WDYEHM 18

Chapter 18

Orte opened her eyes.

It was deep in the early dawn, but her mind was clear. She blinked while staring blankly at the ceiling, then slowly sat up.

Faint moonlight came in through the window and fell over her face.

Because of that, even though the room was dark, her expression could not be hidden.

Orte’s eyes had no life in them, and her face was so pale it almost looked blue.

Since her fourth life began, Orte had dreamed of many things from the past. Most of them were vague and unclear, and when she woke up, only an unpleasant feeling remained.

But this dream was different.

It was clear from beginning to end.

Why this memory…

Orte’s lips trembled slightly.

She couldn’t understand why she had this dream today, or why she remembered everything so clearly.

She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and brushed back her hair. Then her gaze moved outside the window, toward the entrance of the garden.

It was only after a long time living in the Weekend Duke family that Orte realized that on the Saint’s memorial day, most of the servants stayed in their rooms.

That was because the three most powerful people in the family became extremely sensitive.

After her seventh birthday, Orte always stayed quietly in her room whenever the memorial day came.

But as she stared at the garden entrance now, a sudden impulse rose inside her—just like when she was seven years old in that dream.

Orte stood up and headed toward the garden without even putting on her slippers.

It was still deep night, far from sunrise, so she walked only with the faint light of the moon.

When she stepped into the garden, the grass tickled her feet.

She stopped at the same place where seven-year-old Orte had once spoken with a bright, hopeful face.

In front of her, that young Orte appeared.

Just like in her memory, her cheeks were slightly red, and she spoke happily.

Orte looked down at her past self with a cold expression.

“Mother, today is my first birthday spent with my family.”

“Stupid and foolish Orte.”

“Mother, I wish you were here too. I’m always grateful to you—for giving me this world and a family.”

“No one loves you.”

The seven-year-old Orte, unable to hear her voice, smiled brightly.

“Mother, I think today will be the happiest birthday of my life.”

“…There will never be a happy birthday in your life.”

Not until the moment you die.

At that moment, the seven-year-old Orte looked up at her.

Their eyes met.

But Orte showed no reaction as she looked into those bright, hopeful eyes.

The young Orte tilted her head slightly, then smiled again.

The blurry image disappeared, and Orte touched her own cold face.

Her face was wet with tears.

Orte felt sad.

She hated the people who had destroyed and crushed her shining eyes again and again.

At the same time, she pitied herself.

“In your future, there will not be even a single moment of happiness.”

Orte spoke to her younger self, who was no longer there.

“You tried so hard, and even after dying, they still didn’t love you at all.”

Even though she knew her words would never reach her, Orte kept speaking.

“So don’t make useless efforts.”

Don’t love the people who trampled on your effort and your feelings. Don’t do it.

“Live your own life.”

I can’t do it now, but you can.

Forget all of them. Don’t expect love from them. Live like that.

***

Cliff lifted his eyes from the documents.

Only after blinking his tired eyes did he realize he had stayed up all night. The familiar exhaustion of not sleeping weighed down his body.

For the past few days, he hadn’t been able to sleep properly. Cliff knew the reason well, so he didn’t try to fix it.

He raised his head and looked outside.

It was still dark.

Cliff put down the documents and left his room, walking through the quiet hallway.

Soon, he left the mansion and headed toward the garden.

But as he approached, he frowned at the noise coming from there.

“Why are you here?”

It was Ellen and Orte.

When Cliff saw Orte, he let out a small breath without realizing it. Then he felt a burning heat rising from deep inside his chest.

“Answer me. If you have any shame, shouldn’t you stay away from this place?”

“Ellen.”

“Brother?”

Ellen, just like Cliff, looked tired as he pushed Orte with his words.

When Ellen’s attention turned to Cliff, Orte twisted her hand and slipped out of his grip.

Ellen quickly tried to grab her again, but she moved slightly and avoided him faster.

“Just say it.”

Orte spoke calmly.

“You…”

Ellen’s voice trembled.

“What right do you have to be here? Say that you’ll never come here again.”

As the Saint’s memorial day approached, Ellen hadn’t been able to sleep properly either. Because of that, he was even more sensitive, and he had no intention of letting Orte go easily.

“Say it right now!”

Orte turned her gaze to Cliff.

“Do you think the same, Young Master?”

Cliff looked at Orte.

Then he thought—

She had changed.

He had started thinking this only a few months ago.

Before, Orte used to look at them with faint hope in her eyes, wanting their affection.

She tried hard to please them, watched their reactions, and wanted their attention. It was so obvious that Cliff didn’t even bother looking at her.

But after the Duke of Weekend’s birthday, Orte changed.

She no longer tried to please them, didn’t watch their reactions, and didn’t seek their attention.

And now, she came to the garden—something she had never done before—on the Saint’s memorial day.

Cliff felt confused.

After hearing what Ellen said about the purification a few days ago, his thoughts had become even more complicated.

“You should have seen it, Brother. Something… something felt strange.”

“Why did you come here?”

Instead of answering Orte’s question, Cliff asked his own.

Both Orte and Ellen looked at him in surprise.

Orte opened her eyes slightly wider, then answered,

“I just… wanted to come.”

Seeing her emotionless face, Cliff clenched his teeth.

“Do you feel no guilt at all? At least the kind a human should feel.”

Guilt.

Orte repeated the word silently.

Long ago, she might have felt something like that.

But as time passed, she began to hate the Saint instead.

Because the Saint died, and because of that, they hated her.

Orte had never been told clearly how she was born or how the Saint died. She only knew that the Saint chose the child instead of herself and died during childbirth.

Some people might think she was strange.

But from the moment she was born, she had been hated by everyone because of a mother she had never even met.

If I had been the real one, would I have hated the Saint less?

And on top of that—

Orte was fake.

For some unknown reason, she had been switched with the real one, and even though it wasn’t her fault, she suffered because of it.

And ironically, the real one received everyone’s love the moment they appeared.

When Orte found out she was fake, she didn’t feel shocked.

Instead, a deeper sense of unfairness consumed her.

That feeling had already faded and worn away with time.

Instead of reacting to Cliff’s words, Orte slowly nodded.

“I’ll do as you say, Young Master.”

Her messy hair partly covered her face, but it was clear she was completely expressionless.

“I won’t come here again. If I break this promise, I’ll pay with my life.”

At those words, both Ellen and Cliff’s faces turned pale.

Seeing that, Orte almost let out a hollow laugh.

She turned around and left the garden, leaving them behind.

Dawn was breaking.

With the rising sun behind her, Orte walked while looking at her own shadow.