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Chapter 37
“It might be even more painful to love you, Lord Caron. In all the tragedies we read about in the culture lessons, everything started because of love.”
Not just in literature, but in the kingdom’s legends and even the empire’s history of the royal family, love’s destructive power was always present.
A noblewoman fell in love with a dragon and died giving birth to its child. In his grief, the dragon willingly offered his own heart to the humans, so that the woman’s descendants could continue the imperial line.
El had only learned and used the word love for the first time after coming to this mansion.
To her, love was something terrifying. Something that would ultimately destroy both sides.
Because it was a feeling with an end, El wanted to deny that she held love for Caron.
She didn’t want to feel hurt by him, nor to express her frustrations with rebellious words like she had just done.
She wanted to remain useful to him forever instead.
“What makes you so anxious, El?”
Caron still kept his eyes lowered, murmuring softly.
El seized the chance, tightening the grip on their entwined hands and pulling them up to her chest—just like knights pledging loyalty.
“I want to be someone useful. Please allow me to remain that way.”
“I only want to show you my best side so you’ll think kindly of me, but you… you insist on dragging the truth out of me.”
“Then tell me. Why do you keep me at your side? Why do you say you need my love?”
“To spite them.”
“…To spite them?”
Was he talking about Lady Asella? El’s brow furrowed slightly. Could the Duke really be that petty?
Would he provoke Asella’s jealousy, only to send her off in a political marriage to another house? That would be far too cruel.
Was this what it meant—that someone who fell in love could become more beautiful than a god and yet more merciless than a devil?
“Exactly that, El. Just by being with me, you drive some of them mad with pain.”
“……”
“And the more they rage, the more grateful I am. I am waiting for a reason—an excuse—to crush their throats.”
El pressed her lips together. It hurt. The look in his downcast eyes, and the wound hidden inside them—it was unbearably painful.
Whose face are you remembering as you look so wounded? She wanted to ask.
But did she have the right to ask about his life? El gave a bitter smile.
“Does it have to be me?”
“I hadn’t planned to use this method at all, but the day I first saw you in the forest, a clever idea came to me.”
“…I want to be of use to you in a way no one else can replace.”
“You already are. This is something only you can do.”
Why? Why me?
El’s bottled-up anxieties and questions burst forth. She had always wondered—why did he take her in?
It wasn’t simply pity. He had given her far too much for that.
It wasn’t because he harbored feelings for her either. He was surrounded by countless beautiful, graceful, intelligent people.
There were strong women everywhere who could aid him in his great undertakings.
So she always circled back to the same question:
What use am I to him?
“Hah… haha.”
“El?”
“Lord Caron, just give me commands. When you look at me with those eyes, with that beautiful face, lowly things like me forget our place.”
“El. You are not lowly. And people don’t have some ‘assigned place.’”
“Who knows.”
El gazed quietly at the hands they held together.
How could Lady Asella possibly have rejected a man like this?
A man like a wolf of the snowy mountains, who could tear out someone’s throat—yet before her, he behaved like a tame house cat.
Excessively alluring, strong, and elegant.
Without realizing it, El squeezed his hand tighter.
“Lord Caron.”
“Yes?”
Caron looked at her with a deliberately sorrowful expression.
El no longer wanted to see that look in his eyes.
If he ever looked at Lady Asella with those same eyes, her insides would twist with jealousy.
No, even now, it felt like someone was clutching her chest, suffocating her.
“I am human too.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t seem like you do. If you treat me this way, I’ll end up hurting you. And I don’t want to hurt my benefactor.”
“You’ll have no choice but to hurt me?”
“Like this.”
With a blank face, as though pressing down something heavy, El lightly bit Caron’s fingertips where their hands were joined.
“……”
For once, Caron’s eyes widened in rare shock. His hand flinched.
El didn’t look away. Her gaze alone revealed the raw desire to consume him whole.
Her soft lips slid from his fingertip, to his knuckle, then across the back of his hand.
“My feelings for you are neither pure nor innocent. So you should be careful, Lord Caron.”
“……”
Her lips left him too easily. Letting go of his hand, El spoke flatly as she slipped down from the dining table.
“That’s the end of my meal. I’ll go upstairs first.”
Left alone in the wrecked dining room, Caron gave a hollow laugh, pressing his forehead with one hand.
“And just who is supposed to be careful of whom?”
His gaze lingered for a long time on the seat where El had been sitting.
“Milady.”
“You shouldn’t have lessons today, Ena.”
El groggily sat up, rubbing her head. A vicious headache. Her mind felt hazy.
Since overhearing the maids’ conversation in the kitchen, she hadn’t been able to calm her heart for even a moment.
It was like being struck by a huge wave and then helplessly dragged into the current.
“I heard you’re going out with the master today.”
“…Yes. If it’s Lord Caron’s will, I must prepare.”
“Shall I tell him you’re unwell and cannot attend?”
“No. How could I do that? Help me get ready, Ena.”
El tried to lift the corners of her mouth into a faint smile, but it quickly fell away again.
Ena carefully assisted her with the preparations, watching her mood.
Lately, her lady had been strange. Vacant, moving through lessons like a puppet under someone’s control.
And yet, when lessons ended, she would stay up all night reviewing and reviewing again until exhaustion.
Her body couldn’t endure it.
Morning swordsmanship, midday tutoring and cultural lessons, afternoon etiquette and dance, then nighttime transcription.
Every single day was packed without pause.
And when, by chance, a day of rest appeared, El would collapse into bed and sleep as if dead—catching up on all the missing rest.
“Milady, it’s done.”
Ena placed the final touch—a pair of blue earrings—on El’s ears.
“…Ena.”
El stared at her reflection in the mirror, then spoke slowly. Her voice was hoarse with weariness.
“Yes, Milady?”
“This appearance…”
“……?”
El pointed at the mirror with her fingertip. Ena followed her gaze to the finely adorned El in the glass.
“Do I look like El Orphné to you?”
“What do you mean—”
“Or do I look like someone who’s stolen another’s place?”
“M-Milady!”
Horrified, Ena rushed to cover the mirror with her hands.
“Don’t think like that!”
“Heh… I shouldn’t have said that to you.”
El let out a small laugh and rose to her feet.
“Then I’ll be going, Ena.”
Even after El left the room, Ena stood frozen in place for a long time.
Her lady was unstable these days—like she could shatter at any moment. And that terrified Ena.
The truth was, Ena herself wasn’t certain.
The master’s orders to her had been simple: report El’s every action, and make sure she grew attached enough to the mansion that she wouldn’t want to leave. Nothing more.
What would become of her lady—Ena had no idea.
Perhaps the rumors in the mansion were true.
That the master had deliberately brought in a woman to take Asella Dellus’s place in facing danger.
“No… Could it be… the master really…”
(To be continued…)
