Chapter 180
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 180
Canna gave my waist one last, tight squeeze before pulling away. Her face was a mess of tears, yet it was a talent in itself to cry so hard and still look so beautiful. I gently wiped her tears away with my thumb.
I was the culprit here. How many people was I going to make cry today? Canna, however, quickly composed herself, her expression shifting to one of concern for me.
“Are you all right now, My Lady?”
I nodded silently. I must have looked convincing enough, because Canna let out a sigh of relief.
“Did the Duchess say something cruel to you, My Lady?”
“If she did, would you go scold my grandmother for me?”
“Of course! Just give the word, and I’ll go find her right now and give her a piece of my mind!”
“And what would you say?”
“I’d tell her that after everything you’ve done for this estate, refusing to treat you as her own granddaughter makes her the most wicked person in the world!” Canna cried out, her voice filled with indignation. She seemed to assume that Lady Agera, like the Duke, had regained her memories and said something horrible to me, refusing to acknowledge me.
Did Canna really think I was the type to be hurt by such words? Even when I faced the Duke, my blood had boiled with anger, but I had never once felt depressed.
Canna stomped her foot, unable to contain her fury. She looked so much like a runner poised at the starting line that I almost burst out laughing.
“No, Canna. On the contrary, she asked me to call her ‘Grandmother.’”
“Is… that so?”
My defense of Lady Agera instantly drained all the fight out of Canna, leaving her looking utterly deflated.
“Then… why did you…” she trailed off. Since I hadn’t offered an explanation, she seemed hesitant to ask.
“Indeed, why was that…?”
It was a question that lingered even after Gabriel’s words had calmed my turbulent emotions. Why had I become so deeply immersed in the story of ‘Evangeline Rohanson’? And why had I felt such profound relief when Gabriel said it didn’t matter who I was—that he was fine with me, no matter what?
“It must be because I cherish you, Canna.”
“My Lady…!”
Canna pouted, thinking I was just changing the subject to avoid explaining. But my answer was a conclusion I had reached after long deliberation.
I hadn’t just possessed Evangeline Rohanson; I had become too deeply intertwined with her. I had grown far too attached to the people connected to this body.
I cherished Canna. I was fond of Pudding and Jelly. I could no longer bring myself to cast Gabriel aside. That was why the secret of Evangeline’s birth had affected me so deeply.
‘Miss Evangeline.’ ‘Lady Evangeline.’ Even though they knew I was a transmigrator, they called me Evangeline—with affection, with respect, and sometimes, with a touch of fear.
And in doing so, I had become bound to her name.
So… I was no longer just a mere transmigrator.
My name is Evangeline Rohanson.
* * *
Evangeline advised Gabriel to get plenty of rest before leaving the room.
The room was now pitch-black, the sun not yet having shown its face. Gabriel wished this night would stretch on forever, allowing him to savor the warmth she had left behind.
He wished morning would never come. If the sun disappeared, he, trapped in the night, could remain in this frozen moment for eternity.
When he tried to move, his hand tingled. His fingers, completely beyond his control, refused to budge. Unable to touch his own lips, Gabriel raised his arm and pressed them firmly against the back of his hand, afraid the cold air would steal away the sensation she had left there.
He could feel his pulse racing wildly against his skin. His heart pounded without pause, and Gabriel realized just how deeply shaken he was. If his lieutenant saw him like this, he would surely tease him, asking if he was a boy experiencing his first kiss.
Gabriel’s face flushed red at the shamelessness of the thought. A kiss? How absurd. He was this shaken, yet all Evangeline had done was perform a formal greeting—a simple gesture of bringing the back of her hand to his lips.
The problem was that Gabriel was a half-cripple, unable to move his own limbs. In such a state, there was only one way for them to exchange a farewell: Evangeline had to bring her hand to his lips herself.
She had pressed the back of her hand firmly against his mouth. His lips had touched her skin. He had kissed Lady Evangeline’s hand.
No matter how he framed it, the reality of the act was overwhelming—violently so.
There was a reason he was so flustered, despite having always kissed the back of her hand in farewell.
First, when Gabriel performed the gesture, he had never actually allowed his lips to touch her skin out of courtesy. Second, this time, it was not at his request, but of Evangeline’s own accord.
It was just a greeting. It was just a greeting, but… it didn’t feel like one to him. The corners of his eyes grew hot with embarrassment.
He had never realized so keenly how thin the skin of one’s lips was. He had always known Evangeline’s body temperature was cold. Her unnaturally pale skin was, without exaggeration, like ice.
He had almost feared their skin would stick together, frozen, and never separate. So when Evangeline quickly withdrew her hand, it had felt strangely abrupt.
Though he had never tasted it, a sweet flavor seemed to linger on his lips. If his lieutenant saw him now, he would accuse his superior of developing a fetish, demand his knightly emblem, and personally escort him to prison.
He could also imagine what Sir Raphaella would say. He would probably ask if Gabriel had finally lost his mind. Recalling the venomous remarks Raphaella would surely unleash, Gabriel decided to stop thinking about him.
Instead, Evangeline filled his thoughts once more.
“My Lady…”
My Lady. Lady Rohanson. Lady Evangeline.
Gabriel uttered the title again—the name he had repeated thousands of times in the silence of his heart. An intense emotion surged from his chest, becoming almost too much to bear.
Even putting the greeting aside, everything he had just experienced was overwhelming. He wondered if he had already died of blood loss in the dungeon, and if this was all just a dream after death.
Perhaps the lady coming to rescue him was merely his own hallucination.
After death, one was said to sleep in the embrace of God. Those cast out by God repeated countless cycles of reincarnation until their sins were washed away. But Gabriel did not believe in God.
Therefore, he never doubted that, after death, he would belong to Evangeline. The thought of even his death being forfeit to her wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. Rather, it filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction.
Her pure white figure still flickered before his eyes. Having seen her even in his dreams, he could now picture her perfectly with his eyes closed.
Gabriel had hovered by her side since she was at her most rational—an existence beyond reason, one that defied the divine authority of God. She, who he once thought possessed no life force, had become a savior to people like him.
She was his faith.
Gabriel worshiped the girl. Yet, he harbored romantic feelings for the object of his worship.
His faith was blasphemous.
His faith was ugly.
His affection was base.
He was dragging down the star he admired, reducing it to something of the earth. He knew he was the one pulling the star down, a consequence of his overflowing emotions.
The being who had been trapped within the mold of ‘Evangeline Rohanson’ was now truly becoming her. Even in the past, whenever she had shown a rare human side, his eyes had been drawn to her.
Gabriel was overjoyed by those fleeting glimpses of human emotion. And wasn't he the one who had witnessed those moments from the closest vantage point?
He had thought he would have no value to Evangeline. But he was wrong. While comforting her, Gabriel had realized that he had become her shackle, and the sheer, overwhelming joy of it had nearly made his heart burst.
If Bishop Marik, the so-called favorite of the Sun Goddess, acted so blindly because of this kind of elation, Gabriel felt he could finally understand her.
“Happy, are we? You must be. Of course you are.”
A sarcastic, mocking voice drifted from the darkness. There had been no sound of a door opening. The situation might have startled anyone else, but the voice was familiar. Gabriel welcomed the visitor warmly.
“Mr. Pudding.”
At Gabriel’s greeting, the dazzling blond boy gritted his teeth and slumped into the chair by the bed—the very spot where Evangeline had just been sitting.
“Where is the lady?”
When Gabriel asked, Pudding answered honestly, though he clearly hated sharing the information.
“She went to bed after talking with Canna.”
Evangeline had dismissed Pudding, so Canna had relayed the news to him instead. Gabriel felt relieved that Evangeline seemed to have cast her worries aside. He was glad that, even in this broken state, he could be of some use to her.
“You did a good job humoring her, for someone in your condition.”
Because they both cherished the same person, Pudding’s train of thought ran parallel to Gabriel’s. Gabriel figured Pudding felt he was finally proving his worth after being rescued.
Pudding scrutinized Gabriel for a long time before grumbling, “She never showed a single crack in her armor in front of me.”
The boy scowled deeply. It was an expression he would never show his master, as he only ever wanted her to see his pretty side. Had his desire to be adored backfired?
His face was a picture of disbelief that a corpse barely clinging to life could be deemed more reliable than him.
“I had no idea Lady Evangeline’s taste ran toward caged birds with broken legs. I chose the wrong body to wear.”
The cat referred to the newcomer in the garden of beasts and red flowers as a caged bird.
“It seems to me you chose quite well,” Gabriel replied, knowing just how deeply Evangeline adored the demon in his beastly form.
Pudding’s spirits instantly lifted, and he preened.
“Well, of course. She always did love cats.”
Gabriel was puzzled by Pudding’s attitude, which suggested he had known Evangeline from before. As far as Gabriel knew, the demon had only appeared after the funeral at the Rohanson mansion.
If so, what did Pudding mean by “always”?
Did he mean he was acquainted with the original ‘Evangeline Rohanson,’ or was he referring to the lady before she ever inhabited this body?
Since the person before him wasn’t Evangeline, Gabriel saw no reason to suppress his curiosity.
“By ‘always,’ do you mean before the lady took on the name of Evangeline Rohanson?”
“Before taking on the name?” Pudding tilted his head, looking confused.
Gabriel hesitated, wondering if his phrasing was appropriate, but spoke carefully. “I wanted to ask if you were acquainted with her from before she inhabited the body of Evangeline Rohanson.”
He was reluctant to mention her death so directly in front of the demon who worshiped her, so he had phrased it carefully.
Once Pudding grasped the meaning, he shook his head.
“Ah, no. I don’t really know the Lady Evangeline of that time.”