Chapter 57. How Long Can I Keep Hating You
2023.10.27.
When Blair cautiously lifted her head, she saw Herdin's back, wearing a robe as if he had just washed.
He was putting firewood into the fireplace. Droplets of water clinging to his wet hair caught the light and glistened.
After confirming the firewood had caught, Herdin turned toward the bed. Blair closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. It felt like the right thing to do.
The presence that approached without footsteps stopped in front of the bed, and a shadow fell over her. Soon, a weight settled beside her. It was a familiar weight—the one that held her down every night.
Blair worried he might wake her, but even after a long while, Herdin didn't move.
When she quietly opened her eyes, she saw his face lying still with closed eyes.
That face felt unfamiliar.
He would always hold her greedily until he fell asleep as if fainting, then sleep and wake up first.
So the sight of him quietly sleeping beside her was exceedingly strange. The sight of him being here solely for her, without any benefit to himself.
Suddenly, she recalled the night she had lit the fireplace herself to prove her grievance. Even that night, he had stayed by her side.
He's always like this.
Just when she turns away, no longer wanting to be hurt by his indifference, he strides up like this and shakes her.
At the moment she needs him most, at the moment her heart weakens. He burrows in without missing that opening.
Blair realized with self-mockery that her trembling body had calmed down regardless of her will. She could no longer deny that it was thanks to the man keeping watch beside her.
'He might be the one who killed me.'
And again, soon again, he's someone who will leave me.
I resent your careless kindness.
I hate myself for wavering even while knowing that kindness is like a spring breeze.
When I miraculously turned back time and returned to the past, I was certain I would never love you again. I was... and yet....
Now, a little anxiety crept in.
How long can I keep hating you?
* * *
After the sun had fully set, Wesley emerged through the side gate of the Baldwin Marquisate.
He constantly scanned his surroundings as he made his way to the main road and hailed a carriage. His demeanor was extremely cautious.
"To the club."
It was his first outing since the hunting tournament.
A few days ago, the hunting tournament was suspended when Blair went missing. Ivan, who didn't know the full story, simply thought Blair had gotten stranded and found it dissatisfactory.
Herdin had torn through the entire forest frantically searching for Blair, and in the meantime, Wesley had found and killed the man he hired to carry out the kidnapping.
Now there would be no way to prove his involvement in the incident.
He had borrowed money from Rachel, but as long as she herself wasn't about to confess to being involved in this case, she couldn't demand the money back.
Even if Herdin suspected him, he couldn't punish him based on mere suspicion.
'In the end, nothing happened to that bitch Blair, and she was rescued safely, so isn't that that?'
So it was just a minor incident.
Thinking that way put his mind at ease.
He even felt a bit embarrassed about staying confined in the marquisate for days, worrying that Herdin might come to arrest him.
Of course, the money spent on orchestrating the whole thing was somewhat regrettable.
'If I had used that as gambling money, I might have multiplied it quite a bit...'
While Wesley was smacking his lips, the carriage arrived at the club.
'So what, I'll just win today and inflate the pot more.'
Standing in front of the club, an unfounded confidence surged within him that today he would become the winner of the gamble.
Wesley, inflated with anticipation as always, stepped inside the club.
"Well, if it isn't the great Wesley Baldwin skipping club attendance for days. What's the occasion?"
"I was about to worry thinking you were sick somewhere."
The crowd he always hung out with greeted him with snickers.
After exchanging frivolous jokes, they naturally found their seats and started a card game as they always did.
Wesley received his cards and checked his hand. His eyes widened.
'The hand isn't bad...?'
Perhaps it wasn't just wishful thinking—he might actually become today's winner.
Thump, thump, his heart began to race with anticipation. He was even more nervous than when he had a bad hand.
Wesley anxiously received his final card. The moment he confirmed it, ecstasy spread across his face.
With this hand, it would be harder to lose.
Just as Wesley was trying to calm his explosively beating heart and about to reveal his hand—
A sudden shadow loomed over Wesley.
"Hello, Wesley."
Wesley's face turned pale with shock at Herdin's appearance.
"A dog can't quit shit, and you can't quit gambling. Right?"
The terrified Wesley quickly tried to stand and flee, but Herdin wasn't about to let that happen.
He grabbed Wesley's head and slammed it into the card table.
"Argh!"
Intimidated by the murderous aura, the club members scurried away.
After Herdin slammed Wesley's head into the game table a couple more times, Wesley finally stopped his meaningless resistance and went docile.
Herdin leaned over the groaning Wesley and spoke in a low voice.
"If you run the moment you see me, I have no choice but to suspect you."
"That's because you've been threatening me, calling me the culprit right off the bat since that day!"
The respectful attitude from the hunting tournament was long gone. But from Herdin's perspective, this was actually less ridiculous.
Compared to a bastard who used to delight in his misfortune as a child, now groveling and fawning over him as an adult.
Herdin turned Wesley's head to meet his gaze as his true nature revealed itself.
"It was you, wasn't it. The culprit."
Blue flames ignited in his eyes. Wesley flinched, instinctively overwhelmed by that ferocity, but it was fleeting.
"Fuck, do you have any proof it was me?"
Herdin looked at Wesley with a strange expression as he brazenly turned the tables.
Wesley struggled with his captured head and shrieked.
"Is this how you treat someone who helped out of goodwill—"
"Rachel Seldon."
At that moment, Wesley's resistance stopped at the familiar name slipping from Herdin's lips. Herdin didn't miss the opening and added.
"That woman confessed everything. Said it was all your scheme."
Wesley's heart sank upon hearing that. Simultaneously, fury boiled up toward Rachel for betraying him.
"Fuck, no! It's all... yeah, that bitch made me do it all! I just did what she told me!"
"......"
"The money came from her too. Blair, no, the Duchess, offended her, so she said she wanted to humiliate her!"
"......"
"Think about it. Where would I get the money to orchestrate something like that?"
Herdin, who had been quietly listening to Wesley's words, finally released his head with a throw and opened his mouth.
"I suppose I'll have to visit the Seldon Marquisate and ask to find out how much of that is true."
"...What?"
Wesley, who had been desperately shifting all the blame onto Rachel, faltered.
Saying he'd go to the Seldon Marquisate later meant...
"You didn't meet Rachel first...?"
Herdin gave a cold smile as he looked at Wesley staring at him with a dumbfounded expression.
"This is exactly why you lose your stake every time."
To lose his reason over a single unverified statement and blurt everything out himself.
And what about those emotions so plainly written on his face?
"You bastard, how could you lie like—!"
Herdin swept Wesley's leg as he charged, effortlessly knocking him down. Wesley tumbled to the floor with a loud clatter, looking ridiculous.
Herdin looked down at Wesley coldly and spoke.
"Why. You touched my woman and deceived me, but only I have to play fair?"
"You...!"
"Don't feel so wronged."
He pulled a small vial from his inner pocket and threw it in front of Wesley. The vial shattered against the floor with a crisp sound, and the liquid inside spilled out.
A sweet, alluring fragrance wafted out.
Wesley's eyes wavered at the sight.
What was in that vial was what the kidnapper had intended to feed Blair.
"There was no way out for you from the start."
When he visited the abandoned building with Wesley, he had found the medicine vial dropped among Blair's traces.
A vial that looked brand new, the only item of its kind lying in an old, shabby abandoned building, was suspicious at first glance.
Herdin had ordered an investigation into the identity and origin of this medicine, and for Ruth, who was well-versed in such matters, finding the buyer was easy.
Even knowing Wesley was the mastermind, the reason he tested him was first to secure Wesley's confession, and second—
'I saw her going into the forest with a knight.'
It was to firmly establish suspicion against Rachel Seldon, who had given false testimony claiming she saw the kidnapped Blair with another man.
Since Wesley Baldwin had reliably fulfilled his role in that regard, the only thing he could do now was run his mouth.
That would surely be noisy.
"Get some sleep for now."
Herdin grabbed the back of Wesley's head, who had faithfully played his part, and slammed it forcefully into the game table once more. Soon, Wesley's body went limp.
Herdin tossed the unconscious Wesley like a sack to the knights waiting in the distance and turned away.
"Load him in the carriage."
Now it was time to catch the other mastermind.