Angela chapter 28

“I did it because I was jealous. I was jealous that Yvonne was too kind only to you, so I did something terrible. It wasn’t your fault, but I must have wanted to take it out on someone weaker than me.”

“…….”

“I’m sorry.”

“…….”

“Beatrice, I’ll stay like this until you’re ready to forgive me. So when you feel like forgiving me, please…”

“……Hic.”

A sob cut through the words at that moment. Angela, who had no intention of making Beatrice cry—at least not today—instinctively lifted her head. She saw Beatrice’s face growing increasingly damp with tears.

Beatrice, wiping her tears alternately with both palms, stiffly shook her head and stepped backward hesitantly. Her unsteady retreat was reminiscent of a child still struggling to walk.

“Please….”

Putting more distance between herself and Angela, Beatrice pleaded through her tears.

“Please don’t do this….”

Then, she suddenly turned and ran. No matter how one looked at it, she was running away.

A maid called out, “My lady! My lady!” as she hurriedly chased after Beatrice.

Angela, still kneeling, could only watch the shrinking figure in silence.

—

The emperor received a petition from the lord responsible for managing the Golden Plains and its surrounding lands. The petition claimed that a couple of strange flying creatures were circling the skies over the plains, and they appeared to be Alkyon. Upon receiving this report, the emperor immediately ordered Kalian to assemble a reconnaissance team and investigate the area.

Kalian personally delivered the resulting report, written in precise handwriting, to Emperor Truga.

As Truga read through the neatly compiled report, his face grew heavy with concern.

“So, it really was Alkyon?”

“It was certain.”

“And there were an overwhelming number of them, you say…?”

Alkyon were creatures that only inhabited certain extreme cold regions in the northern borderlands near the Kingdom of Taran. There was no way to explain how they had traveled as far as the Golden Plains.

“Sigh.”

Truga let out a deep sigh and handed the report to the attendant beside him, rubbing his forehead.

“Just yesterday, I received news that Red Wolves had been spotted in the western region.”

A sharp glint flashed across Kalian’s face as he stood upright.

“Red Wolves are officially classified as extinct in Phaelon.”

“Exactly. But according to the descriptions, they were unmistakably Red Wolves.”

At Truga’s signal, the attendant carefully presented another document to Kalian. Accepting it, Kalian quickly scanned through the contents.

The features described on the paper left no doubt—they were Red Wolves. Especially the detail about the red fur around their mouths. The most notorious trait of Red Wolves was their habit of indiscriminately devouring anything alive, leaving their muzzles perpetually stained with fresh blood.

“You’ve just returned from the Golden Plains, but I must ask you to go to the western region as well.”

Truga, looking as though he had aged decades in an instant, issued the order.

Kalian, having finished reading the report, bowed his head in silent acknowledgment.

Leaving the audience chamber, Kalian walked down the grand corridors of the imperial palace, lined with towering pillars. His expression was grim.

The presence of Alkyon was one thing, but the reappearance of the Red Wolves in the Phaelon Empire was particularly troubling because it was Kalian and Dominic who had officially declared their extinction.

The decision had been made nearly a decade ago, when a Red Wolf pack completely decimated a provincial lord’s castle. The creatures, with their long fangs nearly reaching their throats, had slaughtered and devoured every human within the walls. The extermination was ordered immediately.

And now, after all these years, they were back.

Kalian needed to see it with his own eyes.

There was just one thing bothering him—he would have to leave Angela behind.

He had always left Angela behind without a word, only to return the same way. But now, he didn’t want to.

They had only just started to bridge the distance between them. He didn’t want to take even a single step away.

“I can’t exactly take her with me to a place where Red Wolves have appeared….”

Kalian came to a halt with a sigh.

He was thinking. Thinking of a way to leave without truly leaving.

—

Most of the people living in Ron were not accustomed to the cold. They had never experienced truly harsh weather.

Travelers from the north often described Ron’s winter as being like spring, but for those born and raised there, even the brief cold season was unbearable. They bundled themselves in thick clothing and shivered in the chill.

Angela was no exception. Having lived her entire life in Ron, she had never formed any kind of relationship with the cold.

Moreover, as a lady of a ducal family, she was always surrounded by attendants ensuring her comfort—providing shade when it was too hot, shielding her from the wind when it was too cold.

Yet, here she was, kneeling alone in the garden of the Bilton estate in the middle of winter.

Kalian had returned to the count’s residence immediately after his audience with Emperor Truga. But something was missing.

It wasn’t something that had originally been there, but Angela’s absence struck Kalian hard.

When he learned that she had left because of an issue concerning her maid, Mary, Kalian immediately rushed to the Bilton estate.

And the scene he encountered upon arrival—

Kalian momentarily covered his eyes with a hand, as if trying to block out the sight before him. It didn’t feel real.

But no matter how many times he looked again, Angela remained where she was. She had become a part of the bleak winter landscape, making Kalian feel utterly helpless.

Struggling to move his feet, he finally stepped forward and approached her.

“What are you doing here?”

Not wanting her to have to look up at him, Kalian knelt down as well, lowering himself to her level.

The chill from the ground seeped through his clothes, making him clench his jaw.

“What else would someone kneeling on the ground be doing? I’m begging for forgiveness.”

Angela answered casually.

It was a situation where anyone else would have been brimming with indignation at the humiliation, but she showed no sign of it.

Was that fortunate, or not? Kalian wasn’t sure.

“From whom?”

“Beatrice.”

“Why all of a sudden? Did Lady Yvonne tell you to do this?”

“Yes. Mother said if Beatrice forgives me, she’ll release Mary.”

She could have just abandoned Mary. Kalian knew he wouldn’t, but Angela was someone who could.

Yet, she was doing this.

And Kalian had no idea why.

Someone like Angela, who would rather bite off her tongue than bow before Yvonne and Beatrice…

Kalian shook his head slightly, stopping himself from overthinking. He recalled what had happened at dawn.

Trying to define Angela was a foolish endeavor.

He knew nothing about her.

“Stand up. I’ll take you to your room.”

Kalian reached out his hand toward Angela. He wanted to erase this scene as quickly as possible.

But Angela, though she stared at his outstretched hand for a long moment, firmly shook her head.

“I haven’t heard Beatrice say she forgives me yet.”

At those words, Kalian clenched the hand he had extended into a fist and rested it atop his kneeling thigh.

Tightening his grip, he pressed his lips together and silently calculated the years Beatrice had suffered under Angela’s torment.

It had been long enough that he could easily scoff at Angela’s current misery and say it was well-deserved.

As he looked at Angela, Kalian finally spoke as if resigning himself to the truth.

“……You won’t hear it.”

His voice carried a sigh, as if he hoped the wind would carry his words away.

But no matter how gently he said it, the underlying truth could not be hidden—after everything she had done to Yvonne and Beatrice, did she really think they would forgive her so easily?

Angela must have understood that. And yet, she remained completely still. There was a fierce determination in the way she held her posture, an unyielding stubbornness that refused to take even a single step back.

A gust of cold wind blew past, tousling Angela’s long hair.

“I’ll find another way to get Mary out.”

Growing anxious, Kalian spoke hastily.

Still, Angela gave no reply.

Her silence was an unwavering rejection.

As the quiet protest stretched on, Kalian finally stood and, without asking for permission, lifted Angela into his arms.

“!?”

Before she could react, Angela was already being carried, her body instinctively clinging to Kalian’s neck.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?!”

Her hurried voice landed near Kalian’s ear, their proximity forcing her lips dangerously close.

But this time, Kalian didn’t answer.

“Put me down! Right now!”

As Angela struggled, Kalian tightened his hold as if to tell her to stay still, then strode toward the mansion.

But when Angela continued to resist, he turned his gaze on her and issued a warning.

“You’ll get hurt if you fall.”

Angela immediately went still.

Not because she feared falling.

—

Yvonne gazed out the window, unblinking, as she watched Kalian carry Angela inside the mansion.

“Hic… hnn…”

Behind her, Beatrice’s familiar sobs filled the room.

Once again, the reason for her tears was Angela.

Angela always made her daughter cry.

Yvonne had told Angela to beg for forgiveness, yet she had only made Beatrice cry and sent her away in tears.

“M-mother… can’t you just… let that girl Mary go…? The lady—”

“She is not a lady, Beatrice.”

Only after Angela and Kalian had disappeared completely did Yvonne finally tear her gaze from the garden.

She turned and approached Beatrice, who was still sniffling on the sofa.

“Angela is no longer the mistress we serve.”

Sitting beside Beatrice, Yvonne gently took her daughter’s hands in hers. But despite the tenderness of her actions, her voice was firm.

“There’s no need to bow to her anymore.”

“But…!”

“You’ll have to see that face for the rest of your life. If you don’t break her now, you’ll end up crying every day. And I don’t want to see my daughter cry anymore.”

Beatrice looked up at Yvonne, who was dabbing her damp eyes with a handkerchief.

Yvonne’s expression was filled with sorrow for her daughter, yet when it came to Angela, there was not a hint of hesitation or inner conflict.

For some reason, that scared Beatrice.

She knew she shouldn’t feel this way about the mother who cherished her above all else, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this wasn’t right.

As she struggled to stop her tears, Yvonne muttered bitterly, “It’s all because of that wretched girl…”

Beatrice bit her lip, silently wishing for her tears to stop.

—

Angela had fought stubbornly against Kalian’s attempts to force her into bed, but in the end, she relented and slipped beneath the covers.

Her gaze, filled with confusion, remained fixed on Kalian’s back as he personally lit the fireplace.

“Shouldn’t you be clapping your hands with joy that I decided to apologize to Yvonne and Beatrice? So why are you acting like this?”

Her voice carried pure bewilderment.

Kalian remained silent, feeding more logs into the crackling flames.

The scenery of Bilton Mansion had been the same every day until the moment Kalian, now the Count of Florence, left it behind.

Angela would torment Beatrice.

Beatrice would cry.

Then Yvonne, overwhelmed by sorrow, would despair.

Amid all of that, Kalian had always dreamed of a day when Angela would sincerely apologize to Yvonne and Beatrice.

He had imagined her seeking forgiveness, being forgiven, and then, when peace finally settled over them all… he would be free to love Angela without restraint.

That dream had finally come true today.

By all logic, he should be clapping with joy, just as Angela said.

He should be encouraging her to kneel a little longer, to endure until Beatrice forgave her.

Yet, the moment he saw her like that, the only thing Kalian felt was sheer despair.

Would it have made any difference if it hadn’t been in the cold garden but in a room warmed by a fireplace?

Would it have mattered if it had been on a thick carpet instead of on the freezing ground, which threatened to numb her knees?

Kalian went through all sorts of hypotheticals, but the answer remained the same.

He didn’t want to see it.

He never wanted to see Angela kneeling and begging for forgiveness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───