Chapter 57: How Long Can I Keep Hating You?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 57: How Long Can I Keep Hating You?
Blair peeked up at Herdin’s back. He wore a robe, looking as if he had just stepped out of a bath.
He was adding logs to the fireplace. Droplets of water clung to his damp hair, catching the firelight and glistening softly.
Once the logs caught, Herdin turned back toward the bed. Blair quickly squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. It was the only thing she could think to do.
A silent presence approached, stopping by the bed and casting a shadow over her. Soon, the mattress dipped with a familiar weight—the same weight that settled beside her every night as he held her close.
Blair worried he might wake her, but even after a long while, Herdin didn't make a sound.
Peeking her eyes open, she saw him lying perfectly still, his own eyes closed.
His face looked unfamiliar.
He had always held her with an insatiable greed, falling asleep only after she had drifted off from exhaustion and always waking before her.
Seeing him sleep so peacefully felt incredibly foreign. He was here solely for her, with absolutely nothing to gain.
Suddenly, she remembered the night she had lit the fireplace herself to prove her innocence. He had stayed by her side then, too.
He was always like this.
Just when she turned away, determined never to be hurt by his indifference again, he would stride back into her life and shatter her resolve.
He always found the exact moment she needed him most, the exact moment her heart was at its weakest, and slipped right through the cracks.
With a self-deprecating sigh, Blair realized her trembling had finally subsided. She could no longer deny that it was because of the man lying beside her.
He’s someone who might have killed me.
And he’s someone who will leave me again, very soon.
I hate your careless kindness.
I hate myself for wavering, even when I know your kindness is as fleeting as a spring breeze.
When I miraculously went back in time, I was so sure I would never love you again. I was so sure…
But now, I’m starting to feel anxious.
How long… will I be able to keep hating you?
* * *
After the sun had completely set, Wesley slipped out of a side gate of the House of Baldwin.
He scanned his surroundings constantly as he made his way to the main street and hailed a hired carriage. His movements were incredibly cautious.
“To the club,” he ordered.
This was his first outing since the Hunting Competition.
A few days ago, the competition had been cut short when Blair went missing. Ivan, who didn’t know the full story, had simply assumed she’d gotten lost and grumbled about the inconvenience.
While Herdin had been frantically tearing through the forest to find Blair, Wesley had used the distraction to track down and kill the man he’d hired for the kidnapping.
Now, there was no way anyone could prove his involvement.
He had borrowed money from Rachel, but she wouldn’t dare ask for it back unless she wanted to confess her own role in the plot.
Even if Herdin suspected him, he couldn’t punish him on mere suspicion alone.
‘In the end, nothing even happened to that wench Blair. She was rescued safely, so isn’t that good enough?’
As far as he was concerned, it was just a minor incident that had blown over.
The thought brought him immense relief. He felt almost foolish for having spent the last few days cooped up in the mansion, terrified that Herdin might come for him.
Of course, the money he had spent plotting the whole thing was a bit of a waste.
‘If I had used that money as a stake, I could have multiplied it by now…’
As Wesley smacked his lips in regret, the carriage arrived at the club.
‘Whatever. I’ll just win tonight and make it all back.’
Standing before the club, a sudden, baseless confidence washed over him. He felt certain he would walk away a winner tonight.
Brimming with anticipation, Wesley stepped inside.
“Well, look who it is! The great Wesley Baldwin actually missed a few days. What happened?”
“I was almost worried you were sick.”
His usual crowd greeted him with snickers.
After some idle banter, they naturally gathered around a table and started a card game, just as they always did.
Wesley checked his hand as the cards were dealt. His eyes widened.
‘This is a great hand…’
Perhaps it wasn’t just wishful thinking; he might actually win big tonight.
His heart began to pound. Strangely, he felt even more nervous than when he had a terrible hand.
Wesley anxiously drew his final card. The moment he saw it, sheer ecstasy washed over his face.
It was a hand that was practically impossible to lose.
Just as Wesley was trying to calm his racing heart and lay down his cards—
A sudden shadow loomed over him.
“Hello, Wesley.”
Startled by Herdin’s sudden appearance, Wesley’s face drained of all color.
“A dog would sooner give up eating filth than you would give up gambling. Am I right?”
Terrified, Wesley scrambled to his feet to flee, but Herdin wasn't about to let him go.
He grabbed Wesley by the hair and slammed his face into the card table.
“Agh!”
The other club members, horrified by the sheer brutality of the act, scrambled to escape.
Herdin slammed Wesley’s head against the table a couple more times until Wesley finally stopped struggling and went limp.
Leaning over the groaning man, Herdin spoke in a low, chilling voice.
“If you flee the second you see my face, what am I to think?”
“That’s because you’ve been threatening me, accusing me of being the culprit since that day!”
The polite, deferential attitude Wesley had put on during the Hunting Competition was long gone. To Herdin, this raw reaction was far less pathetic than watching a bastard who used to gloat over his childhood misfortunes now bow and scrape before him.
Herdin grabbed Wesley’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet.
“But you are the culprit.”
A cold, blue light flared in Herdin’s eyes. Overwhelmed by his terrifying presence, Wesley flinched instinctively, but only for a second.
“Fuck! Do you have any proof it was me?”
Herdin stared at the shamelessly defiant Wesley, his expression unreadable.
Wesley thrashed against Herdin’s grip, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“If you treat someone who helped you out of goodwill like this—”
“Rachel Seldon.”
The moment the name left Herdin’s lips, Wesley froze. Herdin didn’t miss the opening.
“She spilled everything. Said it was all your doing.”
Wesley’s heart plummeted. At the same time, a burning rage toward Rachel for betraying him flared up.
“Fuck, no! It was… Yes, that bitch planned the whole thing! I was just doing what she told me to!”
“…”
“She’s the one who gave me the money! She said Blair—no, the Duchess—annoyed her, and she wanted to humiliate her!”
“…”
“Think about it! Where would I get the money to pull off something like that?”
Herdin, who had listened to Wesley’s frantic defense in silence, finally let go, tossing his head aside.
“I’ll have to pay a visit to the House of Seldon to find out how much of that is true.”
“…What?”
Wesley, who had been desperately shifting the blame to Rachel, stiffened.
If he was going to the House of Seldon now, that meant…
“You… you haven’t met Rachel yet?”
Herdin smirked coldly at Wesley’s dumbfounded expression.
“This is why you lose all your money at the tables.”
To lose his head over a single bluff and spill everything without even verifying the truth. Not to mention wearing his emotions so plainly on his face.
“You bastard! How dare you trick me—!”
Herdin casually tripped Wesley as he lunged. With a loud crash, Wesley went sprawling across the floor in a pathetic heap.
Herdin looked down at him coldly.
“Why? You laid hands on my woman and tried to deceive me. Did you expect me to play fair?”
“You…!”
“Don’t feel too bad.”
He pulled a small bottle from his inner pocket and tossed it in front of Wesley. The glass shattered, spilling a liquid that released a sweet, cloying scent into the air.
Wesley’s eyes widened in panic.
It was the same drug the kidnapper had tried to force down Blair’s throat.
“There was never a way out for you.”
When Herdin had searched the abandoned house with Wesley, he had found the medicine bottle dropped near the signs of Blair’s struggle. A pristine, brand-new bottle lying in a dusty, dilapidated shack was suspicious enough on its own.
Herdin had ordered an investigation into the drug’s origin. For Ruth, who excelled in such matters, tracking down the buyer was child’s play.
He had baited Wesley despite already knowing he was the mastermind. First, to secure a confession, and second…
‘I saw her heading into the forest with a knight earlier.’
…to seal the fate of Rachel Seldon, who had falsely claimed to have seen the kidnapped Duchess with another man.
Wesley Baldwin had played his part perfectly. Now, the only thing left for him to do was run his mouth.
Which would undoubtedly be annoying.
“Get some sleep.”
Herdin grabbed the back of Wesley’s head and slammed it hard against the table one last time. Wesley’s body instantly went limp.
Herdin tossed the unconscious man like a sack of potatoes to the knights waiting nearby and turned away.
“Throw him in the carriage.”
It was time to hunt down the other mastermind.