Chapter 104
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Episode 104
"My, your face is quite flushed. You're not running a fever, are you?"
The elderly woman who had turned to look at Grace as she hurried into the reception room asked with concern.
Grace touched her burning cheeks and quickly waved her hand in dismissal.
"I changed clothes in such a rush that my body temperature rose a bit."
"You needn't have hurried. I was simply admiring these magnificent horse portraits adorning the walls. Every single one is majestic and splendid."
Kashanu, the elderly woman, spoke slowly as she gazed at the various portraits and photographs hanging on the reception room walls.
Grace followed the elderly woman's gaze to the framed pictures decorating the walls.
Even when I first came to this mansion, I had sensed it—a place brimming with obvious affection for horses.
Now that I knew the truth, this wasn't merely affection for horses; it was the very history of the Black Family itself.
The elderly woman's gaze settled on the painting hung at the highest point.
It was a banner embroidered with the family crest.
"...When this nation was first founded, seven knights were said to have journeyed to Witch's Island."
"Pardon?"
Kashanu had suddenly brought up an unexpected tale.
"Witch's Island was abundant with natural treasures. Rumors spread that gold would pour forth from merely digging into the earth. Some even spoke of a spring that could resurrect the dead... But would seven knights have ventured to the island merely for such riches?"
The elderly woman was recounting the founding legend.
The seven knights who had brought Zeronium into existence.
It was a tale of the Seven Great Families, including the Black Family that I now stood within.
"It has been far too long now. No one would know. It is a story so ancient that no one could possibly remember it. It is a tale that no one speaks of anymore."
The elderly woman smiled gently and pointed to the painting of a black horse.
"Do you know, child?"
"Pardon?"
"Among all these countless photographs of horses, there is only one horse that matches exactly the black horse depicted on that banner."
The elderly woman's finger precisely identified the photograph taken when Lucky—or rather, Lucas—had been transformed into a horse.
"A black horse. Black of the black horses. Truly a magnificent black steed. What splendid legs for running."
The elderly woman's wrinkled hand gently caressed the black horse within the painting.
Grace felt an odd sensation wash over her.
In the elderly woman's eyes, I glimpsed something akin to longing.
There was a peculiar ache in my chest, though it was difficult to express in words.
Suddenly, the elderly woman turned and looked at Grace.
"That's right. I wasn't waiting to tell you this story. Come now, sit closer. The tea is wonderfully fragrant, and the pastries are quite sweet."
She tapped her hunched back and settled heavily into the sofa.
Grace, who had been hesitating, leaned back against the sofa across from her.
"Yes, let me see... What shall I tell you first? Ah, yes. I'll tell you when and how I saw your mother."
Your mother.
At those two words, my heart sank heavily.
"You knew my mother?"
"I did. A pitiful and delicate woman who drifted into this foreign land. Yet she was an extraordinarily resilient woman who never once surrendered to despair."
Kashanu found someone in Grace's appearance.
Fortunately, mother and daughter bore a striking resemblance to each other.
It was not difficult to discern her mother in Grace's face.
"At that time, I had paused my travels and was staying in the Capital. For amusement, I would read tarot for noblewomen. My readings were quite accurate, so I became quite popular. It was then that I happened to meet your mother."
The elderly woman spoke in a languid, drowsy manner, as if recounting an old fairy tale.
A beautiful woman who had stepped into her small divination parlor.
The moment Kashanu saw the eyes of that delicate woman as she carefully entered, cradling her rounded belly as if it were precious, she understood.
This frail woman was of the 'same kind' as herself.
And she, too, would have recognized it the moment she looked upon Kashanu.
Yes.
How could one forget that moment?
Those eyes—so sorrowful yet so resolute.
* * *
Elenoa approached Kashanu with firm resolve and asked.
'I came because I wanted to know something.'
'What is it?'
'...The fate of this child.'
'Ah....'
Kashanu understood at once what she meant.
She wanted to know whether the child within her womb might live a life similar to her own.
'That is not the child's choice to make, is it?'
At the old woman's words, Elenoa's face drained of color.
Those words meant that the child in her womb, too, would be bound by a fate of 'choice'.
'Choice... I see. But is that kind of choice something we can refuse?'
Elenoa laughed hollowly, stroking the vigorous, immature life force that was kicking forcefully within her belly.
This strange destiny arrives like a thunderbolt, striking one's entire body in an instant.
After suffering for days and nights as if afflicted by a raging fever, a peculiar man appears.
He called himself a 'Guardian'.
A man with a composed face, yet bearing an expressionless, bare countenance whose age, identity, and intentions remained inscrutable.
He pressed her for an answer without asking anything or showing curiosity.
'Will you accept your fate, or refuse it?'
He asked as if it mattered not which of the two choices she selected.
Elenoa had chosen the path of refusal.
She understood that neither choice would be easy.
But now, she did not wish to choose an uncertain transformation.
She did not want to introduce variables into this life she had managed to endure.
The moment of choice withdrew gracefully, as if respecting her will.
But from that point forward, her fate became twisted.
Every choice spiraled toward catastrophe, and unwanted misfortune sought to shake her to her core.
I didn't realize at first that it was because she had rejected this fate.
Not until Rudiger, that man, appeared again.
'I ask once more. Will you accept it, or will you refuse?'
'...Didn't I already refuse?'
'One's thoughts can change. If you wish, we can undo it now. I ask again. Will you accept? Or will you refuse?'
He implicitly explained that all of this stemmed from her rejection of that fate.
Because she had rejected her destiny, her adoptive parents sold her off in the cruelest manner one day, and Elenoa was forced to become the second wife of a man consumed by greed and lust.
'No. I hate it. What kind of grand destiny gives you the right to toy with me as you please? I will never accept it.'
'...Defying fate is also your choice. But you must bear the consequences that follow.'
'Damn it.... Death would be a mercy.'
She laughed bitterly and let everything go.
It seemed fitting to crumble away and vanish from this world.
But then a variable emerged.
Pregnancy.
The child of a man she despised with every fiber of her being had taken root within her.
At first, Elenoa hated this child.
It was never a child she had wanted, and its existence made escape nearly impossible.
Though she claimed Zeronium as her birthplace, she was ultimately a foreigner there.
Not merely a foreigner, but a woman who had fled while carrying another's child.
What more perilous position could there be?
Yet she could not return to the adoptive parents who had sold her for coin.
The child in her womb was nothing but hateful and repugnant.
Rather than my child, it was that man's seed—the thought filled her with revulsion.
Every day she whispered to her belly.
'Please, please... don't be born. Both you and I will only become more miserable. Don't grow any further. No, just stay as you are, inside me....'
It always stopped there.
She could not bring herself to tell this fragile life, this unformed child still taking shape within her, to simply die. She had to stop before those words could escape.
'You're such an unfortunate child. You shouldn't have been born.... Please. Please, please.'
Then one day, as she muttered her malice toward her belly as she always did, the baby responded.
Thump—
A vibration transmitted precisely into the palm of her hand resting on her rounded belly.
'....'
Shock rendered her incapable of thought, of anything at all.
For some reason, from that moment on, Elenoa's heart thundered in her chest.
It felt as though a light had ignited somewhere in her dead soul.
Surely not.
'You... can you hear me?'
It shouldn't be possible.
It was merely an incomplete life stirring within her womb.
And yet... what if....
But in that moment, my belly stirred with startling precision.
As if the child within was expressing its very existence with my entire being, declaring that it could hear my voice.
'Ah... ah....'
I could no longer hurl cruel words at the child growing within me.
'...Did you hear it all? Really?'
I embraced my swollen belly and wept for a long time.
Those were not words I had meant for it to hear.
Then what was this feeling in my heart now?
I hated it so much—no, I had hated it—yet I could not fathom why my heart ached so painfully, why such sorrow consumed me.
I simply wept endlessly.
What sin had this helpless, pitiful child committed to hear such words from its mother before even being born?
After that day, I no longer clutched my belly and whispered bitter things to it.
Instead, I made a different resolve.
I would no longer despise this swelling belly—I would embrace it.
I swore that I alone would protect you within me.
And so, in this Oellin House filled with malice, I vowed to love only you with my whole heart.
You had merely received life. You would be born only by borrowing my womb.
How could that be a sin?
After that, I searched for 'that man' like one possessed.
But Marquis Capren, who bound me with such cruel determination, left me little I could do.
In the meantime, Grace was born.
Naturally, my enemy of a husband paid her no mind.
What mattered to him was only his son.
The firstborn heir to carry on this house.
But his young son, bearing such a striking resemblance to his father, possessed a temperament that was anything but gentle.
And perhaps because he had lost his mother at such a tender age?
Norman too showed an obsessive attachment to me.
Whenever I held Grace, he would come and act spitefully, or torment the baby.
Naturally, I had no choice but to be stern and frightening toward Norman.
Yet the more I did so, the more he tormented Grace.
I desperately sought to take Grace and flee this Estate—no, this entire country.
My escape attempts were discovered twice.
Each time, Capren tore Grace from my arms.
He locked me away, separated me from my child, and even neglected her until she fell ill.
When I heard that Grace was suffering, even I—so stubbornly proud—begged him myself.
After that, I ceased to harbor thoughts of escaping this Estate.
Instead, I searched for that man with even greater desperation.
'Rudiger, Rudiger...!'
That man, precisely that man!
And at last, I was able to find him.
With the help of an old fortune teller I had once met.
'I heard you found me.'
'Yes, there's something I want to know.'
'What is it?'
'Can I accept the destiny I once rejected... again?'
'...Since you've already borne the karmic consequences, it won't be a complete destiny.'
'That doesn't matter. If I accept it, what will happen to me?'
'You'll gain power.'
'And?'
'...It's one of two things.'
'Tell me.'
'Either a short life or an excessively long one...You cannot choose which.'
'Neither option is particularly appealing.'
Yet despite that, I couldn't let go of this man I had found with such difficulty.
She decided to accept it.
That destiny, whatever it was...
For the sake of the young daughter I must protect at all costs.
'Very well. I'll accept anything. So...'
'...'
'Make me a witch as soon as possible.'
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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