Chapter 044. The Wicked Witch
Just a moment ago, I saw that woman on the first-floor terrace, where I had fled to avoid people.
Deborah Coleman.
She stood in one spot for a long time, as if deep in thought, before disappearing into the shadowy outdoor garden.
Her figure reminded me of a sly stray cat prowling leisurely through the mansion.
Inhaling his cigar deeply, Raymond followed her movements with his eyes.
Like a predator watching its prey, he didn’t blink once for a long while.
It was only when her figure vanished from his sight that Raymond began to move.
Throwing the half-smoked cigar onto the marble floor, he gripped the railing with one hand and leapt over it in a single motion.
It was an action he would never have done normally.
The great Duke Cheister, jumping over a railing so undignified?
If his mother, the grand duchess Eleanor von Cheister, had seen it, she would undoubtedly have been horrified.
But the excessive intoxication, the prey that had vanished from his sight, ignited that impulse.
And so, Raymond stepped boldly into the dim interior, chasing after his vanished target.
“I definitely saw her heading this way—”
No matter how thoroughly he searched every corner, not a single strand of hair was in sight.
Had he seen a hallucination in his drunken state, or had she already slipped away down another path? All sorts of thoughts crossed his mind when—
“Are you really a cat, or are you actually a human?”
The steps he was about to turn in the opposite direction froze in place.
He recognized it instantly.
That voice—it could belong to no one else, the very voice that had drawn him in as if bewitched from the moment he first heard it.
Raymond approached the source of the sound slowly, concealing his presence.
“You must have it nice. You don’t seem to have any worries or cares…”
As the voice grew closer, her figure finally emerged faintly from the darkness.
She was crouching on the ground, stroking something.
Without realizing it, Raymond took another step forward.
“Today was a really tough day for me… Would you listen for a bit—”
Rustle—
The woman, who had been muttering endlessly to someone unknown, turned toward the sound of the intruder, startled.
With the moonlight at her back, he couldn’t be certain of her expression, but he could guess.
Those golden sunset-like eyes were surely trembling with unease at this moment.
In that instant, Raymond’s eyes narrowed subtly in the darkness.
* * *
At first, he truly hadn’t thought of anything else.
With no place to go but here, he had only been preoccupied with the fear of being cast out, too consumed to afford the luxury of other thoughts.
But as it happened again and again, unease gave way to curiosity.
“Why?”
It was something anyone would have wondered about.
So, after dozens of hesitations, he mustered the courage to ask, but the response that came after a long pause was utterly strange.
“Why, indeed.”
“…”
“Why is it that I can’t bring myself to fire you every time?”
The murmured words, as if he himself didn’t know the reason, should have sounded absurd, but strangely, from that moment, his heart began to pound inexplicably.
“No… It can’t be…”
He knew it was nonsense, absolutely insane—
Yet, a single assumption hidden in those ambiguous words began to rise like smoke in his mind.
But his thoughts were cut off somewhere around there.
Before he could shake his head, telling himself it couldn’t be, that he was being ridiculous, the duke’s words continued.
“Do you, perhaps, know the reason?”
This time, it was a question instead of an answer.
Though it was too dark to see clearly, his gaze dropped hastily in a panic.
What if his thoughts from a moment ago had been discovered? His heart began to leap with unease.
Deborah opened her mouth as calmly as she could.
“No… I don’t really… know.”
Whether her barely managed response pleased him or, conversely, struck him as absurd, a light chuckle came from him moments later.
“Smarter than you look.”
“…”
“If you’d been foolish enough to act out of line, I really would’ve thrown you out this time.”
“…”
“What are you, anyway?”
Right? The mocking, scornful laugh made Deborah let out a bitter chuckle of her own.
There wasn’t a single thing wrong with his words… What was she, anyway?
For a fleeting moment, she felt even more pathetic for having entertained such thoughts.
It was just a whim, obviously without any deeper reason, so why had she foolishly tried to find meaning in it?
“I should’ve just turned back earlier… No, I shouldn’t have come here in the first place…”
Even knowing it was useless regret, a corner of her heart ached.
Just as she was about to resolve to return to her place and open her mouth to speak—
“Tell me.”
“…Pardon?”
Wasn’t it over? Caught off guard by the continued questioning, Deborah couldn’t help but ask back.
“What kind of person are you? Why do I keep showing you leniency? Explain it well.”
“…”
“Who knows? If you do, maybe I’ll let it slide one more time, no matter what mistake you make next.”
At his smiling words, Deborah clenched her fists tightly.
Was this who he was? Someone who mocked and trampled on others’ feelings without a care, wielding his status…
She hadn’t expected anything from him, but the sight of him, reminiscent of the countless vile and disgusting people she’d encountered in life, made her heart grow colder.
Even in this moment, her situation—unable to even open her mouth—remained unchanged, but she no longer wanted to grovel pathetically before him.
As if organizing her thoughts, Deborah stood up from her seat.
“I’m sorry. I’ll take my leave—”
“Sit.”
No sooner had she spoken than a commanding, authoritative order cut her off.
Normally, Deborah would have backed down by now, but this time was different.
Stubbornly standing her ground, she opened her mouth to speak again.
“Unless you have any specific tasks for me… I’ll return to my place now.”
Unthinkable.
A lowly maid daring to defy the orders of her employer, the Duke of Ruvake—
It was something that couldn’t, and shouldn’t, happen.
It was a grave matter, one that could lead to punishment or dismissal, considered a disruption of the hierarchy, with no legal protection whatsoever.
She wasn’t unaware of this, but the problem was that she had no room to consider such things right now.
She didn’t want to know what the duke was thinking.
Deborah turned to leave the garden.
She would have done so, had the duke not grabbed her arm and forced her back down to sit.
“…”
“…”
The surroundings sank into heavy silence in an instant.
The only sound was the occasional ragged breathing from Deborah, overcome with emotion, as if time itself had stopped, with no other sound to be heard.
How much time passed as they glared at each other in the darkness?
Finally, breaking the silence so still that even breathing was inaudible, the man’s mouth opened.
“You’re really angry.”
The soft, flowing voice was almost like a whisper of secrets.
Hah, a hollow laugh escaped Deborah’s lips.
Wasn’t that what he wanted?
She couldn’t fathom the mind of a man who crushed someone’s pride and then asked if they were angry.
As Deborah’s brow furrowed sharply, the duke’s eyes, watching her closely, softened into a curve.
“Then, shall I tell you?”
“…”
What kind of person you are— The languid voice tickled her ears, and suddenly, a faint fragrance wafted to her nose.
That familiar scent.
The moment she realized when she had smelled it before, the distance between her and the man closed in an instant.
And the action that followed, as natural as flowing water.
Deborah held her breath and quietly watched the man’s actions as his hand settled on her hair.
“A poor orphan… with nowhere to go.”
Her eyes began to tremble with confusion as his gentle movements glided through her hair.
Her mind went blank, a jumbled mess.
She couldn’t process what he had just said or what was happening to her now.
“A lowly maid… employed by the Cheister family.”
Before she could piece together the fragments in her mind, his next words flowed from his mouth.
Each word, though still cutting into her, was delivered with such soft, secretive gestures, so different from their sting.
The hand that had been stroking her hair paused briefly at her cheek… then finally settled on her lips.
The moment his long, firm fingers caressed her full lips, a short moan seemed to escape Deborah’s mouth.
The precarious atmosphere enveloping them shifted in that instant.
“And…”
As his thick thumb pressed lightly on her lower lip, it parted slightly, as if crumbling.
“…The wicked witch who keeps shaking me up.”
His voice came like a sigh.
With those words, a dark shadow fell over Deborah’s face in an instant.
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By Anna 💓
