WDYEHM 26

Chapter 26

It was something Ellen had once said.

Orte didn’t even remember when, but it must have been at a time when she foolishly had hope again… when she reached out like an idiot.

Back then, Ellen was just as angry as he was now, and he threw harsh words at her.

No… they weren’t just harsh words. They were probably his true feelings.

Orte’s hands trembled slightly.

Not because of pain.

She was still trapped in memories of a past she wanted to escape. She knew the more she struggled, the deeper she would sink—like a swamp pulling her down faster.

So, she tried to do nothing.

But the swamp swallowed her whole and eventually choked her.

“Who do you think you are? Do you even know what this is—how dare you…!”

“Ellen. Calm down. The banquet isn’t over yet.”

“Father. I can’t just let this go. This parasite keeps crawling back up!”

Orte looked at the Duke of Weekend.

He didn’t mention the fact that she was being accused.

He simply didn’t care.

Clef hurried over.

“What is going on? Ellen, what is this disturbance?”

“Brother, I can’t stand it. I can’t tolerate that parasite acting up. She stole my brooch and is denying it!”

“Ellen, calm down first. This can be handled after the banquet.”

The Duke of Weekend wasn’t the only one who didn’t care that Orte was being accused.

Clef didn’t care either.

‘Really… nothing ever changes.’

If she could, Orte wanted to erase her past self.

She wanted to burn away the version of herself who tried so hard to be loved by these people.

She felt wronged.

Why did she return to being 13?

Why couldn’t she go back even further—before she met them?

Before anyone knew she had ever tried to earn their love.

“Then right now…!”

“Go ahead.”

Orte looked at the people staring at her.

Then she spoke in a dry voice.

“Kill me.”

She had said it many times before.

“Just kill me.”

It wouldn’t be difficult for them.

“…What?”

The one who reacted was the Duke of Weekend.

He, who had been calmly stopping Ellen, stepped forward.

“Did you just say… we should kill you?”

“Yes.”

Orte answered firmly.

The Duke of Weekend walked toward her.

Slap—!

A sharp pain struck her cheek, and Orte fell to the ground.

Holding her cheek, she lifted her head and looked at him without any expression.

He had the face she feared the most.

The same face from when Yvonne was revealed to be real… and Orte was revealed to be fake.

A face filled with anger and betrayal.

“Your life… is not yours alone.”

At those words, Orte muttered,

“…It belongs to my mother, right?”

She was born in exchange for her mother’s life.

The moment she said it out loud, she realized something.

The Duke of Weekend hated her.

But he still brought her from the temple and raised her as the only daughter of the family.

He disliked her.

But he never scolded or picked on her.

Even his indifference once felt like kindness.

She had always wondered—

Why does Father hate me, yet still give me everything?

So she had hope.

She thought… maybe he actually loved her.

Maybe he cared deeply, but avoided her because she reminded him of his dead lover.

But that wasn’t true.

Orte let out a hollow laugh.

‘…I made the same mistake again.’

Without realizing it, she had hoped again.

Even after dying three times because of them.

“Ha… haha…”

She laughed.

“…Father. The banquet is still ongoing…”

Then she stood up.

Her arms still hadn’t fully healed. Her wrists hurt from being grabbed all day.

There wasn’t a single place that didn’t hurt.

But Orte stood firmly.

At least right now, she didn’t want to show any weakness.

“Please forgive me, Duke.”

She looked at the Duke of Weekend.

Then at Clef.

Then at Ellen.

“Young Master, Young Lord. I sincerely apologize to both of you. I foolishly… had expectations again.”

There was no word more familiar to her than “expectation.”

Every moment she spent with them was filled with it.

Now, even disappointment and despair were gone.

Only endless emptiness remained.

“Hey, parasite. Are you mocking us right now? What did you even do right?”

“No. I’m sincere.”

She truly was.

If cutting open her chest and showing her heart could prove it, she would do it without hesitation.

“And thank you, Duke. Because of what you said, I truly have no expectations anymore.”

“Orte.”

The Duke of Weekend’s brow tightened.

“I think I finally understand why you didn’t kill me back then.”

It wasn’t just because she tried to poison Yvonne.

“I died simply because I was fake.”

That incident was just an excuse to kill her.

They were looking at someone else through her.

That was why the Duke brought her from the temple and kept her in the mansion.

Even though he hated her, he didn’t kill her—

Because he believed her life belonged to the Saintess.

“Don’t worry.”

Orte smiled brightly.

Truly brightly.

“Even if you kill me now… I won’t be disappointed anymore.”

***

In the dark office of the Duke of Weekend,

The flowers he carefully watered every day had all lost their petals—

All except one.

Even though there was no wind, the flower trembled.

Then—

Softly,

All the petals fell at once.

And then—

A quiet snap.

As if it had given everything it had, the stem broke without regret.

It could no longer be saved.

Even its last chance was gone.

But no one noticed.

The withered flower quietly met its end… unseen by anyone.

***

Orte had spent a lot of time in the library, reading many books.

One day, she became curious.

Which shelf had the most dust?

So she searched every corner.

Then she noticed a book sticking out slightly from the bottom shelf.

Curious, she bent down and pulled it out.

She brushed off the thick dust with her palm.

There was no title.

It was just plain parchment.

As she tried to open the first page, she noticed the back pages were crumpled, so she flipped there instead.

“This is…”

It was a family registry.

Benjamin Weekend.

His two sons—

Clef Weekend.

Ellen Weekend.

That was it.

It was empty.

The Duke of Weekend had never even registered Orte as part of the family.

Orte traced Ellen’s name with her fingertip.

Then she looked at it calmly.

She closed the book and placed it back where it was.

Then she pushed it deeper—

Somewhere no one would touch or notice.

Strangely… she felt nothing.

To check, she placed her hand over her heart.

It was calm.

She truly felt nothing.

“…Ah.”

Orte realized something.

“I’ve seen this before.”

She didn’t know if it was her first life, second, or third.

But she was sure.

She had seen this before.

She just didn’t believe it.

So she buried it in her memory.

Because she didn’t want to think about it.

Later, another name would be added next to Ellen’s.

Yvonne Weekend.

That happened less than a month after Yvonne appeared.

Orte had spent 12 years trying to be loved.

Yet she wasn’t even registered as family.

But Yvonne—

In just one month, she became family and was added to the registry.

“Really…”

Orte murmured softly.

“I was pitiful.”

For the first time,

Orte felt sorry for herself.

Not stupid.

Not foolish.

Just… pitiful.

That no one had ever recognized such a miserable child—

That made her feel a little sad.

Just a little.

And that was all.