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Chapter : 9. Chapter 1. You Who Came Like a Dream (9)
A man twisted the corner of his lips in a mocking smile at her urgent tone.
His eyes, holding a deep green like fresh leaves, flickered sharply in the darkness. His gaze was just as chilling and clear as Aisila Duncan’s pale eyes.
Ignoring his daughter’s hostility without hesitation, Terriot Duncan rested his chin lazily on his hand.
“Goodness.”
His thin, straight fingers flipped a page of the book.
“I have no idea what nonsense you barged in here suddenly to say.”
“……”
“Was your lover threatening to make your love letters public?”
“I don’t write love letters. Don’t change the subject.”
Her sharp reply sounded too tense, and she didn’t like it. Realizing she was losing her calm, Aisila Duncan steadied her breath.
“I brought a child from the Artez family.”
“…You? The sun will rise in the west tomorrow then.”
“You don’t know what Grandfather’s will says?”
“I’m not interested.”
He treated his father’s will like a scrap of paper lying on the street. She wanted to grab that hopeless man’s hair and tear it out. Suppressing the satisfying imagination, Aisila quickly explained everything.
He pretended to read the book, but he was clearly listening. He never forgot anything he heard.
As expected, Terriot Duncan turned another page and asked casually.
“So. Ruby chose that brat?”
“Yes. She’s an illegitimate child of the Artez family.”
“Then you should ask the Artez count if he caused trouble, not come here and make a mess with me.”
“Why do you think? I already told you.”
That child is a “Duncan.”
…Meaning the child’s parent must be one of the three: Aisila Duncan, Reinhardt Duncan, or Terriot Duncan.
At her cold smile, Terriot Duncan used his book to point at the door.
“Yeah, she’s not my child.”
“……”
“Why don’t you consider that you might have caused trouble and given birth to her?”
“Do I look like I’m old enough to have a six or seven-year-old child, my dear father? I didn’t even expect you to know my age.”
Even with her mocking tone, Terriot did not react. He simply nodded quietly.
“Then she must be Father’s child.”
Congratulations on finding your niece, daughter.
At that absurd reply, Aisila grabbed a nearby book and threw it. He caught it without even looking, which only made her angrier. No matter how much she burned with anger, Terriot only narrowed his eyes, as if the conversation was boring him.
“I’ve said this enough already. It’s definitely not me.”
“……”
“Then she’s not a Duncan.”
“No. She is a Duncan.”
Terriot shrugged. His careless attitude made Aisila grind her teeth.
Fine. There was no point arguing with him. She should have known this would only ruin her mood.
Knowing that, she had still come here—so she was the crazy one.
Aisila glared at the calm man for a moment, then stormed out of the room. The loud slam of the door made Terriot let out a deep sigh.
His daughter was as intense as ever.
He resumed reading as if nothing had happened. The thick pages turned steadily one by one. Anyone watching would think he was deeply focused—but—
“Ha.”
He was not focused at all.
The bomb his daughter left behind was too much.
Terriot clicked his tongue and closed the book.
“Duncan…”
Meanwhile, the Artez countess fainted the moment she saw Lloyd’s face and fell backward. The boy’s hair was a mess, with a large bald patch on his head, and his body was covered in cat scratch marks.
Carried by maids and laid on the bed, she screamed in rage without any concern for dignity.
“Aisila Duncan!”
She couldn’t even finish her insults properly, since she was not used to such words.
But the memory of that voice was too vivid. That clear voice full of contempt, striking her without hesitation. That mocking tone asking if blocking the road would be dangerous.
It was humiliating. So humiliating that her whole body shook.
Even if she had done something wrong, the feeling of having her shame exposed was unbearable.
Just then, noise from downstairs reached her ears. Hearing the commotion, she screamed again.
“What is going on!”
High heels stepped sharply on the carpet. She turned toward the sound—and froze.
“That is what I should be asking, madam.”
A man with a slightly tired face looked at her calmly.
Green eyes like summer leaves. Messy brown hair. Firm lips. A slightly arrogant nose. Dark shadows under his eyes.
The master of the mansion—her husband, the Artez Count.
She had been told he would be gone for a long trip. Her anger flared instantly. She tried to slap him, but he easily caught her wrist.
“Where is Ronell?”
“That illegitimate child again. Illegitimate. Illegitimate! Did you even see Lloyd’s face?”
“I did.”
He answered calmly and leaned against the doorway.
“He must have gotten into a fight.”
“Ha!”
“Children cannot grow up without getting hurt at all.”
“You always say that!”
The countess screamed, but he remained silent. Different emotions briefly passed through his empty green eyes.
“Madam.”
“……”
“Where is Ronell Artez?”
His calm voice was strangely frightening.
The countess lifted her chin proudly.
Yes. Of all people, the Artez Count could not pressure her.
Everything started because of this man’s sins.
“Duncan estate.”
At that moment, the count’s face turned completely pale. The countess was shocked.
“Duncan?”
“L-Lord Roenard, w-why—what is the problem—”
“Did you say Duncan?!”
His voice suddenly rose. It was the first time in over ten years of marriage that he had shouted like this.
“Y-yes. Lady Aisila Duncan—”
Bang.
He punched the wall. His fist clenched so tightly his bones stood out.
“Damn it!”
He ran out of the room.
Meanwhile, Ronell blinked inside the huge bed in a huge room.
It was big. Very big.
The room was so large it felt frightening.
She looked desperately at the moonlight through the curtains and tried counting sheep.
It didn’t work.
Because she had fallen asleep earlier in Aisila Duncan’s arms, she couldn’t fall asleep now.
Actually, she didn’t even want to sleep. If she woke up, she would be back in the closet again, staring at the wall.
She would rather stay awake in this dream.
Should I turn on the light? Can I turn it on?
She hesitated, then gathered courage and pulled the string.
Click.
A pale light revealed a clock.
It pointed to 4.
Ronell froze.
Four already? That’s bad. I might oversleep.
…Wait. If this is a dream, why am I worried about oversleeping?
Confused, she buried her face into the pillow.
“I wish this was real.”
Would it be real? Her inner voice laughed coldly.
“Reality.”
That was what Mrs. Aisa had said.
And Ruby—the cat—had hit her arm with its tail, as if telling her to accept reality.
It had hurt.
…Still, she wanted to believe it was a dream.
Ronell carefully looked under the bed. It didn’t feel as dark as before.
She put on the slippers Aisa had given her and tiptoed to the door.
She hesitated, but curiosity won.
When she stepped into the hallway, she froze.
This was not the Artez mansion.
It was huge. Endless doors lined the hallway. It was terrifying.
“What should I do…”
She was scared to meet anyone. Scared to wake someone up. Scared of everything.
Then—
“Is that her?”
A lazy voice suddenly spoke from behind her.
