“Poor thing. Men are all like that, aren’t they? We just have to understand them. But don’t worry. You’re the true countess, I guarantee it.”
Rebecca frowned at Fabiola’s clammy hand gripping hers.
She quickly masked it with an innocent expression.
“Your words ease my mind, Mother. By the way, what’s this tea? It’s calming. Did you bring it?”
Fabiola brightened at the mention of the tea.
“Yes! It’s my special blend. Want some to take? I have plenty.”
Rebecca smiled widely.
“Give me a lot, please.”
Alone in her room, Rebecca toyed with the glass jar of tea Fabiola gave her.
Fabiola had kindly included a note on how to brew it for the best flavor.
Rebecca smirked, folded the note neatly, and tucked it with the jar in a drawer.
“I hope I never have to use this…”
Her body ached from the day’s tension.
She massaged her shoulders, heading to bed.
Then she spotted Leo by the window.
“Leo!”
She opened it, and he slipped inside.
Eager for news about the trading company, she bustled about.
“I hoped you’d come, so I prepared milk. Kanna said cats love it. I hope you like it.”
She turned with a saucer of milk and froze in shock.
“Re… becca?”
Yulian stood before her, eyes half-glazed.
< Happy birthday, big brother! >
Yulian stared at the crookedly written birthday card.
Despite his protests, Lily never tired of celebrating his birthday.
Croa cautiously asked, “Shall I return the gift again?”
It was a painting Lily drew of her and Yulian enjoying a picnic with cats.
Normally, he’d send it back unseen, but this time, he didn’t want to.
It was Rebecca’s fault, filling him with pointless hope.
Hope was poison, yet he couldn’t control his shifting heart.
“Forget it. Leave.”
Croa inwardly rejoiced.
Telling Lily her gift was rejected each birthday was torture.
Poor thing…
Her teary, downcast face always broke his heart.
Eager to share the good news, he hurried out.
Lily’s nursemaid, pacing outside, grabbed him.
“What happened?”
“The duke accepted the gift!”
“What? Really?”
“Yes! He seemed pleased, even rewrapped it carefully.”
“Oh my, Lily will be thrilled.”
“Wonder what changed his mind.”
“Maybe he finally feels guilty? Every birthday feels like a funeral…”
“Let’s go before he changes his mind.”
Leo, overhearing from a corner, entered Yulian’s room.
He sighed at the sight of scattered liquor bottles.
“Hey, Leo. Come in. Want a drink? Oh, you don’t eat anything but my divine power. Sorry, I wish I could share this with you.”
Completely wasted. Stop wallowing every birthday.
“Wallowing? That stings. You’re supposed to understand me, comfort me. My soulmate.”
Leo stared at the drunken Yulian.
He understood his pain, whether he wanted to or not.
Since Yulian realized his fate, a heavy stone seemed to crush his chest.
Birthdays made it worse.
A child born to sire heirs.
An immortal forced to watch them die.
The gods were cruel.
Leo had seen every Johannes duke live and die, each life tragic.
Watching them, he felt like a parasite feeding on their existence.
Most dukes feared or despised him.
Yulian was different.
You’ve got a pitiful life too.
He loathed his fate but never blamed Leo.
Yulian’s slurred voice cut through Leo’s thoughts.
“Leo, if the curse breaks, what am I? Everything I have, I didn’t earn. Without the sacred Johannes title, who am I?”
Leo glanced at him, feeling the weight of his despair.
And the lingering image of someone else.
It’s a birthday gift, kid.
Leo leapt to the window and slipped out into the night.
“Yulian! How are you here?”
Yulian blinked slowly, as if processing.
Rebecca grabbed his arm. He flinched at her warmth, stepping back.
“Re, Reb—”
As he tried to shout, she clapped a hand over his mouth.
Silence hung between them.
No sounds came from outside.
She whispered, relieved, “How’d you get here in the middle of the night? Leo was just here…”
“Leo was here?”
Sobering up, Yulian thought for a moment, then laughed incredulously.
“Ha. That’s how it happened. That bastard Leo…”
“Quiet! What if someone hears?”
“Fine. What’s that?”
He pointed to the saucer on the table.
“Milk. For Leo.”
“Finally, something to live for.”
Ignoring her, Yulian gulped it down.
Rebecca watched his bobbing throat, speechless.
“What? You said it’s for Leo. Me drinking it is the same thing.”
“Fine, I’ll let that slide. But how did you get here?”
“Oh, the almighty Rebecca doesn’t know everything?”
“Are you mocking me?”
She glared, and he faltered.
He sighed, slumping onto the bed.
“Not like that. I don’t know why I keep talking like this.”
Is he drunk?
Or was he always this chatty? His rambling excuses felt foreign, and she stared.
“What’s with that look, like I’m some rude kid? Guess I might seem that way to you.”
She sat beside him. His size made the bed feel cramped.
“Why think that? I was just looking.”
“Everyone looks at me like that. I know etiquette; I just learned it’s unnecessary. Being polite takes insane effort.”
Then why’s he in my room at midnight saying this?
Exhaustion hit, and she wanted to kick him out.
But he seemed lonely, so she listened to his whining.
“So, point is, you should do the same.”
“What?”
“Speak casually. We’re to be married, so let’s be comfortable. I don’t know much about respecting a wife.”
“Sure, why not.”
Rebecca agreed without hesitation.
In her past life among commoners, she used informal speech based on age. This felt easier.
Yulian blinked, then burst out laughing.
She looked at him, puzzled.
“You told me to. Why’s that so funny? Should I be formal?”
“No, it’s just… not the usual reaction. People normally flip out or refuse.”
“You want me to?”
“No. You’re interesting.”
“Stop dodging. How’d you get here? Where’s Leo?”
“We can swap places.”
Rebecca stifled a scream, covering her mouth.
Cautiously, she asked, “So… you’re Leo?”
Her reaction amused him, and he grinned.
“Not like that. We can switch locations. Like teleportation.”
“That’s wild.”
“You’re less shocked now. Not impressed? Only Leo and I know this.”
“I’ve seen weirder things in life.”
Coming back from death made teleportation mundane.
Yulian studied her unchanging expression.
“Sometimes you seem like you’ve lived twice.”
Stung, she changed the subject.
“If you can teleport, go home. It’s too risky here.”
“That’s tricky.”
“Why?”
“Teleporting uses a lot of divine power. I need at least three hours to recover.”
“Three hours?”
She frowned, troubled.
Yulian grinned. In truth, he could use it again in thirty minutes.
But he didn’t want to return to his lonely room.
At least until the day passed, he wanted to gaze into Rebecca’s wave-like eyes.
Don’t want to go back?
The thought startled him.
This place—Devonshire’s estate, which he despised—was foreign.
Yet, somehow, he felt more at ease than ever.
Moonlight flooded the dim room.
Yulian stared at Rebecca’s pale face, reflecting the light, as if to etch it into his heart.
