Chapter 9
“Don’t tell me… you’re thinking of summoning something like the Demon King of Black Flame now? Aren’t you a few years too late for that?”
“That’s not it.”
“Shame. I actually gave it a serious try back in the day. I even remember the chant. ‘O you darker than blood, o you blacker than night…’”
“Ah, please stop…”
Even in Honwood, dark magic was no longer taken all that seriously.
“Anyway, since it’s for Ophelia, I’ll try to get the most proper copy I can find. This is Honwood—finding that kind of book isn’t hard.”
“Please get it as quickly as possible. I’ll be back in a few days.”
Even if I managed to get a genuine book, there was no telling if I had the talent or intuition to understand dark magic. But right now, I had to clutch at straws. I didn’t have much time.
After bidding Mr. Simon farewell and leaving the bookstore, I planned to return home.
Aside from breaking the curse, there was one more thing I had to do—restore the broken romance to its original course.
No matter how objectively I looked at it, I couldn’t deny that the huge deviation from the original story was largely my fault. There was no other cause for such a variable.
So if I removed myself from the background—from the Monahan estate—wouldn’t things return to their original state, like a body healing itself once a foreign substance is removed?
Clements might have fussed over a stray chick for a single evening, but by morning, he’d just think, “Oh, it ran away. Went back where it belongs.” And then forget all about it.
Bella, seeing my note, would know I was safe somewhere, and she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else but her precious guest who had come to the house.
Yes, some inexplicable instinct might still drive her to want to harm him, and her brother might keep spouting nonsense about seducing him somehow—but by now, Bella had to realize that those urges weren’t her own will.
And if I really was needed? Then I could sneak back to the count’s house at night! The night gatekeeper, Mr. Perot, would surely let me in. Whatever the case, in this cursed chick body, I was no help to anyone.
For now, I’d move only at night while searching for a way to break the curse, and stay holed up safely at home during the day.
It was a good plan. A good plan. But then—
“Honey, our Ophelia hasn’t been around much lately. She hasn’t been coming home often… surely nothing’s happened to her, right?”
Ophelia—who, in fact, had indeed had quite a lot happen to her—froze on the doorstep as she overheard her parents’ voices.
The Baron Leora household had fallen on hard times, selling off all their property until only the crumbling old estate remained. And from that crumbling house, their conversation carried all too clearly from the bedroom near the garden.
I had been about to stride in boldly, prepared with an elaborate excuse like, “Mother, Father, I’m home—but don’t ask anything just yet!” but those words vanished from my throat.
“What nonsense. Since she was little, that child has always been so dependable. She’s far more trustworthy than we are.”
Ugh.
“But still… she’s only just twenty. What if that sharp and temperamental count catches her in something…?”
“Calm yourself. Hasn’t Ophelia stopped crying altogether since that day, back when she was twelve, when she suddenly locked herself in her room in tears? Since then, she’s only burned with determination to protect the Monahan young lady.”
“Imagine how heavy that burden must have been for a little girl. It breaks my heart that she’s never once acted like a child since then. If only I had been more capable as a baron…”
“Thomas.”
“Sob… If anything were to happen to our child… I don’t think I could bear it, Evangelin…”
“Don’t worry, Tom. Don’t worry. Oh, honestly—you’re a grown man, how can you cry so much?”
After that came the sound of Father sniffling, Mother’s soft murmurs to soothe him, and then silence as the light went out.
Oh, dear.
Father, who had inherited the Leora title, was a man of tears and weak constitution. Mother must have barely calmed him to sleep. If I barged in now and explained everything, he might burst into sobs and collapse altogether.
“…Ha.”
I slumped against the wisteria vine just budding into bloom. Time was running out—the sky was beginning to pale. I had to choose now: return to the count’s estate or go inside this house.
When I buried my tiny face into my palms, my short-cropped hair spilled forward.
Stupid me. If only I hadn’t made that wrong decision in the forest. If only I hadn’t been so greedy for those useless herbs. None of this disaster would’ve happened…
…
My real parents were in Korea. I hadn’t seen them in ages, ever since I was suddenly dropped into this world, but truthfully, I didn’t miss them that much. I assumed they were fine on their own.
They had cut me loose the moment I became an adult. “Now that you’re grown, you should handle things yourself,” they said, giving me a tiny room near the university.
While I kept filing leaves of absence and scraping by with part-time jobs, my younger brother—two years my junior—was showered with tuition and allowance whenever he asked.
So I was sure they would be fine even without me. If it had been my brother who vanished, that would’ve been a problem—but me? They could manage.
But this baron couple of the crumbling Leora house…
They were Ophelia Leora’s real parents. The ones who had supported me for eight years, no matter what.
At first, I had thought they were no different from my original parents—after all, they had sent a twelve-year-old to serve as another family’s maid.
But over time, it became clear. They weren’t heartless; they were simply helpless. They needed even their child’s small hands just to keep going. They had tried every way possible to make money from their noble title, but it was never enough—the expenses of maintaining the estate and their rank swallowed everything.
And in this world, where bloodline meant everything, abandoning their noble name was impossible. Their family had history—they couldn’t face their ancestors if they threw it away.
It wasn’t unusual for children of ruined noble houses to work as maids or squires. What was unusual was that these parents felt so guilty about it. Normally, nobles would just shrug and say, “We sent you somewhere warm and well-fed, what’s the problem?”
Above all, the words, “She’s only just twenty…” struck too close to home.
With a long sigh, I stood up quietly, brushing off my cloak. Time for work.
Once again, I’d be heading into the storm of the Monahan estate—still a cursed chick. Please, let that storm’s name be love.
Yes, think positive. Clements treated me kindly, but since I ran away, he surely wouldn’t cling to me anymore. If I just stayed out of sight for a day or two, he’d forget me completely.
…Right?
She’s late.
For the third time, Bellarusia Leunis Monahan checked her watch and snapped it shut irritably.
So aggravating. Truly aggravating.
Ever since eight years ago, when their paths first crossed, that child had been an annoyance—whether by her side or, increasingly, by her absence.
Not worth worrying about.
Because this wasn’t new. That girl was always like this.
Send her to the market for a simple errand, and she wouldn’t return for ages, making Bella furious. Then she’d finally come back, arms full of useless snacks, grinning like a fool.
“Sorry. Since I said I was going to the market, everyone kept asking me to get things for them. Did you worry, Bella?”
With those already round eyes opened wide, her face looked twice as idiotic.
Worry? What a joke. To cover her own fault with such a saccharine word.
“Worry? Hardly. I was angry. You should’ve at least sent me a message if you were going to be late!”
“Sorry…”
Then those big, round eyes would droop pathetically at the corners. Obviously meant to provoke sympathy. Bella stiffened her expression even more.
“But instead…!”
At that face, sparks flickered in Bella’s golden eyes. Everything that brushed past those huge pupils left a lingering trail. Pathetic. Vile.
“But instead, I bought a ton of food we can eat together! It’s so good! A new pie shop opened along the boulevard—their specialty is lemon cream pie. Honestly, it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted, in this life or the last.”
That grating voice made Bella shudder with disgust every time Ophelia chirped beside her.
“Don’t. Talk.”
“Talk?”
That’s it.
I have to silence that babbling mouth.
Even with clumsy hands covering her lips, those wide eyes popped open again. Then that silly, clueless smile. Then that head bobbing in instant agreement.
“…!”
And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, came a hug—just like when they had first met.
How she hated it. From the very beginning, always the same. Hated, hated, hated Ophelia Leora.
So there was no reason to wait anymore. No value in waiting. She felt like an idiot, standing at the gate just to catch sight of that silly figure trudging home. Did Ophelia even know what Bella had endured to be here for her?
