Angela chapter 25

It had been so long since they last shared a meal alone together.

They had hardly done anything befitting an engaged couple, and dining together was one of those neglected experiences.

Now that they were actually doing it, an inexplicable restlessness tickled at Angela’s fingers and toes.

“……”
“……”

With conversation absent from the table, Angela found the silence awkward and focused solely on her wine, drinking glass after glass without touching her food.

Seeing this, Kalian placed a salad in front of her, the fresh greens generously topped with chunks of cheese.

“Don’t drink too much on an empty stomach. Eat with it.”

Angela took a portion of the salad onto her plate but didn’t eat it. Instead, she asked,

“Are you worried about me?”

She had remembered how the maids had told her, while she was bathing, that His Grace worried more about her than he did about the entire kingdom.

At her question, Kalian let out a breath, looking utterly incredulous.

“Have you ever gone a day without giving me a reason to worry? Even today—what were you thinking, leaving the estate alone? Please, remember this before you act next time: eight out of ten of my worries are about you, Angela.”

Angela’s eyes widened.

Confirming that the maids’ words were true was one thing, but—his way of addressing her…

She wanted to ask where “Lady Bilton” had gone, but she was afraid that if she did, he might say it was a mistake.

She was afraid she would become “Lady Bilton” again.

So instead, Angela busied herself stabbing at her salad with her fork, as if she had no interest in the subject.

She wanted to enjoy this feeling just a little longer before it slipped away.

“Angela.”

But instead of pushing her off the edge of a cliff, Kalian gave her wings.

She couldn’t say anything, afraid that if she opened her mouth, the emotions swelling inside her would spill out in the form of tears.

“You can stay at my estate as long as you need to, until you’re at ease.”

Angela didn’t respond with words—not even with a simple “thank you” or “okay.”

She only nodded.

Kalian placed small pieces of sliced meat onto her plate.

The meal proceeded leisurely.

Their plates remained half-full, not because of any fault in the chef’s cooking but because Angela deliberately ate slowly, wanting to prolong her time with Kalian.

Fortunately, he was a gentleman—he matched her pace without complaint.

By the time their long meal finally came to an end, Kalian personally escorted Angela to her room.

It wasn’t a long walk, but Angela was grateful for the chance to delay their parting.

Just before they reached her door, Angela called out to him.

“Bring Mary here.”

“If it’s a maid you need, my estate has plenty. You won’t be lacking in care.”

Angela hesitated before speaking again.

“She’s being mistreated at the estate because of me. I don’t want to leave her there alone.”

“…You must care for Mary a great deal.”

“She’s a girl who follows me well.”

“……”

“Kalian?”

“…I’ll send someone to the Bilton estate first thing in the morning.”

Kalian had been staring at her absentmindedly before answering.

Angela gave him a faint, relieved smile.

“……”

It was only after watching Angela step inside her room that Kalian finally turned away.

But, just as she suspected—he was lost in a labyrinth.

Tonight, Angela was exactly as she had been in the past, leaving Kalian utterly disoriented.

Walking down the corridor, he changed direction.

Instead of heading to his bedroom, he went to his office.

No matter how exhausted his body was, it was clear he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.

—

The atmosphere at the Bilton estate was unusually chaotic.

The maids whispered amongst themselves whenever they crossed paths, talking about how Angela had been slapped by Yvonne and had run out of the estate.

Rita, despite knowing that Angela’s situation wasn’t much different from her own past, didn’t want to comment on the matter.

So, she quietly distanced herself from the gossip and focused on finishing her remaining chores.

As she carefully inspected the hallways to ensure everything was in order, she noticed something—

A terrace window had been left open.

Cold air was seeping inside, threatening to chill the entire mansion.

Hurriedly, Rita moved toward it.

But just as she was about to close the window, she heard soft sobbing from the terrace.

Had someone left the window open while airing out the room and forgotten to close it?

Cautiously, she peered outside.

Sitting on the terrace, crying, was the second young lady, Beatrice.

And sitting across from her, unsurprisingly, was Lady Yvonne.

Yvonne was holding Beatrice’s hand tightly.

Realizing that this was not a conversation she should be interrupting, Rita turned to leave.

But then—

“…Miss Angela… sniff, sniff… she was only trying to help… but now, sniff, what do we do…?”

Rita froze in place.

Without even realizing it, she found herself listening.

“…Sniff, Lady Matheson… s-said such cruel things… I was scared, sniff… b-but Miss Angela—”

Beatrice’s words, mixed with sobs, were halting but still understandable.

The conclusion was clear—Angela was innocent.

Yvonne had struck her for no reason.

“Beatrice.”

At the sound of Yvonne’s voice, Rita’s heart sank, even though it wasn’t her name being called.

Her tone was so heavy that it was hard to believe this was the same woman who had always been kind to every maid, no matter how much Angela tormented her.

“She’s not a young lady. Never call her that again. I won’t be using honorifics with her anymore, either.”

“…Mother.”

Beatrice’s single-word plea was laced with fear, as if she couldn’t understand how her mother could say such a thing.

But Yvonne was unwavering.

“Think about everything she’s done to us. The way she tormented us. How cruel she was. I endured it all. Every time you cried, every time you got hurt, I wanted to tear that devilish child apart, but I held back.

So don’t you dare feel guilty about this.

Don’t apologize for it.”

Hearing this much, Rita shuddered at the sheer hatred laced in every word.

She had no business eavesdropping on this any longer.

The thought pushed her forward—

She needed to leave.

She had just taken a step to escape when—

“…B-but… but that was… because of us, wasn’t it…?”

Beatrice’s sorrowful voice shackled Rita’s ankles, halting her steps.

—

Rita couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.

No, calling it unease was an understatement.

Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of her chest.

Of all the maids in this mansion, why did it have to be her who overheard this?

She should have just joined the other maids in gossiping about Angela getting slapped.

Now, she wanted nothing more than to slam her head against a wall and erase the last few minutes from her memory.

“…Damn it, seriously.”

Dragging her heavy feet, she finally returned to her room—

Only to find Mary lying on her bed, her face buried in a pillow.

Although Angela’s fiancé, Kalian, had sent word that she was safe and staying with him, it was obvious that Mary was upset simply because Angela had gone through such an ordeal.

And now, Rita found herself feeling the same way.

Ever since the day Angela had handed her money for her father’s medical expenses, thinking about Angela had felt like having a thorn lodged beneath her fingernail—uncomfortable, irritating.

But now, it had gone beyond that.

The things Beatrice had said were shocking.

Angela…

Ah, she almost longed for the time when she had hated Angela without knowing anything.

Her chest ached at the thought, and she rubbed at it roughly with the palm of her hand.

Just then, she heard Mary sniffle, swallowing back tears.

Had Mary always known the truth?

Was that why she was so fiercely loyal to Angela?

“Hey, Mary. Get up.”

Rita sat on the edge of Mary’s bed and shook her shoulder.

Mary flinched and tried to shake her off, but Rita stubbornly forced her to sit up.

Her swollen eyes glared at Rita.

It was going to be a long night.

—

Even though this place suited Angela’s tastes, it was no different from the Bilton estate when it came to sleepless nights.

She knew it couldn’t be helped.

If a mere change of location could solve her chronic insomnia, she would have snuck out of the Bilton estate every night.

Clutching the blanket tightly, she lay still, pretending to be asleep as she always did.

Then—

Knock, knock.

A soft knock came from outside.

Her maids wouldn’t come to her room at this hour.

Instinctively, she thought of Kalian.

Forgetting to even invite him in, she threw off the bothersome blanket and rushed to the door.

“What brings you here?”

The moment Kalian’s face appeared in the doorway, Angela realized she had let her excitement show too much.

“I was wondering if you were having trouble sleeping since your surroundings have changed. Didn’t I tell you? Eight out of ten of my worries are about you, Angela.”

“…So Mary told you. You two must’ve gotten pretty close while I was asleep.”

Kalian neither confirmed nor denied it, but Angela knew she was right.

— ‘My lady, you normally have trouble sleeping, but since you’ve been resting for so long, I wondered if you were making up for lost sleep.’
— ‘Does she have insomnia?’
— ‘You didn’t know? Yes, she can’t sleep at all. We’ve tried everything that’s supposed to help, but nothing works. I worry about it a lot.’

Angela would never know how much Kalian had been ashamed when Mary asked him that—when he realized he hadn’t known.

Even now, as he watched Angela awake at such a late hour, he felt a sense of disgrace.

Hiding it, he spoke.

“Should I help you sleep?”

“…Yes.”

She had no idea why Kalian had been treating her like a child since dinner, but she nodded and let him into her room.

If Kalian would accompany her through this sleepless night, then insomnia didn’t seem so bad.

“How exactly do you plan to help me sleep?”

Angela asked, eyes full of curiosity.

Kalian seemed momentarily at a loss, as if he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Then, he walked over to the bed.

Gathering up the blanket that Angela had carelessly tossed aside, he neatly arranged it and patted the space beneath it.

“Lie down here.”

Angela’s ears burned as she stiffly made her way to the bed and lay where Kalian indicated.

Her body refused to move naturally, no matter how much she tried.

But it seemed Angela was the only one with such thoughts.

Kalian, after covering her up to her chin, simply sat at her bedside and gazed down at her.

“…Is that all you’re going to do?”

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep. So don’t worry and just rest.”

At those words, Angela abruptly sat up.

“If anything, that’s going to keep me awake.”

Kalian, who hadn’t expected her complaint, thought for a moment before suggesting another idea.

“I need to write a report for the imperial palace. Would you like to sit with me and read a book while I work?”

Ah, that’s right.

He had been away on an imperial mission.

Angela realized that the cape Kalian had wrapped around her had been part of his uniform.

“My office is a mess, but I can find a place for you to sit.”

Kalian warned her, asking if she was fine with it.

Angela nodded without hesitation.

It was better than lying in bed and agonizing over nothing.

But—

She hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

Stepping into Kalian’s office, Angela stood blankly, waiting for him to clear a seat for her.

The mountains of paperwork piled high on his desk looked as if they were just waiting for the slightest touch to come crashing down.

She stood still, wary of causing an avalanche.

“Come this way.”

Kalian reached out a hand toward her.

Angela gently took it and carefully maneuvered her way through the stacks of documents, making sure her dress didn’t brush against them.

“Sit here.”

The seat he had prepared was a plush single-person sofa.

It had originally been meant for meetings, positioned by a conference table.

But the table had long since disappeared beneath layers of documents, and the other chairs had been swallowed by paperwork as well.

Angela sat down and quickly discovered the best thing about this seat—

It had a perfect view of Kalian’s desk.

She could watch him work.

“What kind of book would you like?”

Kalian glanced at the tall bookshelf beside his desk as he asked.

His brow furrowed slightly, as if he had just realized something.

Angela smirked—she could tell just from that small reaction that the shelf was probably filled with military strategy books.

She didn’t mind.

She liked books of all kinds.

Even if she had to read about warfare, it wouldn’t be too bad.

But instead of choosing, she shook her head.

“I don’t need a book.”

“You won’t get bored?”

Kalian seemed determined to find her something to read as he meticulously scanned the titles.

“I told you, I came here to watch you work.”

“…That sounds incredibly boring.”

Even as he said that, Kalian eventually picked a book and handed it to her.

It wasn’t a strategy book but one about the origins of various weapons.

Angela accepted it and countered his words.

“I doubt it.”

With that, Kalian sat at his desk and began working.

Angela pretended to read, but through the pages, she secretly observed him.

His meticulous handwriting, his focused expression—it was a side of Kalian she would never have imagined when they first met.

It made her feel oddly proud.

Then—

“…You’re going to wear a hole through me.”

Kalian muttered, having finally realized that Angela’s attention wasn’t on his reports but on his face.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───