Chapter 55
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 55
Freed from the need to match a young child's pace, their steps quickened significantly.
Leaning against the butler's chest, Ryder covered his mouth as he coughed, then spoke up to break the silence. He had been taught that it was a superior's duty to provide subordinates with appropriate topics of conversation.
"About Lady Rohanson… Are all noble ladies like that?"
Naturally, the person he had just met was foremost on his mind. Lady Rohanson was truly bizarre. Every detail, from a single strand of hair to the tip of an eyelash, was so excessively and exquisitely perfect that it gave one goosebumps.
Her delicacy was comparable to the transparent glass angel ornament in Ryder's room. This woman, who seemed as hard and fragile as blown glass, had greeted him with such elegance.
"Do I have to become like that, too?"
Her demeanor was flawless. Every movement, down to the precise angle of her fingertips, seemed consciously calculated. Ryder was deeply impressed by her perfect execution of a greeting straight out of an etiquette manual.
"…I wonder," Lak trailed off.
Although Lak had spent his entire life serving the marquisate and had met many nobles, he had never encountered anyone like Evangeline. Having seen all sorts of aristocrats, he knew at a glance that she was not normal. But Ryder, who had never had the chance to interact with other noble children, was different.
Typically, children of noble families socialized with their peers from an early age, but Ryder had been denied that opportunity.
Though the boy might not remember it, when Ryder was much younger, the Marchioness had invited the children of a Countess she often associated with. It had been a natural attempt to find him a friend his own age.
However, a problem arose. The Countess's children told Ryder that his "curse was contagious."
It was obvious from whom those ignorant children had heard such a thing. The Marchioness had scolded them harshly and immediately cut ties with the Countess.
The Countess's reaction had been appalling. In her hysterics, she’d spat out all manner of unspeakable insults, but her point boiled down to this: she had graciously sent her own children to play with a boy abandoned and cursed by God, so how dare the Marchioness ignore that goodwill and get angry?
Since then, visitors to the marquis's estate had dwindled to almost none. As Ryder's health deteriorated, they stopped receiving guests altogether, making Evangeline Rohanson the first visitor in a staggering three years.
"You do not need to become like that, Young Master."
It's not like you'll live long enough to reach her age, anyway, Lak swallowed the unspoken words.
Yet, a sliver of dread crept into him. Rumor had it that Evangeline Rohanson had also been cursed with a frail body that holy water couldn't cure. And yet, there she was, walking around perfectly fine.
If Ryder were to somehow overcome his innate weakness one day, would he end up like Evangeline? It was a deeply unsettling thought.
Unaware of Lak's inner turmoil, the cursed child continued to chatter.
"I thought Lady Rohanson was an angel who came to take me away because I died."
Lak clicked his tongue inwardly. Evangeline Rohanson was hardly comparable to something so holy. Besides, the Marchioness had filled Ryder's head with such foolish delusions.
An angel? How could a cursed creature ever be embraced by God? As pitiful as the child was, Ryder would never find peace, even in death.
"Did you think so too, butler?"
"I was afraid."
"Afraid?"
"Yes. I never wish to face her again."
Perhaps it was the terrifying possibility that Ryder might grow up to be like her, but Lak felt a dread that went far beyond mere discomfort.
"You must truly respect Madame Toten. So much so that you would tell me, a stranger you met today, all about the marquisate's circumstances, fearing it might affect her."
His heart had plummeted when she’d sarcastically accused him of disrespecting Madame Toten. Fear seized him; she had pierced straight through his facade, laying bare the sordid thoughts in his mind.
Had she caught on to something from just a few words? Or had she already investigated him? Had the Marchioness discovered his underhanded schemes and asked Evangeline to test him?
A flurry of wild assumptions cluttered his mind.
Fearing the Marchioness might have indeed found out, he had intentionally told the resting Ryder that a guest had arrived, forcing the three of them to meet. The Marchioness didn't seem to know the truth yet, but Evangeline Rohanson would surely inform her soon.
However, as long as the child was in his grasp, the Marchioness would not be able to act rashly. Lak glanced down at the leverage in his arms, the boy's breathing shallow and weak.
"Anyone would think you were the master of the marquis's estate."
He had never dared to harbor such thoughts. Lak was merely displeased that proof of divine abandonment had appeared in the marquisate he so loved.
The Marchioness, once wise and beloved by her people, had spent the last four years squandering their fortune on temple offerings for her cursed son, abandoning the estate to coop herself up in the capital.
Lak believed that Lord Laupos—the Marquis's younger brother—should inherit the family, not a child destined for an early grave. That would be far more beneficial to the house.
One only had to compare the marquisate's current standing to its glory ten years ago, when the Marquis was in his prime, to see the obvious answer.
Lost in his thoughts, they arrived at the bedroom. Lak tucked the child in and was about to leave when a small hand tugged at his sleeve.
"Butler. I want to hear a lullaby."
He was referring to the one the Marchioness always sang to him before he slept. Normally, he would never act so spoiled with the butler, but he seemed exceptionally exhausted today.
"I cannot sing as well as Madam, but if you do not mind, I shall."
Lak stroked the child's head and sang a clumsy, off-key lullaby. His wrinkled, old hand caressed Ryder's hair as if wishing to drain every last drop of vitality from the boy.
"…Are you asleep?"
Before long, the child drifted off. Lak brought his hand to the boy's nose, pulling it back only when he felt the faint, hot puffs of shallow breath.
The old hand drifted from the child's soft nose down to his slender throat, gently tracing its line. Lacking the courage to do the deed himself, the old man could only pray that God would take the child's life swiftly.
"Please, die quickly."
Lak offered his prayer to a merciful God. Then, holding his breath so as not to wake the sleeping boy, he slipped out of the room.
The door clicked shut with a groan. In the silence, the steady breathing that had kept time with the ticking clock faltered, dissolving into wet, muffled sobs.
The child knew all too well that his mother was the only person in the world who loved him.
* * *
Quite some time had passed since my visit to Marquis Toten's estate. Now, my debutante ball was just around the corner. When I counted the days, only three remained.
What? Seriously, only three days? That's way less time than I thought. Is this for real? Where did all the time go?
Just as I was lamenting how time seemed to fly by for everyone but me, Gabriel dropped by the Rohanson mansion again. I had asked him to visit one more time.
Perhaps because he had to squeeze me into his packed schedule, he arrived several hours later than promised. I’d assumed he wasn't coming and, exhausted from waiting, had fallen fast asleep. When the news of his arrival finally woke me, I dragged myself out to greet him.
How dare he interrupt my precious beauty sleep? And right when I was having such a wonderful dream, too.
I was dreaming of a woman in a white dress caressing me. I couldn't remember her face, but I vaguely recalled calling her "Mom." It had been so long since I'd had such a nostalgic dream about my mother, and I never expected it to be cut short like this.
Then again, since I was the one who summoned him, Gabriel wasn't really to blame. The butler must have taken good care of him, as Gabriel was waiting leisurely in the drawing room. He had been so stiff and tense during his first visit, but after dropping by a few times, he was starting to act like he owned the place.
Well, look at that. They had even laid out a lavish spread of tea and sweets. Our servants, who had initially been thrown into a frenzy by the scandalous pairing of a villainess and a paladin, now seemed completely unfazed by his presence.
Spotting me, Gabriel stood up and offered a polite bow.
"My apologies, Lady Rohanson. I am late."
He breaks our appointment, ruins my beauty sleep, and thinks a simple apology settles the score? Well, of course it did. A mere villainess like me had no right to complain to the almighty male lead.
"Have you been busy?"
"If I may offer an excuse, yes. Our Order of Pararos Knights is tasked with security for His Highness the Crown Prince's birthday banquet."
It almost sounded like he was boasting about squeezing me into his hectic schedule. Of course, being the blunt male lead he was, there was no way he meant it in some sly, roundabout way.
Thanks to Doline's rhetoric lessons, I was starting to overanalyze everything, hearing double meanings and sarcasm in every sentence. At this rate, if someone complimented me, I'd probably take it the wrong way and snap at them. And that would officially seal my fate as a true villainess.
"Did your meeting with Madame Toten go well?"
"Have you not heard from her?"
"Madame Toten has not visited the temple since then. I sent a letter just in case, but I have yet to receive a reply."
Given her connection with Gabriel, I assumed she would have filled him in by now, but it seemed Madame Toten hadn't set foot in the temple since our meeting. I hadn't heard from her either.
"Did something happen?"
His tone was gentle, but this was practically an interrogation. Wow. Gabriel, are you seriously doubting me? Did you think I threatened her to stay away from the temple or something?
With all the bizarre rumors floating around, it seemed his rose-colored glasses were starting to slip. I'd better play nice today and tighten my grip on my prize.
"It seems Young Master Toten does not have much time left."
"The Young Marquis?"
To win him over, my best bet was to tell the truth. If I got defensive and insisted I did nothing wrong, he might go and double-check my story later.
"The Marchioness asked if there was a way to cure her sick child, just as I was cured."
"And how did you answer?"
"That it is impossible without offering one's life to a demon."
In short, I told her it was absolutely impossible. Since Gabriel knew I was a transmigrator, he would understand that the boy couldn't be saved the same way I was.
"…Is there truly no other way?"
But contrary to my expectations, Gabriel asked with a look of deep skepticism.