Chapter 85
Kalian’s presence as he entered the Bilton estate was fierce and unyielding. His tightly pressed lips and cold gaze clearly revealed that he had cast aside even the last shred of respect he once held for Duke Bilton.
“Count.”
At the title calling out to him, Kalian’s eyes turned savagely. In the direction of his gaze stood Yvonne.
“It seems the young lady suddenly lost consciousness during the meal.”
“I’ve heard. Where is she?”
Faced with Kalian’s frigid response, Yvonne refrained from any further elaboration. She turned her body as if to say, follow me. Kalian immediately fell in step behind her.
The place she led him to was Dominic’s room. Kalian clenched his fist tightly.
Yvonne knocked on the door. The time spent waiting after the knock felt like an eternity. He couldn’t understand why he had to show courtesy to Dominic even in a situation like this. When the man was so utterly rude and cruel.
“…Come in.”
Dominic’s permission came agonizingly slowly, gnawing at Kalian’s patience. The moment his voice was heard, Kalian pushed past Yvonne and flung open the door.
Finally stepping inside, Kalian saw Angela lying there with her eyes closed, like a delicately crafted doll. Her pallid complexion made it seem as if Dominic had coated her in wax and preserved her like a specimen.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Kalian approached her side. He was just about to throw back the blanket that Dominic had neatly tucked around her and lift Angela into his arms.
A bluish blade edged toward Kalian’s throat.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Then what do you think you’re doing, Your Grace?”
Kalian countered with a hardened expression, his words as fierce as the blade thrust abruptly before him.
A sharp hostility surged between the two men. The tense atmosphere was precarious, like glass on the verge of shattering. It seemed inevitable that one of them would end up hurt.
“Stop it, both of you.”
The one who stepped in to intervene was Yvonne. Lowering her voice out of concern that Angela might wake, she positioned herself between the two to separate them.
“Sheathe your sword. You’ll wake the young lady.”
At the words expressing worry for Angela, Dominic pursed his lips and returned the sword to its place. Kalian, too, silently clenched his fist, swallowing the rage boiling up inside him.
“Why not leave her here just until she wakes? I’m worried about disturbing her…”
Glancing cautiously at the sleeping Angela, Yvonne tried to persuade Kalian.
“That won’t be possible.”
Naturally, Kalian refused firmly. Even if she woke in his arms, Angela would feel secure. But if the sight upon opening her eyes was the Bilton estate—and worse, Duke Bilton’s room—she would undoubtedly tremble with anxiety.
And yet, she would straighten her back and hold her head high, pretending everything was fine. Just thinking of that sight made his chest…
“I’ll take her with me.”
Afraid his anger might erupt into a shout, Kalian gritted his teeth and spoke.
“Her being here won’t help Angela’s stability.”
But Dominic was equally unwilling to let Angela out of his sight. He had finally gotten his child within reach, and he didn’t want to send her anywhere.
“Listen to her. Where do you plan to take a child whose body isn’t even well?”
“And who made her body unwell in the first place?”
“……!”
“If you’ve taken someone who was perfectly fine at home and caused her to collapse, the least you can do is let her return to a comfortable place.”
“You…!”
“If you’re sorry—if you feel even a shred of remorse—you shouldn’t torment her like this.”
“Torment? How is a father wanting to see his daughter torment!”
“Ha… Haha.”
The moment Dominic’s words ended, Kalian laughed in a way that was utterly unlike him. It was a laugh that pierced the air sharply, slicing through it like a blade. Even when facing an enemy he could behead in one stroke, Kalian had never laughed like this.
Yet somehow, Dominic had driven Kalian to laugh like a man unhinged.
“Mmm…”
In the end, Angela stirred in response to the clash between Dominic and Kalian. Her twitching eyelids soon lifted upward.
Her eyes moved slowly, as if confirming where she was. Then, spotting the people looking down at her, Angela unsteadily raised her body.
“…Kalian.”
As she glanced around, her lips moved hesitantly, and the first name she uttered was his. In that instant, the place where Angela belonged was decided.
Her nest now was not this Bilton estate. It had been precariously perched before being pushed off, only for Kalian to pick it up and cherish it in his embrace long ago.
Without hesitation, Kalian lifted Angela into his arms. As she settled into his hold, Angela fell asleep again, as if she had never woken. Kalian gently cradled her limp body.
Dominic wanted to block Kalian’s steps as he turned to leave without a farewell. He wanted to draw his sword again, as before, and threaten him to put down his daughter.
She was clearly his daughter… So why did he have to let her go with empty hands?
Why wasn’t the embrace she flew into his own?
* * *
“Just one more bite?”
At Kalian’s words, Angela forced her mouth open and closed, then shook her head as if it were truly unbearable now. Her stomach had been queasy ever since seeing the meal Dominic had prepared, and it still hadn’t settled even after sleeping for a while and waking up.
Kalian didn’t press further and set the bowl of thin soup aside at a distance.
Then he gave Angela a little water to drink and brought a napkin to wipe her damp lips. Finally, a gentle kiss touched and withdrew.
Angela accepted all of it quietly, but in the end, she couldn’t hold back her curiosity and opened her mouth.
“I feel like I’ve done something wrong, so why isn’t Kalian getting angry? It’s even scarier.”
She was tense, wondering if she was stirring up trouble, but she simply couldn’t not ask. He wasn’t scolding her for going along, nor was he angry for not waiting for him, so she felt like a child whose punishment had been postponed, constantly on edge.
“Would you prefer if I got angry?”
Kalian’s question prompted an immediate shake of her head. Of course not. Still, it was strange all the same.
The Bilton estate was a place where Angela had once nearly died, so it was where Kalian’s sensitivity peaked.
“I was furious beyond measure.”
As expected, he had been angry. Kalian spoke with a clenched jaw, causing Angela to swallow hard.
But the tension was quickly dispelled as Kalian softened his expression, leaning against the bed where Angela sat propped up.
He brushed her cheek with his fingers, tickling her gently, and continued.
“When Angela opened her eyes and called out ‘Kalian,’ it was so beautiful that all my anger melted away.”
If not for that, he might still be at the Bilton estate, locked in a bitter dispute with Dominic, perhaps even crossing swords with Angela caught in the middle.
“Me?”
Angela tilted her head, as if she had no recollection.
It made sense—she had woken to the familiar sight of the Florence estate and asked how she had returned.
The fact that she had instinctively sought him out filled Kalian with even greater joy. In an instant, he showered her lips with kisses.
Angela, eyes squeezed shut, trembled each time her sensitive skin was softly kissed, clutching Kalian’s arm tightly.
She seemed unaware of how the sensation of his firm muscles beneath her touch sparked a heady thrill.
Their lips, perfectly fitted like puzzle pieces, melded together seamlessly, even as they shifted angles.
How many times did they confirm each other’s contours? Suddenly, Kalian’s large hand gently pulled Angela’s ankle, drawing her closer.
Her view shifted to the ceiling, and Kalian loomed over her like the sky itself.
It was a night sky that could swallow Angela whole. And within it, a singular sun that would melt her into blinding whiteness.
The searing heat Kalian exuded surged into Angela’s cold body as if mocking its chill.
She clung desperately to that warmth, as if pleading for it to linger within her forever.
Their entwined connection, an ardent gesture that begged never to be severed, stretched on like an eternal night.
* * *
Today, it was a sobbing face. So vivid that, despite knowing it was a dream, Dominic was drawn toward it. His steps moved of their own accord.
“Why are you crying?”
Dominic spoke to the child curled into a small, trembling ball.
He wasn’t typically a tender man, but the sight of young Angela’s tear-streaked face tugged at him irresistibly. Yet the child said nothing, only wept without pause.
“Why? What’s wrong, little one?”
Dominic drew closer, leaning in to ask again. Only then did the child cautiously glance up and extend her hand. Her knuckles were covered in wounds.
“Who did this…!”
A surge of anger made Dominic raise his voice, and the child’s crying face grew even more anguished. As if regretting showing her hand, she quickly withdrew it, hiding it behind her back.
“No, no. I’m not angry at you.”
Dominic murmured desperately. But the child, now gripped by fear, refused to show her injured hand again. She tucked it away tightly and slowly stopped her tears.
When Dominic awoke from the dream, the child had become an adult, skillfully hiding her wounds behind an impassive face.
Bolting from the bed, Dominic gasped for breath and suddenly began to run. Barefoot, he burst out of the room, moving swiftly. It was a strange, frantic sprint.
Then, in an instant, he halted in the middle of the corridor. He didn’t know where to go.
Ignorance bred despair. Dominic, who had been glancing around like someone searching for something, suddenly staggered as if he might collapse.
“Master!”
A servant, startled by his master’s abrupt wandering, hurried toward him. Dominic looked at the servant with a face that seemed to see a glimmer of hope approaching.
“Where is she?”
Dominic grabbed the servant and demanded abruptly.
“Pardon? Who do you mean, sir?”
The bewildered servant asked, and Dominic clarified sharply.
“Angela. Where is my daughter’s room?”
“Uh, that’s…”
“Tell me where!”
Stunned by the unexpected question, the servant snapped to attention at his master’s fierce demeanor and hurriedly began to move.
“I-I’ll show you the way. Please follow me.”
Stammering, the servant rushed to lead the way. Dominic followed close behind, almost like a pursuer. The sound of his relentless steps echoed fiercely. The servant, as if fleeing from something, practically ran toward Angela’s room.
“Here it is, Master.”
The servant opened Angela’s door and stepped aside, signaling for Dominic to enter. But Dominic fixed the servant with an odd look. After a moment, he finally stepped into the room.
The servant, watching Dominic’s slumped shoulders, understood the meaning of that gaze. It was a silent rebuke for opening the young lady’s door without knocking.
But Dominic realized it before he could voice it. This room had already lost its occupant.
The servant, without any specific orders from Dominic, quietly closed the door from the outside and stood guard.
He wasn’t sure why. It just felt like the right thing to do—a sense of responsibility after witnessing his master’s sudden wandering.
Dominic meticulously examined Angela’s room. Every shelf, every drawer, every window was carefully taken in, as if her presence might linger somewhere.
Especially on the plush bedding, it seemed her very breath might still remain. He approached slowly, running his hand gently over it.
Yet he knew. The pristine, dustless state of the room screamed its owner’s absence.
Despair washed over him. Why hadn’t he come to this room when its owner was still here, breathing? No one had stopped him. A fierce regret gnawed at him.
Then, a single memory surfaced—a long-ago visit to this room.
“Sign it.”
“I’ve brought terms you’ll find tempting, so it’s not a deal you’ll regret.”
It was a memory that left scars.
Had his daughter hidden her wounded hands behind her back even then?
He had given her to Kalian to take her away. Even while refusing to see her as his daughter, he had placed her in the role of a duke’s heiress—also to take her away. Everything he had given Angela was for that purpose. To take it all back, to mock her when she was left with nothing.
He hadn’t realized that what he gave her most was pain. And now, having taken it all back, he hadn’t known he would be the one left so scarred.
If he could, Dominic wanted to fill this room again. He wanted to be able to scold the servant for opening the door without knocking.
Was that truly an impossible wish?
Dominic buried his cheek deep into the cold, lifeless bed.
