Chapter 123

Blake returned to the Seymour mansion.

Grace ran straight to the entrance. Blake, who was taking off his coat with the servant’s help, saw his sister rushing at him, out of breath. Grace grabbed him by the collar.

“Where have you been all this time?”
“Sis, let go.”
“Where were you while I was being humiliated by that woman? Where were you?”
“……”
“Blake!”
“Let go, sis.”

He pulled her hand away by force. Blake’s sunken eyes swept around the mansion.

The house looked exactly the same as when he had left.

The furniture in the hall, even the scratches they made playing around more than ten years ago, were still there. Yet, the air felt heavy. The servants’ faces were dark, nervous about their employer’s bad mood, afraid of when the next storm would strike—just like before Grace left the mansion.

Grace, pushed back by his strength, panted angrily.

“You’re ignoring me too? Just because I can’t use magic properly anymore, you’re laughing at me?”
“Sis.”
“You’re ignoring me too, aren’t you? If I could just break this curse, do you think I’d sit back and take it? I would… I would…!”

Blake spoke quietly.

“I really thought you were the one being wronged, sis. I believed it… because I was afraid.”

“What?”
“I was so scared, I let myself believe it.”

When they were young, Blake had been afraid of Grace’s anger. If Grace screamed even once, the whole house was thrown into chaos. That was the same when their mother was alive, and even worse after she died. The Marquis of Seymour, their father, had been frightened ever since Grace once collapsed while raging. After that, he let his daughter control him. Blake was the same.

He had wanted Florence to believe him. “If you really feel sorry for me, don’t tell anyone you saw me today. Then I’ll believe you.”

But when Father pressed him for answers, Blake didn’t have the courage to lie. In the end, he chose to run away. He picked work that wasn’t even his and left on trips. He shut his ears to the rumors from Redamas.

She said she’d “believe him,” not that she forgave him.

Still, he had to do something. Doing nothing was worse. He avoided Father, didn’t return to Redamas, and only after days passed did Blake realize—

Florence was not Florence.

The Florence who had screamed “Don’t touch me!” was the child from the past. The girl who had been terrified of her family’s threats, who begged to be included, who cried for affection no matter how much she was pushed away. Back then, she seemed so annoying and shameless that Blake wished she would just die, so Grace would stop her tantrums.

But the “Florence” who had smiled gently at him later—she was different. They were not the same.

Only Blake had been too stupid to see it.

He had eyes, but saw nothing. His father and Grace had known all along.

Blake trembled with betrayal. It wasn’t their fault that he had been stupid, but—at least they could have told him. If they hadn’t spoken as if it were some chance to correct past mistakes, maybe Blake wouldn’t have…

But the past couldn’t be changed.

Whatever the reason, however much he feared Grace, however much the family atmosphere made him that way—it wasn’t an excuse. Growing up, Blake had truly hated Florence. He had spoken cruelly to her, hurting her on his own, not because Father or Grace told him to, but because he chose to.

And yet, once he realized what he had done, he wanted to apologize.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for hurting you when you did nothing wrong.”

That was what he wanted to say.

“Afraid? So now you’re saying everything is my fault?” Grace snapped.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You hated her too! You said she was creepy, stubborn, disgusting!”
“……”
“Don’t act like you’re better than me, Blake. You’re the same. What makes you different?”
“At least you admit you did wrong, sis.”
“What?”
“It’s good you know what you did was bad. I thought you didn’t even know that much.”

Blake’s tone was bitter.

“I never did anything wrong. What are you accusing me of?” Grace shouted.

To her, everything was Florence’s fault. That girl had turned her back on them just because she felt ignored. Yes, Grace had bullied her a little when they were kids, yes she told her she didn’t like her—but what was so wrong with that?

She hadn’t beaten her, hadn’t starved her, hadn’t thrown her out of the house.

Their father had raised Florence well, fed her, gave her tutors, dressed her in fine clothes so she wouldn’t be embarrassed in public. And yet that girl still complained, still cried, still said it wasn’t enough.

And then, ungrateful, she held a grudge, took the help of a man who liked her, and repaid kindness with betrayal.

“That bastard Enoch Hains… he needs to die too.”

How dare he not appreciate the Seymour family for raising him?

Grace spat, “If the Seymour family hadn’t taken him in, he would have died in the streets like a beggar. We treated him kindly, and he dares to bite the hand that fed him?”

Blake answered calmly.

“Enoch Hains would’ve survived without us. He was already a spirit user back then.”

“You’re talking back to me now?”
“If something’s wrong, I’ll say it’s wrong.”
“Blake!”
“No one ever talked back to you, sis. That’s why things are like this now.”

For the first time, Blake strongly argued against Grace.

Grace was stunned. “Did he… just talk back to me?”

It felt unbearably unfair.

“I just said I didn’t like her, that’s all. What did I do wrong?”

But for that alone, the whole world turned against her. Everyone hated her, pointed fingers at her.

“The maid’s mistakes are the maid’s mistakes. Why do I have to take the blame? People make mistakes like that all the time. I never cheated after I was married—so why should I suffer all this shame?”

A divorce? They wanted her divorced?

“So now I can’t see my son anymore?”

It was unfair. It was unbearable. She wanted to overturn it all, but she had no power.

While Grace was panting in frustration, the Marquis of Seymour walked down the hallway. He saw Blake and said:

“Finally, you’ve returned, Blake.”
“Father.”
“The situation is bad. The Magic Society demands your attendance. You can’t use magic for now, but you’ll tell them it will be resolved soon.”
“……”
“And we must send a protest to the Ingram family. This divorce is unjust. Grace has committed no wrongdoing since her marriage. It cannot stand.”

Though he spoke toward Blake, his words were all meant for Grace. He pulled Blake aside, lowering his voice.

“We need to go to the bank.”
“……”
“All funds are frozen. I tell them it’s just a misunderstanding, that it will soon be resolved, but they won’t listen. Also, find Enoch Hains.”
“What about him?”
“The wizard traveling with him holds the Seymour family heirloom.”
“……”
“Some nobody dares to keep the heirloom meant for you and your children.”

Blake let out a small laugh.

Father had always openly favored Grace. Yet she was always starved for recognition and affection. And this was why.

Because even with all his love for her, he never intended to give her the family heirloom.

Not even a thought crossed his mind.

He had always assumed Blake would inherit.

Grace longed for the Seymour family’s heirloom staff, the one passed down from their grandmother. Blake knew it well. And Father ignored her desire completely.