TVOWW 30

Chapter 30

I Came to Save You

Erich’s expression as he strode toward me was downright terrifying.

This is bad!

Honestly, when it was just Betty around, I wasn’t afraid. I couldn’t fully trust Betty, but if I wanted to keep something a secret, she never tried to force it out of me. I believed she would carry out my request.

But Erich is different.

The more I refuse to open the door, the more suspicious he’ll get—and he’ll force it open.

If it were Johann, he would have hidden his rampages from Erich, too.

If Erich were to discover Johann collapsed like this, things would get much more complicated. When he reached me, Erich studied me sharply with his hawk-like eyes.

“What exactly are you plotting here in the Blanchet household?”

“Erich Blonieu!”

Betty, who had been on the verge of tears while looking at me, suddenly snapped in anger. It was the first time I’d ever seen such a frightening look on her face.

“How can you say something like that to Madam? Madam and I are having a private conversation right now—don’t interfere!”

“No. I can’t just step aside because you say so. This concerns the security of the household.”

Ignoring Betty’s words, Erich reached to open the door. Without thinking, I reached out to stop him.

“Why is there blood…?”

Erich grabbed my arm. His gaze wavered as he looked at my hand.

Ah. No way.

When I first got up, my hand had been fine. But now, the wound from my dream had somehow appeared there.

When did this happen?

I’d been too distracted to even notice. My palm wasn’t just scratched—it was smeared with blood.

I didn’t feel pain, so I didn’t realize…

I quickly hid my hand.

How am I supposed to explain this?

Both Betty and Erich stared at me in an uneasy silence. Drip. Drops of blood I hadn’t managed to wipe away fell onto the floor. Betty’s already wet eyes filled with deeper sorrow, while Erich…

Why is he reacting like that?

His face went pale, as if he’d just seen a ghost.

Recently, Erich hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Estelle.

Master actually made that woman the Duchess of Blanchet.

Without a word of consultation, Johann had filed a marriage registration with Estelle. He even obtained the emperor’s recognition and the temple’s seal. Even as Duke Blanchet, killing one’s legal wife so carelessly would be difficult. Johann had listed several rational reasons, but to Erich, they all sounded like excuses.

It was around then that he encountered Estelle. She had been sitting precariously atop a tall tree, as if she might fall at any moment.

It’s been a while, Baron Blonieu.

How had those frail arms managed to climb up there? His mind went blank, and Erich found himself furious at Estelle. It would only be a good thing if she died.

Don’t worry about it.

Her answer had been expected. From the very beginning, Erich himself had refused to treat her as the mistress of the house—or even as a person worthy of basic respect. He had ignored her, mocked her, and deliberately twisted words to wound her.

You hate me anyway. I’ll come down on my own, so you don’t need to meddle anymore.

I’ll handle it myself. Even if I fall, I won’t die.

Her resigned voice was that of someone who had tried to die many times before.

If I die, wouldn’t that be a good thing for you?

If I accidentally die, wouldn’t you be pleased?

Logically, she wasn’t wrong. But the moment Estelle mentioned the Blonieu family, Erich had felt inexplicable despair.

Her face had been so pale, as though she might disappear at any second. Without realizing it, words he hadn’t intended spilled from his lips.

“…Then if you want to die, do it somewhere else.”

Estelle Libertan. She was nothing more than a discarded adoptee of the Blonieu family. She was supposed to be nothing but Master’s tool of vengeance, soon to be disposed of.

You’re just a fake.

So why was the thought of her dying so frightening?

Denying the impulse that surged up inside him, Erich had babbled excuses before fleeing her side.

No. The mistake was mine, for even thinking I could converse with someone like you.

He hadn’t been talking with Estelle. He had known all along it was pointless to exchange words with her—yet he had, once again, proving his own stupidity.

Leaving the garden immediately, he had gone back later out of concern, looking for that tree.

This is only to make sure I don’t ruin Master’s revenge.

But by then, Estelle was already gone. As though the conversation moments before had been nothing but an illusion. Erich had stared blankly at the tree for a long time.

What on earth is she?

He knew Estelle was hiding something. From her sudden revelation of the amethyst incident, to the orphanage—every event was suspicious. It was reasonable for Erich to find her unsettling. Yet most of the Blanchet household remained oblivious to these things, and still naturally accepted her as the real mistress of the house. Even Patricia, who he’d thought shared his views!

When he returned to the mansion, Erich noticed the bloodstained handkerchief in Betty’s hand.

That handkerchief—what is it?

It’s nothing. Just one of the pieces of evidence I gathered while undercover as a spy. I was about to dispose of it.

When did you gather it? What evidence of what?

That’s none of your concern.

But Erich couldn’t shake the feeling that it belonged to Estelle. Which only unsettled him more.

“What exactly are you hiding?”

When he caught Estelle and Betty secretly scheming, he was convinced he had stumbled on something incriminating.

“What are you plotting here in the Blanchet household?”

As if interrogating a criminal, he pressed Estelle and tried to force his way into the room.

I’ll expose the truth about this woman.

He ignored Betty’s attempts to stop him. Estelle trying to block the door only confirmed his suspicions.

But what he witnessed was not at all what he expected.

“Why is there blood…?”

Blood stained the hand she was trying so hard to hide. It looked fresh. Immediately, the handkerchief Betty had been holding flashed through his mind. He remembered the rumors he had dismissed as nonsense—about Estelle being ill.

Did you hear that Madam is terminally ill? She may have lived in Libertan, but she’s not even their real daughter, just an adopted one. I feel sorry for her.

I’ve met her in person, and she was truly kind. Strictly speaking, she hasn’t committed any crime. And if she doesn’t have long to live…

Could those rumors actually be true?

Her detached attitude toward death suddenly made sense. Through the crack of the door, he saw blood drip onto the floor. Who knew how much more was staining the bed beyond.

She’s been enduring it all along.

Estelle could have used her illness, her short life, as an excuse to garner sympathy. Instead, she quietly bore it, smiling as she carried Libertan’s sins.

Why…?

She wasn’t the villainess Erich had imagined.

“I never thought you were really this sick…”

Betty shoved Erich harshly, cutting off his mumbling.

“Are you satisfied now? Forcing out the very thing Madam most wanted to hide—does that make you feel good?”

Erich collapsed weakly to the floor. His glasses clattered away, his hair fell in disarray. But he didn’t even think to pick them up. He simply stared blankly at Estelle.

“I…I…”

“Baron Blonieu. Are your doubts all cleared up now?”

With a troubled smile, Estelle hid her hand and slowly closed the door.

“Sorry to have shown you such an unsightly sight. I’ll rest now. Betty, I’ll leave things to you.”

Click. The sound of the door locking echoed.

Johann suddenly snapped awake. But unlike usual, his body felt strangely refreshed.

Has the rampage ended?

This use of dark magic had been unexpected. He had only wanted to delight Estelle by decorating the ballroom with magic—he hadn’t anticipated an ambush. Nor that he would annihilate his enemies to protect her.

But Estelle…?

Despite her innocent, rabbit-like face, Estelle had stubbornly insisted on staying by his side. He hadn’t been able to force her away, and it seemed he had nearly attacked her instead…

“Wife?”

Estelle was dozing right beside him, head bowed. In her hand was a wet cloth—she must have spent the night tending to him.

She’s alive.

The realization relieved him greatly, but also puzzled him. From the first signs of his rampage, Johann had always retreated to a controlled location. Under normal circumstances, nothing could have stopped him.

But the side effects don’t mean I’ll necessarily die. If you’ll allow it, I want to stay by your side, Your Grace.

Her voice had made him hesitate. And everything changed. Johann hadn’t escaped to his usual hideout where he could manage the aftermath. The mansion should have been destroyed by his power.

But…

From the room to the entire estate, everything was intact.

How?

At that moment, Estelle stirred awake, rubbing her eyes. Her soft, cream-pink platinum hair shimmered, releasing a scent that teased him.

“Your Grace?”

She looked at him with wide, rabbit-like eyes, filled with awe. Her deep navy eyes seemed to hold only him, as if he were her entire world.

Every time Johann looked into her eyes, he thought the same thing. Estelle always gazed curiously into his crimson eyes—but in truth, it was her mysterious navy ones that were more beautiful than any jewel. No gem could capture that depth of light.

When her long lashes fluttered shyly, Johann felt an intense urge to shatter her with his own hands—because even her broken state would be beautiful.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, bathing her in radiance. She smiled, dazzling as the clear morning light itself.

“I’m glad you woke up. How are you feeling?”

Johann had never thought of sunlight as anything but sunlight. But now, as he saw her smiling at him in the bright morning light, he began to understand. Her brilliance was redefining what it meant to shine.

Then he noticed her wrist—red marks remained there, along with injured palms, fingers, and even her neck.

Those marks…

Why did I think nothing happened?

It was impossible for his rampage, the side effects of dark magic, to pass without consequences. If nothing seemed damaged, then someone must have borne the burden.

No matter what happens, I’ll endure it.

That explained it.

“I think something’s wrong with me.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“You…”

Swallowing hard, his languid eyes twisted with pain.

“Why do you look so dazzling to me?”

His heart was beyond repair—because of this foolish, stupid woman.

So the side effects of dark magic really were dangerous.

“I think something’s wrong with me.”

Gone was his usual cold, ruthless demeanor. With dazed eyes, he muttered incomprehensible words.

“You… why do you look so dazzling to me?”

I scratched my cheek awkwardly, glancing toward the window. Has his mind not fully returned yet? He had been feverish for so long. Since Johann was awake now, maybe some fresh air would help.

“I’ll open the window for a moment.”

I rose and opened it. A cool breeze rushed in. We had kept it closed, afraid someone might peek in.

Just then, I felt a strange gaze from outside. Looking down, I saw a man staring up at me with an earnest expression.

Short silver hair, blue eyes, and the classic look of an austere, noble knight. If Johann was like a languid black panther, this man radiated the aura of a chivalrous hero. The wind ruffled his short silver hair as he watched me, expressionless.

That man…

I realized instantly.

Leandro Pelsis.

The male lead of the original story. Leandro had arrived to rescue me from the Blanchet household.

“My lady. I’ve come to save you.”