Episode 8
"It's nothing. So……."
She seized Killian's hand urgently, like a drowning person gasping for air. His cold, smooth hand flinched.
"…
Please don't be angry. I beg you……."
Instead of answering, Killian quietly looked down at her. The pleading woman was desperate. He looked as if he might turn around and shoot the two old women dead at any moment.
In truth, it wasn't as if he couldn't do it if he set his mind to it. He had more than enough staff and doctors to kill the two women right now and clean up after the maid and servant trembling in silence inside the kitchen.
But his mistress was a weak woman. She would be tormented, remembering it for the rest of her life.
He enjoyed watching her tremble in fear, but only when it was before him. A precarious silence continued, like walking a tightrope.
"Miss Philone."
When Rowena could no longer endure the taut tension, he gave an order.
"Close your eyes and cover your ears from now on."
Rowena's eyes widened at the warning coming from above her head.
"And go upstairs."
She wanted to ask why, but the eyes meeting hers were as black as the barrel of a gun. Rowena hunched her shoulders at the hand pressing down on her eyelids.
The moment she covered her ears as ordered, something crashed and shattered with a loud noise. Rowena placed her hand on the stair railing as if fleeing from a bombardment and quickly moved away. However, when she reached the landing, her steps halted. She turned around at a scream piercing through her ears.
"Aaaack!"
"Ah, my mistake."
Rosaline gasped at the fragment that grazed her cheek and flew past. Blood dripped heavily from the place grazed red like a thinly drawn line.
"Ahh……."
Terror painted her vision black, and Rosaline stumbled backward. Regardless, Killian pulled another teacup from the foyer display cabinet.
With an indifferent gaze, he looked down at it as if appraising its value. It was one of the teacups bestowed by the Queen. One his mother had cherished and brought out when honored guests arrived.
"D-don't… do this, please."
Her voice was choked with tears. Killian let out a short laugh and replied.
"You said you wanted this teacup as well. So you must receive it properly. As payment for the education you provided."
"……."
"This time, receive it properly. My lady."
Before he even finished speaking, he, gripping the teacup, threw it away like trash.
"Aaaaack!"
Rosaline squeezed her eyes shut at the fragments that smashed into pieces against the wall and curled her body up like a fetus. Gertrude too sat down in her place, lips trembling.
Before primal fear, dignity and authority did not exist. It was primal madness and rage. A warning for trespassing upon his domain without permission.
The porcelains adorning the foyer were ruthlessly smashed and shattered.
"S-save me……."
"Oh dear. Whatever shall we do if you can't catch a single one?"
Once everything was destroyed by those merciless hands, Killian turned his head.
"Come to think of it, you also coveted that ornamental sword before, didn't you?"
What entered his sight was a sword hanging on the wall. Though fixed to the wall for decoration, the blade was pitch-black. As he strode toward it, someone embraced him from behind. His unstoppable footsteps came to a halt.
"Stop… please stop."
A voice as small and powerless as an ant's. Even with her arms spread wide embracing him, the arms wrapped around his broad back, which was not even half a turn, were slender and frail.
"For my sake…. I beg you…."
His back became damp. Trembling, Rowena buried her face in his back.
"I'm scared…. Please…."
For the past three years, even after rolling about chaotically, he would transform into a gentleman as if he had never rushed at her like a beast.
A man sitting in a first-class seat on the wrong train. The profile of him resting his chin on his hand, looking outside with a bored expression. Features so neat and sculpted they were chilling.
That intensely etched first impression remained inside Rowena as Killian Devonshire to this day.
A man calm and cold at every moment.
That was why his current appearance frightened her. She feared his loss of reason, and her hands shook even more because she couldn't know how far he would go.
—Miss Philone. Do you know that Killian's honor has been tarnished because of you alone?
—He is in the prime of his age, so I'm enduring this because it's better than him taking any random woman.
—Make sure to take your contraceptives without fail. If by any chance you carry a dirty bastard in that vulgar womb of yours, I will not let it be.
Elegantly poured insults. A moment when her blood froze from head to toe. Yet she had to endure it silently. As she had always done, enduring and enduring again.
If only the rebelliousness she hadn't known she possessed hadn't reared its head.
—He… he cherishes me.
—…
What did you say?
—So if I were to have a child… it would not be according to Your Ladyship's wishes.
It was fine for them to insult and trample upon her. She had already grown used to it.
But she could not endure them treating a child not yet conceived as trash, as filth.
It was her child, but it was also Killian's child. It was their child.
The Countess's face twisted the next moment. A hand flying fiercely had also struck her cheek sharply.
Everything that happened was because of her. Because of her impulse.
"I was wrong……."
Rowena clung to the man standing still as an ice wall, neither denying nor assenting, like a lifeline.
"It's all my fault……."
Something pressing down on her chest like a malignant tumor blocked her prayers. She couldn't breathe. Her vision went dark, and her consciousness grew faint. Strength left her hands.
"Rowena!"
A large, firm hand supported her back. Her consciousness faded away just like that.
"Uuhm……."
Rowena pushed up her heavy eyelids. Turning her head with difficulty, she saw Melissa sitting in a chair by her bedside, dozing off. Her throat felt parched, as if it would burn up. Floundering from extreme thirst, Rowena moved her dry lips.
"Mel…
issa."
"Mmm……."
It was a small voice, but thankfully she seemed to have understood. Melissa, rubbing her eyes, was startled.
"…
My lady?"
"……
Water."
"My lady! Good heavens."
Melissa let out a sigh of relief and hugged her tightly. The sudden embrace took her breath away.
"You've woken up. Thank goodness."
"Melissa…."
Rowena let out a hollow cough and pushed with a strengthless hand, and Melissa awkwardly loosened her grip.
"I-I'm sorry. I was just so happy. Here's the water."
Rowena gulped down the glass of water Melissa handed her and looked around her surroundings.
"I'm fine. More importantly……."
Everything was unfamiliar. It wasn't the guest room she had stayed in for the past ten days. Nor was it the bedroom she had shared with him.
A rosewood bed with four posts draped in damask fabric. A carpet embroidered with geometric patterns and a fireplace with embossed angel decorations. Above it, an antique tapestry. On the right side, instead of a window, there was a large glass door leading to a balcony.
It was a luxurious room reminiscent of a country house bedroom in Rockford. Rowena, who had been staring blankly around, quietly asked.
"Where… is this?"
"Ah… it's another of the Devonshire townhouses. It's my first time here too."
Rowena blinked at Melissa's answer.
It seemed to be another one of the three townhouses. Though three years had passed, it was her first time here. It looked twice as large as the townhouse where she stayed.
While Rowena, having come to her senses, looked around the room in admiration, Melissa, putting away the glass, cautiously brought up a topic.
"By the way, yesterday was a shock."
"What?"
"As expected, you don't remember. I heard it from the maids here—the Duke carried you, who had fainted, here last night, and called for a personal physician."
She said that afterward, no one could even open their mouths until the doctor arrived.
She recalled a maid trembling, saying the atmosphere was such that one felt a hole might be bored into their forehead at the slightest mistake, with veins bulging on his forehead and eyes blazing ominously.
However, it seemed better not to pass that part on. Having concluded as much, Melissa swallowed the rest.
"I see……."
Rowena recalled the firm hand that had supported her. It seemed to have trembled slightly. It must have been her imagination. Rowena shook her head, hesitated, then asked.
"By the way… what happened to the Countess? And Lady Gertrude……."
It was true that she had been slapped by the Countess and that Lady Gertrude had stood by and watched. But hadn't they been caught by Killian and punished enough?
Lady Gertrude was like one of his limbs to Killian, and the Countess of Essex was family by blood. She hoped he wouldn't become estranged from them because of her.
"Ah. That……."
Knock, knock.
As Melissa opened her mouth to answer the cautious question, someone knocked on the door from outside. Before she could ask who it was, the other party took the initiative.
"Lady Philone."
The title that had openly been "Miss Philone" had changed. Surprised, Rowena looked at Melissa. While Melissa too tilted her head as their eyes met, the woman outside the door spoke again.
"Lady Philone. Are you awake?"
"Ah, yes. She just woke up."
"I see. Then may I come in?"
"Yes."
Before Melissa could answer again, the door slowly opened. A neatly dressed woman entered the room, pulling a cart.
She was a tall, slender woman who appeared to be in her early thirties.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Philone."
Despite her sharp impression, the woman approached with a friendly demeanor.