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74.
As Grace ‌‌‌‌struggled to make sense of the ‌‌situation, the sack was suddenly torn away.
Blinded by the sudden flood of brilliant light, Grace squeezed her ‌‌‌‌eyes shut.
Slowly, she opened them again. Upon confirming the identity of the person before her, she gasped in utter astonishment.
"Kanna! You...."
"It's been a while, Head Maid."
But it wasn't Kanna who had spoken—it was an unknown ‌‌‌woman standing beside her.
Yet the voice was familiar.
As Grace searched her memory, the unknown woman slowly removed the hood of her robe.
Upon identifying the woman, Grace gasped as though on the verge of fainting.
"R-Rebecca, my lady?"
"Yes, it's me."
It was unbelievable.
The last time she had seen Rebecca, her face had been covered in pustules—a grotesque, hideous sight.
Yet the woman before her bore no trace of those terrible scars.
Rather, ‌she stood before Grace with a beauty far surpassing her former self.
"How! How could you have returned to your original state?"
"Returned to my original state? I ‌have always been myself. What has changed is merely your perception of me."
Under Rebecca's cold gaze, Grace's ‌‌‌mouth ‌‌‌fell open.
Rebecca spoke as though a realization had struck her.
"Ah, that's right. Since you and I share ‌‌no ‌‌connection now, I suppose I should stop allowing you to address me so familiarly. I am no longer the Countess of Devonshire whom you once tended to like a child."
"Rebecca, my lady. I am so relieved you have returned...."
Regardless of what Rebecca said, Grace's mind was consumed entirely with the image of Rebecca restored to her former radiant beauty.
It was truly a relief. The cherished visage she had known had not vanished from this world.
Grace wept tears of joy like a parent reunited with a lost child.
Recognizing the meaning behind those tears, Rebecca's face twisted in anguish. She was displeased.
Yet she chose not to voice her displeasure at this moment.
Grace was still a useful tool.
"It seems my return has moved you deeply. To shed tears like that."
"Of course, Rebecca, my lady. The Earl has lost his memory. During this time, Alicia has seized the ‌‌‌position of lady of the house. But now we are saved. Return to the Count's Mansion. The Earl will surely forgive all the wrongs of these past days...."
"Forgive, you ‌‌‌say?"
An incredulous sigh escaped Rebecca's lips.
Grace, oblivious to the anguished contortion ‌‌‌‌of her expression, nodded vigorously.
"Yes. The Earl will surely forgive you. And he will restore you as his Countess. Then everything will return to how it was. Oh, what joyous news!"
Kanna drew a small blade from her bosom, her eyes blazing with fury.
Rebecca glanced at Kanna's hand, then swiftly wrested the blade from her grasp.
Gripping the blade, Rebecca lunged toward Grace with predatory speed.
Rebecca seized Grace's hair roughly, wrenching her head backward.
The blade flashed before Grace's eyes.
The wind from Rebecca's movement extinguished the candle ‌‌that had barely illuminated the small space.
The room quickly grew dim.
Twilight seeped through the small window, casting long shadows across the floor.
Everything had happened so suddenly that Kanna stood frozen, staring blankly ahead.
A chilling aura radiated from Rebecca's silhouette.
"Grace Duncan. Do you dare ask me to return to that place? And to beg for forgiveness? Let ‌me tell you something fascinating. I left of my own accord. You didn't cast me out."
"Ugh... cough."
Grace's knees buckled beneath her as she faced the blade's razor-sharp edge, sharp enough to pierce her eyes.
Rebecca spoke with a sinister tone.
"Return and beg for forgiveness? What forgiveness are you talking about? Ah, how dare a mere ‌‌‌doll break ‌‌‌‌apart, and then become a body incapable of producing another doll? While you all played your wretched doll games with ‌‌‌me, I was alive. I was breathing, fully and completely!"
"Ahhhhh!"
Rebecca tightened her ‌‌grip on Grace's hair, pulling with ‌even greater force. Grace screamed as pain shot through her scalp, ‌‌‌as if her skin were being torn away.
Rebecca pressed the blade against Grace's ‌‌cheek and spoke.
"Right now, I want nothing more than to slit the throats of each and every one of you who made me this way. But that would be too easy, wouldn't it? I should make you regret ever being alive. Don't you think?"
Rebecca withdrew the blade and released Grace's head with a violent shove.
Blood dripped from the wound the blade had carved into Grace's cheek.
Grace's once-immaculate hair fell into complete disarray.
With her hair disheveled, Grace wept.
"You... you were never like this before."
Rebecca answered coldly.
"Perhaps I ‌‌‌wasn't always like this. But you made me this way."
Grace's eyes widened in a final, desperate struggle.
"Then what will you do now? Seek revenge? What power do you have? You're not foolish enough to dream that you could leave even a scratch on the great House of Devon, are you?"
"The more futile a ‌‌dream, the more desperately one wishes to fulfill it. And I'm not sure why you ‌‌think I have no power."
Grace looked up at Rebecca with confusion written across her face.
She couldn't comprehend what was happening.
That angelic countess was lunging at her with a blade. Those beautiful lips were speaking such harsh words.
It all felt like a dream.
And that conviction only deepened as Rebecca's next actions unfolded.
At Rebecca's command, Kanna covered her nose and mouth with cloth and lit a red incense ‌‌‌stick.
Rebecca slowly removed ‌‌‌her robe and stood before Grace.
The savage gleam in her eyes vanished, replaced by a gentle gaze.
"I have you, don't I? So why would I have no power?" ‌‌
"Ah... ‌‌‌ah..."
Grace's ‌‌teeth chattered as they knocked together. Tears ‌streamed endlessly from her eyes, filled with regret.
"L-Laila..."
Rebecca's lips slowly curved upward.
She wore a simple, unadorned dark brown dress, her smile radiating warmth and affection.
It was the same dress that Grace's daughter, Laila, had ‌‌‌often worn.
Laila, who was petite ‌with chestnut hair and dark eyes, bore no resemblance to Rebecca whatsoever.
Yet Grace felt as though Laila herself was looking down at her.
"Laila! Laila!"
Grace shrieked, her voice piercing and desperate. Her cry was saturated with regret and longing.
Rebecca paused momentarily, surprised by the more dramatic reaction than she had anticipated.
But soon Rebecca laughed.
It was a smile of victory.
Laila Duncan was a woman who rarely made her presence known.
Her footsteps were silent enough to produce no sound, and she seldom voiced her ‌‌own opinions.
Many people failed to notice her presence even ‌‌‌when she had been beside them for tens of minutes, startling only when they belatedly realized she was there.
Before her health deteriorated, Laila attended every event at the Count's Mansion alongside Grace without fail.
Grace ‌‌‌had marked Laila as the next head maid of the Devonshire Family and educated her thoroughly from childhood.
Had ‌‌‌her health not worsened, Laila would have begun her duties at Devonshire soon.
Among all the brilliantly dressed people, Laila always stood like a folding screen in modest, understated attire.
When Rebecca wore the revealing, glittering dresses that ‌‌‌were Zeppelin's preference, Grace would always furrow her brow slightly and fasten the dress with pins.
'The more modest a woman is, the more beautiful she becomes.'
Judging by Grace's actions, Laila's wardrobe was undoubtedly a complete reflection of Grace's own taste.
Though Laila possessed no presence whatsoever, Rebecca had observed her closely.
I thought her vacant eyes resembled my own.
From time to time, Laila would gaze into empty space with clouded eyes, and whenever she did, I found myself unconsciously following her gaze to wherever it led.
Was it the same for Laila?
She too occasionally cast her gaze toward me.
When our eyes met, Laila would respond with a faint smile.
Her smile appeared as precarious as that of ‌‌‌someone standing at the edge of ‌a cliff, offering one final expression before the fall.
I couldn't ‌‌‌‌help but suspect that Laila might have taken her own life.
I reasoned that she must have desperately wanted to show her mother one last time—her final moment.
She would have wanted revenge.
Had I been ‌‌Laila, I would have done the same.
So when Laila said she was in critical condition, I found myself helping Grace with unexpected fervor.
So that Laila could hurl one final word of vengeance at Grace.
'It was Mother who killed me.'
Grace heard Laila's phantom voice echoing in her ears. With her arms bound, Grace writhed in her chair.
"Laila... I raised you with all my might! So why did you leave ‌‌this mother ‌‌‌‌behind ‌‌‌first? I never taught you such things! That's not who you ‌are!"
"Look carefully, Grace. I am not Laila."
Rebecca stepped closer ‌‌‌to Grace, one deliberate pace at a time.
Cracks began to form in Grace's heart, which had been as impenetrable as an iron fortress.
Using Laila felt somewhat distasteful, but the effect was undeniable.
I reveled in mocking the now-shattered Grace.
Grace's eyes glistened with tears as she blinked endlessly.
Now she lacked even the strength to writhe in her chair.
She simply hung limply, watching me as I sought to ‌‌shatter the cracked remnants of her heart completely.
"So no matter how much ‌‌‌you pour accusations toward Laila, she cannot hear ‌‌‌‌them. Your regrets will not be washed away. Laila is dead. Because of you."
"No... ‌No! I killed Laila..."
"That's right. I assumed you wouldn't understand anything I said anyway. So I'll make use of that stupidity of yours."
Rebecca pressed her face close to Grace, who was half-dazed.
Grace's breath caught for ‌‌‌‌a moment at Rebecca's dizzying proximity.
"You promised to help me once, didn't you? Open the doors of Devonshire wide for me whenever I desire." ‌‌
At the mention of Devonshire, a flicker of awareness returned to Grace's eyes for an instant.
Grace's eyes widened.
"Are you truly trying to destroy House of Devon? Do ‌‌‌you ‌think I ‌‌‌‌would stand by and watch such a thing happen? How dare you threaten me by invoking Laila's name."
"How amusing. The one person least deserving to long for Laila speaks such words."
"What exactly are you saying now...?"
"Don't worry. That mansion ‌‌‌you love so dearly ‌‌‌is not the target of my revenge. I'll give it to you. That filthy place."
Grace's ‌‌‌eyes rolled back.
The Countess Who Fled Has Returned
E-book Publication

January 12, 2022
Author

Ginbamhaneul
Publisher

Desert Fox
Published by

Woongjin ThinkBig Co., Ltd.
Submission Reception

naver.me/54VzzLSn
Blog

blog.naver.com/wj_fennecfox
Twitter

@wjt_fennecfox

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