Chapter 114
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Chapter 114
Carolian Adeia.
Though her hair had grown somewhat dull with neglect, the woman possessed locks of golden-tinged dusty pink and eyes of pale sky blue.
Such uncommon coloring commanded a second glance, regardless of how tattered her appearance had become.
Perhaps this was what a beloved forest sprite would look like if she had fallen into tragic love with a human.
"P-please. Please...! Please, help me. Please... *sob*, *whimper*...!"
The woman came running with dirt-caked bare feet and seized the hem of Grace's skirt.
Once a cheerful girl innocent of sorrow, she now lay prostrate at Grace's feet, her face etched with suffering and despair, weeping.
"Hush, compose yourself. Crying like that will only give you a headache. Julie, would you fetch a warm cup of tea? Gabriel, I'm sorry to trouble you, but could you bring a shawl for this woman? She's trembling terribly."
At Grace's request, the two moved swiftly.
Grace helped the sobbing Carol to her feet and guided her to the sofa.
Though the day was not cold, Carol's body trembled uncontrollably.
As Grace made her way to the Main Residence, she recalled what Haem had briefly explained.
'According to Rüfel's report, a man named Torres, who serves as Norman's attendant, has disappeared.'
Torres.
Norman's attendant and the man who had protected the woman.
Grace recalled the ordinary, unremarkable face of the man.
The desperate figure of a man trying to shield Carol.
'He apparently never left the Oellin Estate, yet from around midday his presence vanished entirely. The observer watching him reported immediately to Rüfel, and suspecting foul play, Rüfel went to find the woman.'
On the wedding day, Grace had instructed Rüfel to keep watch over Torres.
Torres had some sort of connection to this pitiful-looking woman, though she could not explain it precisely.
He was certainly not family.
That left only a few plausible answers.
Of course, among them was the possibility of some connection to Norman Oellin.
Yet Grace desperately hoped it was not so.
If despair had shadowed the woman's face because of her hopeless brother....
She could not fathom how terrible the suffering this woman must have endured.
'While heading toward a cabin we had identified beforehand, Rüfel discovered this woman running frantically. Sensing something was gravely amiss, he brought her directly here.'
As Grace listened to Haem's account, she sensed something was missing.
Looking at the weeping woman, Grace suddenly grasped the nature of that discrepancy.
"But... where is the child?"
"...!"
The woman, who had been curled up crying, suddenly lifted her head.
And immediately her contorted face broke into fresh sobs.
"H-he... he told me to abandon the baby. T-to, to get rid of it...."
"He, you mean...."
At Grace's probing question, Carol bit her lip hard.
Her parched, cracked lips trembled with difficulty, as though steeling herself.
"The Young Duke, that is... Norman, sir."
"...!"
Grace Oellin's eyes squeezed shut without her realizing it.
I'd said he was mad, and Norman truly was a vicious creature.
If Carol spoke truth and she was Norman's mistress, then that infant would surely have been his child.
Yet he'd ordered her to abandon even his own offspring?
'...Mother was right. Norman is a demon.'
Norman had lacked all moral compass even as a child—the kind who would gouge out his sibling's eyes without hesitation.
There was no possibility he'd developed a shred of humanity by adulthood.
Looking back now, it almost seemed he'd tormented her far less than she might have expected.
'Was it because of trauma...?'
Or perhaps the lingering marks Mother had left behind.
Though my memories weren't complete, when Mother had returned to the Estate with me, Norman was the one she'd been most wary of.
Norman, bearing the memory of Mother's hands around his throat, had never approached or touched me easily.
Once, Norman had pretended to stumble and pushed Grace down the stairs.
She'd twisted her ankle, but fortunately it hadn't broken.
Yet that very night, when Norman came down for water, his leg was broken.
Norman claimed he couldn't remember how it had happened.
The Marquis Capren had made a fuss, wondering if his son had developed sleepwalking.
But the physicians had always diagnosed it as anything but sleepwalking.
Still, this pattern repeated itself several times over.
Whenever Norman deliberately injured Grace, he would invariably suffer injuries many times worse.
"I t-told Torres to make the baby disappear.... But he secretly kept the child alive without the Young Marquis knowing."
Grace, who had been sifting through childhood memories for a moment, quickly pulled herself back to the present.
What mattered now wasn't events from over a decade past, but what was unfolding in this very moment.
"Then where is the baby?"
"He wouldn't tell me, only said he'd taken the child somewhere safe. He said he'd tell me later when it was secure, and not to worry...."
Fresh tears welled in Carol's already tear-streaked eyes.
With trembling hands, she gripped Grace's hand tightly.
"But that person... that person found out! So he, he... ordered me to tell him where the baby is... but I don't know, I truly don't know, so I couldn't tell him."
It seemed Torres had deliberately withheld the baby's location from Carol, foreseeing this very situation.
Wise of him.
The tragedy was that neither of them possessed the strength to protect themselves.
"So the Young Marquis said he'd k-kill Torres, and left in a terrible rage!"
Carol recalled the moment Norman had burst in, consumed by fury.
Torres might die.
She and the baby might die at any moment as well.
She'd lost the will to live long ago, but now facing the possibility of death, tears blurred her vision.
My baby, whom I've never properly held or played with.
My little Melissa.
I never even got to tell her once that I love her.
"So, Miss! No, Madam! Please, I beg you—save Torres and my child! Please! Torres said you were the only one who could stand against the Young Duke!"
"Calm yourself."
"Please! They'll die! They'll die if you don't help. He's the only one, the only person who ever cared for me."
Tears streamed ceaselessly from Carol's eyes.
Her voice trembled, her body shook uncontrollably, yet Carol gazed up at Grace with desperate, pleading eyes.
"If he dies, then it's my turn next. The child too, and—and our Melissa will die as well. I don't care about myself, but our Melissa... to die by Father's hand like this. It's too cruel, far too cruel...."
To be born into such injustice....
My little one, born into this world, whom I've never once treated kindly.
She cannot be allowed to die so miserably....
Carol's voice, muffled behind her hands, whispered forth and overlapped with the voice of her mother.
'Please! Please save this child! Please, I'll do anything!'
'Take my eyes!'
Ice water flooded through Grace's chest.
It was a cold so piercing that the word "cold" alone could not describe it.
"Stand up.... Your name is Carol, yes?"
"Miss, no, Madam. Please, save my baby. Help us. Save Torres too, please!"
Carol truly believed her own life meant nothing.
Due to her youth, naivety, and indecisive nature, she had done nothing until now—merely existed.
She had only watched misfortune unfold, despaired, and wept.
'If only I had been smarter, more ruthless, wiser....'
She could have escaped that hell before it came to this.
Only after watching her child vanish and Torres dragged away did she realize how complacent she had been.
She felt utterly powerless and worthless, collapsed and sobbing as she was.
"I'll do anything. Anything! So please... please."
Anything.
Grace understood the desperation contained in those three words.
A plea that cast aside pride, life, suffering, and future alike.
"...Grace, leave this to me."
Lucas Black, who had been watching silently until now, spoke for the first time.
Grace turned to look at Lucas.
"I will handle it within my means."
Yes. Lucas Black was more than capable.
Perhaps the child and Torres could be found within a single day.
Even her desired revenge might be possible.
But....
'If it ends so easily, wouldn't it be too hollow?'
Grace clenched her fists tightly.
Her heart was not shallow enough to rejoice in something resolved in a day through another's hand.
She wanted, absolutely, to deal with Norman herself.
Even if she could not do it as easily and simply as Lucas, or rather, she preferred not to do it so easily.
"No."
Every single step of the process mattered.
"I want to do it myself. With my own hands, directly."
Lucas chuckled softly, as if he had anticipated Grace's refusal.
"I thought you might say that."
"But... I was hoping you could help me a little."
"Of course."
"Please lend me some people. Trustworthy ones, skilled ones."
Like a knight serving a queen's command, Lucas bowed respectfully and pressed his lips to the back of Grace's hand.
"I await your orders, madam."
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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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