Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: As Expected, He Appeared
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“It was hard to find out. You cleaned up so well.”
Lena tried not to make too cruel an expression and spoke in as gentle a voice as possible.
“But it’s a relief anyway. I knew long ago that Father likes playing with fire. If I hadn’t even known that much, I’d really have been at a loss.”
Lena laughed self-deprecatingly as she looked at her father. She wondered if he understood the meaning of the joke she’d just made. Glancing at his face, she saw the marquis frozen stiff. He had gone pale, as if stabbed by a knife, and was staring at Lena. The marquis felt as if a demon had seized his heart. How? How, when he’d hidden it perfectly, burned everything to ashes—how on earth?
For a moment, the same impulse he’d felt toward his son surged toward his daughter. He wanted to strangle that child who was staring straight at him, make her disappear right then and there. His fingertips trembled with the intense urge, but the marquis barely regained his senses and clenched his fist.
‘There’s no evidence. It’s been years already. It might just be a probe….’
The marquis tried to think rationally, but tension returned to his jaw. It was too much, too specific, to dismiss as mere probing. Besides, Lena had no reason to grasp at another of his weaknesses when she already held complete advantage. She wouldn’t gamble needlessly. Backed into a corner, the marquis trembled quietly with rage.
“So I understand what you said before. That you had to decide whether we all die together or cut off one finger.”
Lena spoke bitterly, looking at her astonished father. As she’d said, it really had been hard to uncover. He’d cleaned up so thoroughly that tracking it down wasn’t easy. But Lena knew her father was the type to set fires to erase traces. While searching for a method, she collected notable fire records from the national archives and learned that Rubel Castle had burned down twenty years ago. Viscount Rubel’s castle reduced to ashes overnight. Cardo Rubel, who survived alone and rebuilt the family from the empty plot. Lena, the daughter of that very house, had been completely ignorant of that great feat. Her father, who never mourned his burned kin even a little. An origin he never shared with his children. That’s when the clues began to unravel. Through that investigation, Lena even learned who the strange visitor from her childhood had been. His name, pieced together through countless informants, was Raoul. He had been a low-ranking noble who served the Rubel family, landowners on the western frontier. Twenty years ago, he barely survived the castle where hundreds were slaughtered. He had nearly been the first victim, but the man who became Cardo Rubel saved his life by setting the fire. Thick smoke blinded the madman, and a burning chunk from the ceiling cauterized Raoul’s wounds, stopping the bleeding. Raoul’s survival was nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps a mistake by the gods, or a curse by the devil. Awakening covered in burns, Raoul felt like going mad. Everything had turned to ashes overnight. His family, friends, wealth, status, and even his body. A presumptuous woodsman had taken it all. Raoul wanted to die, but first he had work to do. He had to execute that loathsome woodsman. Squeezing out his last strength, he headed to the capital, but upon arriving, Raoul vanished without doing anything. The reason wasn’t hard to guess. He must have been afraid. Afraid of the ‘Cardo Rubel’ calmly playing noble in the capital. Afraid of his resourcefulness, meticulousness, ferocity, and cruelty. Raoul had no confidence facing that fake Rubel. What chance did he have, with nothing to his name and a broken body, against a man elevated to viscount? Even if he exposed the impostor, who would listen? Reveal the secret to the Western Marquis, his patron? Ah, but that was a gamble with slim odds. The Western Marquis favored the man who saved his life, not the viscount’s son. Pretend to be mad and shout it from the rooftops? That would be dismissed as ravings from a lunatic. So Raoul waited. Waited and waited for the fake Rubel to show a weakness. He watched the man prosper day by day, biding his time in agony. For over a decade. Finally, the moment came. The Western Marquis, his powerful patron, died of old age. Almost simultaneously, a high noble who saw him as a thorn appeared. A countess who had been rejected after making advances to Cardo Rubel. Hatred born of romantic rejection—what could fester more perfectly? Raoul didn’t hesitate and approached the countess. Then he spilled everything about Cardo Rubel. The countess, wounded in her pride, poured out joy and contempt at Rubel’s weakness, and Raoul grew excited at the thought of finally getting revenge. If he’d laid low after that, his revenge might have succeeded. But over a decade, his life had become utterly wretched. Grinding poverty wore him down. So Raoul, drunk on excitement, boldly went to Rubel without fear. He planned to blackmail him for money before the countess could act. No, not just money—he wanted to see that face twist in person.
“I remember. The man who came that day.”
The man who showed up one day and stirred waves in their peaceful viscount household.
“I saw Father flustered for the first time that day.”
Back then, she hadn’t realized. She never imagined he’d be the start of everything. In any case, his existence had certainly cornered her father. The truth he held and the backer he chose were enough to bring her father ruin. But her resilient father sought a way to survive and ultimately joined hands with the devilish Western Duke. Clavis Sirenchium Grasha. The emperor’s all-powerful lapdog. The offer probably came from him first. Do you need help? Swear loyalty, and offer your daughter. So her father decided. All die together, or cut off one finger. It was a shallow tale, easy enough to understand.
“That’s as far as I got. Anything wrong?”
The marquis stared at Lena, unable to affirm or deny. What gripped him now was shame beyond astonishment. It was all exposed. That ignoble flaw, the secret of his lowly birth, uncovered not by others but by his own daughter.
“Judging by your reaction, I got it mostly right.”
Lena murmured with a smile, igniting the marquis’s creeping shame like fire. As if reading even that, Lena continued.
“Fake name, fake status, fake life. Nothing of your own, but you must be satisfied anyway.”
Because he was alive. Because the assumed name was sweeter and more comfortable than anything.
“But I’m not satisfied.”
Perhaps I would have compromised if I’d survived too. Like when I once dreamed of a new life. But Lena’s hopes had all been crushed. Life and revenge alike. Now, only one thing remained for Lena.
“Now that I’ve said this much, do you understand what I want?”
Lena asked languidly of her father, gone white as a sheet. His shocked face was inwardly gratifying. And sadder still. The marquis replied in a strangled voice, grinding out the words.
“You’re determined to ruin the house after all.”
“Who’s ruining it?”
So Lena feigned surprise instead.
“Don’t blame me. Am I forcing lies? Ordering wrongdoings? Is this demand unjust?”
Lena listed the words rapidly and shook her head.
“No, these are all problems you’ve put off.”
“So you’re saying it’s fine if we die? Your parents and brother too?”
The marquis pressed Lena, even bringing up his son. It was a fine move. Unlike with her mother, the word “brother” effectively stirred Lena’s heart. My brother. Innocent like me, guilty of nothing but being your child. Her resolve wavered for a moment, but Lena didn’t show it and shot back.
“I don’t wish for death.”
“What’s that different from telling us to die—exposing my shame to the world is the same as…!”
“You still think I’m easy to deal with.”
“What?”
The marquis furrowed his brow at Lena’s retort.
“If that happens, it’s the emperor and other nobles who’ll destroy you. Yet you’re not appealing to them and still desperate only to silence me.”
Lena added with a cold smile.
“You still don’t get who you should fear more.”
You, and your wife too. Lena recalled what her mother had whispered earlier. The first words to her daughter after years apart.
—Please, say nothing.
As expected, words to seal her mouth. From beyond the grave, no less. Swallowing her disgust, Lena wiped the sauce stain from her clothes with a napkin. But the blood-like blotch wouldn’t fade—instead, it spread. Thinking, *Is this what we are to each other?* Lena rose from her seat. Then she announced to her father, who watched her.
“Don’t misunderstand. I’m not rampaging just because I’ve grown stronger. And this is a demand I can make, strong or weak.”
A demand the innocently erased can make—and must make. You who can’t understand that still don’t deserve forgiveness. Having said her piece, Lena smiled faintly at the rigid marquis.
“No conclusion today either, it seems. I’ll go now. It’s a shame, but we still have time.”
“Sit back down.”
“Are you ordering me?”
The marquis, who had grabbed at Lena, shut his mouth at her retort. Lena ignored her snakelike father and headed for the banquet hall’s exit. But she suddenly halted at the door.
“…You said you had no choice. All die together, or cut off one.”
Lena asked, still facing away.
“Was sacrificing yourself never an option?”
No answer came. She’d expected as much. In the end, he chose what benefited him and now pretended to suffer. Lena laughed like a sigh and pushed the door. Then, turning back one last time, she told her father.
“Then think harder. Which is easier—earning my forgiveness or killing me.”
***
When Lena left the mansion, the sky was dyed with sunset. A carriage was prepared, but she didn’t ride it. Instead, she walked. She knew it was too far to walk, but right now, she just wanted to. How long had she walked when the sunset faded and stars appeared? As darkness fell, her legs began to ache. Feeling the pain snapped her back to reality.
“Ah….”
Startled, she took off her shoes and saw blood seeping from her heels. The stiff leather had rubbed them raw. Lena looked around. The night street was empty. To catch even a night cab, she’d have to go farther.
“What a mess.”
Lena sighed unwittingly. It really was a mess. Sitting on a nearby bench, she covered her face in self-loathing. She was suppressing it, but her heart was full of turmoil. It wasn’t just from meeting her mother. In truth, she’d felt this way before even going home. That’s why she’d been emotional at the mansion too. She’d wanted to act more composed before her father, but it hadn’t worked. That’s why she’d tormented him. She hated him for reducing her to this and still refusing any loss, so she’d cornered him deliberately. It felt a bit satisfying. But more than that, it left her hollow. What was the point of it all? It was exhausting. The reason was simple. She’d thought she’d tidied everything up, planned to leave cleanly once done—but suddenly, greed arose. Because of one person. The one who’d sought her out in the abyss without her asking. That person….
“Lena?”
Lena startled and looked up. Unable to believe the sight before her, she whispered.
“Rin…?”
That person appeared without fail, right when needed.