gem on her left hand? Captivated by an enchantment she couldn’t tear her eyes from, Angela shook her head more seriously than ever before.
“No way.”
Her answer was firm.
* * *
Grace prepared once more to welcome Angela into her dream.
The altar was set. She lit candles over the incantations inscribed on the altar and placed three new hearts upon it. They pulsed simultaneously.
Beside her, Lasil’s gaze clung like an urging. Digging into the surroundings and hoping for Angela’s heart to weaken was something for when there was leisure.
Lasil informed her that only three chances remained. Grace said she would use them all at once. If she failed anyway, it would be the end with Lasil, and with her own life. She could tell—the limit was approaching.
Grace hoped that today, at least, Angela would fall into her hands. The decline in her vitality wasn’t new, but her condition had worsened dramatically after performing the spell with two hearts last time. Her creaking body needed the power Angela had stolen.
Grace closed her eyes and lifted the veil of darkness. She entrusted her body to the flow, like boarding a ship. Drifting along the darkness as if pushed, she stopped in the all-too-familiar depths of Angela’s consciousness.
She had once performed a spell with five hearts to eliminate the angelic beings wandering here, nearly vanishing herself in the process.
Angela didn’t know, but this place had always been Grace’s battlefield. Only now could she finally meet Angela without barriers blocking her.
So come to your mother quickly. Become my blood and flesh again, my baby.
* * *
From the moment Angela stood in the midst of the familiar darkness, she waited for Grace’s appearance. She keenly watched where she might emerge next to target her heart.
Then a strong force shoved Angela backward.
“Ah!”
Grace, finally revealing herself, straddled the fallen Angela.
“Become my blood and flesh again, my baby.”
Today, too, she coveted Angela’s heart like a beast. She clawed and tore at Angela’s chest as if butchering it, thrusting her fingertips inside.
“No…!”
“You have to stay still.”
“No! Why me, why should I…!”
Angela barely managed to block it, screaming out in defiance.
As she did, she desperately wished for that flower stem from last time to appear once more and drive away this brazen intruder.
‘I planted the seed, didn’t I? Let it sprout. Let it bloom. Let it bear fruit.’
A parched life. A life spent clutching a barren wasteland in place of a heart, unable to bring forth anything. The punishment she’d thought was for kicking up dust against people who never offered even a drop of water turned out to be something else entirely, beyond her expectations.
The truth was, she didn’t want to live like this. She didn’t want to speak like this. She didn’t want to act like this. She hated herself so much. She had grown into a horrific monster.
That light had come piercing through her innermost thoughts, offering guidance when she was lost. And that flower stem back then was proof that she had passed the trial the light had bestowed. Proof that Angela—who couldn’t even love herself, unloved by anyone—would no longer be that way.
The light, the angel Grace spoke of, had vanished, but it left traces behind. Those traces would protect her.
In the instant she clung to that belief, just as expected, the flower stem sprouted and wrapped around Grace’s arm once more. It shielded her, preventing Grace from attacking. The vividly blooming flower enveloped Angela’s heart as if to guard it.
“With this little thing.”
But Grace was different this time.
“You think this little thing can stop me again?”
Grace, who had retreated around this point last time, didn’t yield an inch. Instead, still entwined by the flower stem, she thrust her fingertips straight into Angela’s heart. Angela’s upper body jerked violently.
“Ugh, ah…!”
Angela couldn’t even scream; she only trembled uncontrollably. She felt something draining away through Grace’s fingertips embedded in her heart. Instinctively, she knew it was something she must never let be taken.
Her very life.
As she thrashed about, Angela pleaded for power, just once. Whether it was the angel that had told her to bloom a flower in her heart, or the devil’s power that had taken root in her body against her will—it didn’t matter.
Deep in her heart, she cried out: Please, don’t let this woman who raised me in her shadow turn me into a part of her.
“I won’t… I won’t let you take anything. You won’t take a single thing from me.”
Grace, gulping down the power surging endlessly like quenching a thirst, turned to look at Angela at her sudden outburst.
The moment their eyes met, Angela thrust her hand toward Grace. Realizing Angela meant to do the exact same thing to her, Grace flinched back in faint terror.
Immediately, consciousness snapped awake.
“Hah, hah.”
Grace opened her eyes before the altar and let out a hollow laugh as she thought of Angela. As expected of her daughter. She’d thought it was just the resemblance in appearance, but to see it and think of mimicking that—devouring a person’s heart, of all things.
“How did it go?”
While Grace was lost in thoughts of Angela, Lasil approached and asked. Seeing her awake and not staggering as usual, his eyes brimmed with eager anticipation.
Grace rose from her seat and strode over with clicking heels, seizing Lasil’s throat in a vise-like grip. Lasil dangled helplessly, choking in her grasp. Gazing at him with delight, Grace dropped him like discarded refuse and muttered.
“What do you think? It turned out like this.”
* * *
When Angela awoke from the dream, she was in Kalian’s arms. He was soothing her. The patting of his hand was as tender as ever.
Normally, Angela would have surrendered to that touch without question, letting it calm the turmoil Grace had stirred in her heart. But today…
“It’s gone. She took it. Half… about half? I can feel it. She took it from here. That woman touched my heart. I felt it, clear as day.”
Even though Kalian must have understood the meaning behind Angela’s rambling words, he seemed focused solely on calming her. The embrace and the steady patting continued without falter.
Angela lifted her head toward him, insisting that wasn’t the point right now, determined to make him understand she’d lost her power.
“Ka…lian?”
Why did Kalian’s face, dimly visible in the darkness, look so utterly devastated? Until she’d fallen asleep, he had been shining radiantly, but now defeat was plain in his features.
Even so, the way he hid his own emotions, wanting to soothe her first, was evident in his tightly pressed lips.
The startled Angela reached up and cupped his cheek. Heat passed from him to her palm. She’d thought he’d feel cold like this, but as she held him, Kalian rubbed his cheek against her hand.
Like a docile beast, he did so before tilting his head slightly and pressing a kiss to her fingertips. Every gesture brimmed with affection.
“You kept thrashing and saying it hurt… There was nothing I could do, and you kept begging me to save you… I hated myself so much for being so powerless…”
Ah, so he saw it all.
She’d thought it was just a dream, but apparently she’d poured out every bit of the agony she’d endured. It had been torment beyond bearing.
Having her power drained from her heart felt like her limbs were being torn apart. It was as if the life force was seeping out from every single strand of her hair.
And yet…
“It was exaggerated because it was a dream. In reality, it wasn’t that bad.”
Watching Kalian’s face, which seemed more pained than hers, such a lie slipped out effortlessly. Kneeling on the bed, Angela leaned in and kissed his damp eyelids.
“So don’t cry.”
Tristan was right about him being a crybaby. Seeing a new side of Kalian was delightful, but not like this. Sadness was one of the emotions she hoped would never settle on his face.
Angela pulled Kalian into her arms fully. It was strange. It was natural for her heart to calm when he comforted her, but now, as she comforted him, an unyielding peace washed over her.
Angela wanted to set aside the things she couldn’t handle with her own strength, just for a moment, and savor some tranquility.
When morning came, she’d have to grapple with Grace, who had devoured half her power. She might face another grueling day battling monsters that could appear from nowhere.
So until then, she prayed to the god who had bestowed this wretched fate upon her: Let me enjoy this respite.
Angela kissed Kalian’s face, every place she could reach with her lips. At the ticklish, moist press and release, Kalian finally regained his smile.
Yes, that’s how you should smile—beautifully.
It was in that moment, as Angela coaxed and soothed him in her heart, that Kalian gripped the nape of her neck and began kissing her deeply.
He stole the breath still lingering in her mouth, only to return it laced with something far sweeter. Angela gulped it down greedily, desperate not to miss even a hint of the breath he offered.
Soon, the bedsheets brushed against her back. But she had no chance to feel their softness. Her mind reeled from the onslaught of Kalian’s kisses.
A shiver raced up her legs. Kalian’s hands yearned for her with scorching intensity. His body heat, already feeling feverish, seemed to climb even higher.
Kalian must have been holding her while feeling nothing of this warmth, his own body cold as a corpse. Still, she wished he’d know. At least Angela’s heart was melting away in the desperate heat of his passion.
“…!”
It was then, mid-thought, that Kalian pulled away abruptly, as if scorning the chill emanating from her. He who couldn’t feel cold—yet his distance left her feeling emptily cool.
Bewildered, Angela looked at him. Kalian was staring at the open front of her garment. Her gaze followed his downward.
“Ah…”
The hollow gasp that escaped her lips was the closest Angela could come to a full scream.
