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Chapter 121
You Will Be Happy
Ugh—
I groaned, clutching my throbbing head as I sat up.
I remember drinking yesterday… and meeting Johann.
But strangely, Johann was nowhere to be seen.
What did I even do?
I ruffled my tangled hair, trying to recall everything. I’d drunk to gather courage—wanting to confront Johann. But as it turned out, the drink suited me too well, and I kept going until—
“You’re too handsome, it’s annoying.”
“Oh my god.”
What on earth possessed me to say that?!
“Because of Estella.”
“Did you know that woman is the real daughter of the Duke of Libertan?”
“And what about you, Johann—who was it you really wanted to marry?”
I’d said things I’d never have dared to say sober. I buried my face in the pillow again, unable to lift my head.
“So this is why people say you shouldn’t drink.”
You lose the ability to tell what’s okay to say and what isn’t.
What else did I do?
A vague memory surfaced—touching Johann first, saying foolish things—but beyond that, nothing came clearly to mind.
Was that it?
But something told me my mistakes hadn’t ended there.
“Think, Estelle—what nonsense did you spout this time?”
I clutched the pillow and squeezed my head as if forcing my memory out. Then, like a cruel flash, I remembered Johann’s lips meeting mine, his hand pushing me gently down onto the bed.
“Something’s still bothering you, isn’t it? What’s caught in your mind?”
“No… I trust you, Johann.”
“Really? It seems like something still weighs on you. How could I make you trust me completely? Perhaps…”
Even though he wasn’t here, I could almost hear his low, teasing laugh tickling my ear.
“We should consummate soon—otherwise, my wife might start thinking foolish thoughts again.”
My face burned hot.
I could feel his hand trailing along my waist, his lips moving slowly downward, grazing my collarbone with playful intent…
“And… and then what?”
A blush so deep it curled my toes ran through me. I remembered the heat, the embarrassment, the pleasure—and then nothing.
“Don’t tell me—last night—”
I froze and glanced down at myself. My top button was undone, and a few marks lingered where his lips had been, but there was no real pain.
It doesn’t look like we went all the way.
Just below my chest, faint scars caught my eye. And beneath them, I knew, were the ones from the whip, the trampling, the dark and ugly remnants that would never fade.
Did Johann see them?
Johann knew I had been abused. He’d told me he wouldn’t ask about it—to spare me. He only ever said the words I most wanted to hear.
Whether he saw them or not… someday, he’ll know everything.
I closed my eyes tightly.
Maybe even revealing that he knew was Johann’s way of being brave.
Both Johann and I had things we rarely shared. I didn’t know his reasons, but I… I was simply terrified of shattering the fragile peace we’d built.
He knows I was unloved—and still chose to make me his wife.
He said he loved me.
Maybe the fear that he’d abandon me was just a shadow of my own imagination.
Even so, I wanted to be brave like him.
But then, like poison, the memory of the original story came back—mocking my fragile hope.
[I never loved you.]
“No… he said he loves me.”
[As if I’d ever love someone like you. Even if the Libertans didn’t love you, I still wouldn’t have married you.]
“Even if I wasn’t loved, he still calls me his wife.”
Tears welled up without warning. I hated it—the act of crying felt like proof of my weakness.
“Don’t be anxious. Don’t doubt him.”
So I bit my lip hard and stood, defiant, walking to the vanity. In the mirror, a pale woman with tear-streaked cheeks stared back—looking like she might collapse at any moment.
“Trust Johann. You have no reason not to.”
Estelle, you want to be happy too, don’t you?
“You weren’t always honest either.”
I wanted to live. Looking back now, maybe that was because I still had a tiny bit of hope—that if I kept living, I might one day achieve my dream.
To have a loving family. To live happily.
Now, the curse that had plagued my body was gone. The true identity of the one who’d cursed me—Estella—had been exposed. Whoever might be lurking behind her, all the real threats were already gone.
“I’ll be brave too.”
Clenching my fists, I steadied my heart. On the vanity sat the fairy tale book The Beautiful Monster.
“I never finished reading this.”
Now, no matter what ending awaited, I felt ready to face it.
[The woman loved the beautiful monster very much. But at the same time, she found him very strange.]
[“I’ve heard odd rumors about you,” she said. “They say all your former wives have gone missing.”
“That’s true,” said the monster. “They all disappeared, calling me terrible. Will you do the same?”
“I won’t,” said the woman. “I love you.”]
[But as their marriage went on, the woman began to find the monster increasingly suspicious. He never let her see his body, and obsessively forbade her from entering the basement.]
[At last, unable to bear it, the woman gave her husband a sleeping potion and looked at his body. It was covered in the marks of sin—her husband was indeed a monster.]
To be honest, I’d half expected the story to go that way.
But maybe because I empathized with the monster, I found myself growing more anxious the further the woman went to uncover the truth.
[The woman, unable to endure it, found the key and entered the basement. Inside were countless bodies of women she had never seen before. But she understood—they were all the wives who came before her.]
The woman in the story fell to her knees, weeping.
I stared blankly at her face. For someone supposedly filled with sorrow and despair, her face was strangely blank.
Did the woman hate the monster too?
The story was nearly over when a knock came at the door.
“My lady? Are you awake?”
“Yes, Betty. What is it?”
“The master said to give you something once you woke. May I come in?”
“Come in.”
Betty entered and handed me a folded note from Johann. On the front, in playful handwriting, was written:
[To my little drunkard.]
I puffed my cheeks in protest.
It was just that one time!
I was far too sober to deserve that nickname. I opened the note—and inside were warm, gentle words.
[Go to the studio. There’s a gift waiting for you.]
The prison was cold and hard, no matter where you were.
“W-where are you taking me?”
Dragged along by guards, Estella’s voice trembled. After being imprisoned for so long, she was already a wretched sight.
Still, she carried herself with pride, as though she were some unrivaled beauty.
“Has His Holiness summoned me for my release? If that’s the case, I can walk on my own—”
“Enough nonsense. Get in there!”
The guard ignored her and threw her into a dark, unlit cell.
Estella blinked, groping at the stone floor.
So the Holy One didn’t come to save me—then what is this?
Creak—
The door opened again, and two figures were shoved inside. Their faces were filthy, smeared with blood and grime.
Ugh, the smell.
Estella wrinkled her nose and backed away—until the two turned to her, dazed, and spoke in trembling voices.
“S-Stella?”
“Stella… you’re really alive…”
Their faces were a mixture of grief, anger, relief, and despair. And in that instant, Estella realized who they were.
“Mother? Father?”
It was unbelievable.
“Why… how are you both still alive?”
She had known Johann hadn’t executed them—but she never imagined he’d actually keep them alive.
He said he’d make them live as if they were dead…
The Duke and Duchess of Libertan were indeed in pitiful condition, but their limbs were intact.
Her mother, Rosaria, who had just embraced her daughter in disbelief, now glared at her with scornful eyes.
“Why? Were you hoping we wouldn’t be?”
“No, I just— I thought you were dead.”
“Liar! I heard you yourself—you wished we were dead! How could you say that to your mother—”
“Enough, my dear.”
Her father, Damian Libertan, stopped Rosaria from yelling further.
“But Stella… what have you done?!”
His voice wasn’t warm either—there was no joy in seeing his daughter again, only confusion and grief.
Estella blinked, caught off guard.
“What do you mean, what have I done?”
“You pretended to be dead—while still alive! You brainwashed us to think you’d died!”
Damian’s voice rose with fury.
“How could you do that to your parents? Do you have any idea what we went through thinking you were gone? We did everything for you—and you—!”
“That’s why I did it.”
“What?”
“Why are you angry with me?”
Estella looked genuinely offended.
“You said you’d do anything for me. So you offered that woman as my sacrifice. You hurt people for my sake.”
“…”
“I understand you suffered, but shouldn’t you be happy that I’m still alive? Why are you blaming me?”
The duke and duchess stood speechless.
What is she saying?
With Estella’s exposure, the brainwashing spell on them had completely broken. Though their minds were still hazy, they remembered what mattered.
“Stella… do you really mean that?”
“You know what’s worse? You ruined my chance to live perfectly as a saint! Because you couldn’t atone properly, Johann hasn’t fully escaped that fake!”
Tears streamed down Estella’s face—but they weren’t tears of repentance, only self-pity.
Our beloved daughter, Stella.
The one they’d cherished, spoiled, and sacrificed everything for. The angel of House Libertan.
They’d believed that saving her—no matter the cost—was worth it.
Even staining their hands in filth hadn’t seemed difficult then.
But now, the face they once thought beautiful overlapped with the memory of a small, trembling Estelle.
What have we done…?
Rosaria’s chest tightened, and tears fell. Estella scowled at her mother’s weeping.
“So what will you do now? Because you two failed, I’ve been suffering in this prison!”
She was a monster.
“You must have a way out, right? You’re not planning to stay here, are you?”
“Stella.”
“Yes, Mother?”
SLAP!
Rosaria struck her across the face.
“When—when did you become like this? What happened to you? You weren’t like this before!”
“Mother!”
Estella’s face twisted in disbelief and rage. Rosaria clutched her daughter’s shoulders, sobbing.
“Wake up, my dear. It’s not too late to change your heart.”
“Why do you keep blaming me? Why are you all against me?”
“My child, I’m not blaming you. But if you go on like this, you’ll—”
Clap, clap, clap.
A slow, mocking applause echoed through the cell.
Johann stepped forward, his red eyes gleaming coldly.
“What a sight,” he drawled. “Too good to watch alone.”
The Libertan couple turned pale as death.
“D-Duke Blanchet…”
“How does it feel,” Johann sneered, “to finally face the precious daughter you sacrificed everything to protect?”
His crimson gaze glinted with murderous light.
“All that pain you inflicted on the innocent—just to save that.”
