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Chapter 28
“Helena isn’t a fool. She’s not the kind of person to completely make something up and exaggerate. I know that well. And… I understand where she’s coming from to some extent. Taking me in….”
Her voice trailed off for a moment. She cleared her throat and continued.
“Taking me in at the beginning must have been a bit of a burden. Even if you’re a duke, there’s no way there wouldn’t be political pressure from something like this.”
“That’s not something for you to worry about.”
He spoke with tired eyes. Though a good distance separated them, she could sense it even from where she sat.
“I was the one who decided to take you in. That’s for me and the high council members leading the ducal house to worry about. A child like you shouldn’t be concerning yourself with such things.”
His opinion echoed that of his son’s. She could clearly picture him now, waiting outside anxiously.
“Reedmore… was the first person to apologize to me.”
This time, it was the duke who fell silent. His face was unreadable—whether it was surprise or something else, she couldn’t tell.
“No matter how slim the possibility is, even if it’s just one in ten thousand… I don’t want someone like him to be harmed because of me. That matters more to me than revealing what I went through.”
He gave no reaction. She hurried to speak again.
“I do mean it when I say I want to take revenge with my own hands. I’m confident I can do it. I don’t want to pass the burden onto Desmier. That’s a right I’ve kept safe and cherished for myself.”
Their eyes remained locked in a long stare. Only after a long silence did the duke respond.
“…If that’s how you feel.”
“Thank you.”
Was it right to thank him? She wasn’t sure. But no better words came to mind, so she just said it.
The duke laced his fingers and brought his hands to his mouth before asking,
“Is there anything else you want to say?”
She thought for a moment before speaking.
“What will you do about Ashley?”
“I’ll do whatever you wish.”
“…Did you investigate her as well?”
“Yes.”
The duke opened a drawer, took out a sheet of paper, and read from it.
“Ashley Emma Minker. 31 years old. She has three children—ages 10, 8, and 5. Her husband is a traveling merchant currently in another region. After leaving the baron’s household, her income sharply declined and she turned to crime. She worked at the lowest level of a pickpocket gang, committed a few thefts, and helped deliver stolen goods.”
“…Please hand her over to the patrol and let her be punished according to the law.”
She bit her lip as she spoke. The duke’s eyes widened slightly.
“That’s it?”
She hesitated before adding,
“Just… take care of her children until their father returns.”
She quickly bowed her head, not wanting to see the expression on the duke’s face. Words tumbled out like an excuse.
“They’re not guilty of anything.”
The answer came after a long pause.
“…Very well.”
A strange nervousness washed over her, and she hurriedly stood up, bowed to the duke, and prepared to leave.
“Then, I’ll take my leave.”
She had just reached the door when—
“Kalia.”
Just before she grabbed the handle, she heard his voice. Her hand trembled slightly, but she turned her body forward.
And then, the duke said something completely unexpected.
“…I’m sorry.”
It felt like someone was choking her.
Her throat tightened, and her tongue felt stiff.
He exhaled deeply and continued.
“After your father—that man—died, I left you in that household without checking in on you… I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t say anything. Her mind went completely blank.
“My blind faith in bloodlines clouded my judgment. Blame my foolishness.”
His tired and slow voice reached her ears like lead.
“I assumed the baron’s family would take proper care of you. I thought the rumors I heard about you growing up were just natural. I didn’t bother to look deeper. I just assumed you had inherited madness…”
It felt like the air itself was pressing down on her.
The duke scoffed at himself.
“Funny, isn’t it? I judged by rumors alone, and it turns out—the one labeled wicked was just a blameless child, and those praised as good were monsters wearing human masks.”
His dark red eyes—deeper and duller than his son’s—held an unfathomable mix of emotions as he looked at her.
“…I’m sorry, Kalia.”
“…I’ll take my leave now.”
She didn’t even know if she bowed properly. She ran out of the room, not knowing how she had even opened the door.
It slammed shut louder than expected. Her heart was pounding.
“Ah…”
She was breathless, as if she had run a long distance.
Did I really resent the duke?
The passing thought shocked her. She didn’t know. Even she couldn’t understand her own heart.
Not when she was dying. Not after she had returned.
She had never once truly resented the duke—or so she thought.
Her father’s sins were his own. The Duke of Desmier was a just punisher.
That was all she believed.
The main reason she had sought him out in this life was because he was a powerful duke.
Even if the one who killed her father had been some nameless general from a remote region, she would have crawled under the roof of Desmier, by any means necessary.
Even if the whole world praised him, she believed she alone had the right to resent him. But in truth, she never truly did…
Then what is this feeling?
It wasn’t like what she felt when Reedmore apologized. It was dizzying.
She leaned against the railing to catch her breath. A startled voice came from beside her.
“My lady! Are you alright?”
“Ayla…”
Before she knew it, Ayla had come to her side with a worried face and supported her. As she staggered, Ayla placed a hand on her forehead and compared it with her own.
“No fever…”
Then she covered her mouth and whispered.
“You spoke with His Grace, didn’t you? Did something happen? You weren’t found out for serving me, were you?”
“No, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”
Just standing there with her for a while made her feel much better. She stood up from Ayla’s arms. But Ayla still looked worried.
“Whew, that’s a relief… I was so happy when you came home right after your last visit, but please don’t get sick. Lie down and rest. Drink some warm water and sleep—it’ll help.”
With her arm held gently, she allowed herself to be led back to her room.
She murmured vaguely,
“Home…”
“Of course. This is your home, my lady.”
Ayla supported her up the stairs, speaking casually.
Then, noticing Kalia’s expression, her eyes widened.
“Oh my, what’s with your face? Are you sure nothing happened in the study?”
“What about my face?”
Ayla tilted her head, puzzled.
“Your face is pale, and your lips… it’s like you’re about to cry or smile or both…”
Worried, she looped her arm through Kalia’s and led her into the room.
“We’re here. Please lie down.”
“Alright.”
The room was bright and clean. It smelled cozy.
Ayla pulled back the pristine sheets and made space for her to lie down.
“Just close your eyes for a bit. I’ll bring you some water.”
“Okay.”
Soon, she returned with a glass of warm water.
After Kalia drank it all, Ayla gently laid her down and tucked her in to keep even a sliver of cold air out.
Before leaving the room, she brushed Kalia’s hair away from her forehead.
The gentle touch lingered for a long time, staying with her until she fell asleep.
***
When she woke up, it was nearly nightfall. A light touch on her shoulder woke her.
“My lady.”
Ayla was sitting quietly by the bed, watching her. Her weight dipped the mattress slightly.
“You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to wake you.”
As Kalia blinked the sleep from her eyes, Ayla asked gently,
“Would you like a light meal? Then you can go back to sleep.”
She nodded. Ayla lit the room, brought in soup and bread, and helped her sit up against the headboard.
As she ate, Kalia talked about why she and Reedmore had returned to the mansion today, what she had endured while at the baron’s house, and the conversation she had with the duke.
After she finished, Ayla hugged her and said softly,
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“So, there’s no need to observe Desmier anymore. Just relax now.”
“Alright.”
Kalia answered with a slight awkwardness, and Ayla replied firmly,
“But you know you’ll always come first to me, right?”
“I know.”
She gave a faint smile, and Ayla smiled back.
Once Ayla left, Kalia was alone in the room.
Night had fully set in. Moonlight poured through the window.
After a good nap and a warm meal, she felt much better.
Yet, whenever she thought of her time with the duke, a heavy feeling rose in her chest.
She felt like she shouldn’t dwell on it too much. She didn’t think she could handle it yet.
So she set those thoughts aside and focused on what she needed to do going forward.
How do I destroy Helena and Varden?
If she wanted to do it without Desmier’s help, with her own hands alone—what did she need?
Power.
Real, tangible power that no one could ignore.
Power so great that no one would even think of hurting a child who said she was happy to have her and her friend come home.
I need to improve my spirit arts. More than now.
She let out a sigh. She had barely managed a contract with a mid-tier spirit, and now she had to aim for high-tier, top-tier, and even the Spirit King.
Still… it’s okay.
Lying on her side, gazing at the moon, she made a promise to herself.
I came back. I crossed death and defied fate to be here.
I have time.
She closed her eyes.
And someday—she would succeed.
