Chapter 6
“I brought the water, Your Grace.”
Upon seeing the maid who came in with the water, Caligo furrowed his brow. It was Emily, the maid who had always treated Helia with disdain.
“How long have you been working here?”
“It’s been about 10 years, Your Grace.”
“10 years?”
He narrowed his eyes. It implied that he knew about her for the past 6 years.
“Seems like the servants don’t react well.”
For whatever reason, showing such reactions to the master seemed odd.
“Was there any trouble in your past?”
“Trouble?”
“Did anything happen in your previous home?”
“Incidents?”
Her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.
“Yes, and the servants’ attitude toward her was unbelievably low.”
Caligo criticized the servants in front of him.
Emily’s face flushed red and she hesitantly raised her head.
“That’s not true at all! On the contrary, the masters were always so kind to her!”
Emily spoke urgently.
Caligo scrutinized her face. She didn’t seem to be lying.
“I’m truly sorry to say this, but she actually had quite a lot of accidents.”
“Accidents?”
“Yes, she sometimes killed the dogs she raised, or used drugs. The reason we gave her a separate room wasn’t for nothing.”
Emily spoke with a face full of injustice, clenching her fists tightly.
The Marquis and his wife often scolded Helia, but that was because she deserved it. At least, that’s what Emily firmly believed.
“You’ve seen it too, Your Grace. Whenever someone touches her, she reacts violently. That’s why I tried to avoid touching her.”
Caligo couldn’t deny it.
She did act like that. Whenever he tried to touch her, even slightly, she would glare at him as if he were filthy and shunned his touch.
It seemed like she hated being touched, as if she found it repulsive.
She always seemed to tolerate it as if she were enduring something unbearable.
“…Was there really nothing in her past?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. She was simply born that way, Your Grace.”
Caligo opened and closed his mouth.
There was no sign of lying. It didn’t seem much different from what he had found out.
After all, why wouldn’t he investigate her before marriage?
They had lived together for 5 years, so naturally, he had looked into her. The outward reputation of the Marquis and his wife was excellent, while Helia’s reputation was among the worst of the worst.
“I would like to speak to Mrs. Hanjang. Please bring her here.”
“…Yes, Your Grace.”
Emily hesitated before quickly leaving the room.
Caligo sighed, crossing his arms.
He didn’t like investigating his wife’s past like a criminal investigation.
However, despite several attempts at conversation, she either ignored him or didn’t respond. Most of the time, she simply brushed it off, saying there was nothing.
To him, Helia seemed like someone accustomed to enduring alone, someone who could handle anything alone, no matter how difficult.
He felt uncomfortable listening any longer. He now had no choice but to dismiss Estella.
Helia was a wicked woman wherever she went.
She was cold and selfish. Her reputation was bad, and there were as many people who hated her as there were stars in the sky.
Caligo knew that well. He just confirmed it once again.
Still, it was frustrating.
He slowly closed his eyes and sank deep into the chair.
When Caligo met Helia again, it was close to midnight.
She rarely came to see him.
Tap.
It was a quiet and small knock. It was easy to tell who it was.
She never did anything grand. Her knock, her movements, her voice were always small and concise.
She couldn’t stand anything noisy, as if she were a person with a phobia.
“Sorry for the late hour.”
“You came to find me, so I guess I’ll have to check if the sun rises in the west tomorrow morning.”
“…You didn’t have to say it like that; I’ll leave.”
“I wasn’t nitpicking; I was just intrigued. Please, come in.”
As he motioned for her to enter, she straightened her posture and stepped inside.
Suddenly, her upright posture reminded him of the stern demeanor of the maid he had seen earlier.
“Did you receive etiquette training from the maid?”
His question was merely out of curiosity, an effort to somehow prevent the descent into awkward silence.
For a moment, her eyes hardened.
Helia, who had managed to maintain her composure, tensed her lips.
“Why do you ask?”
Her voice was clearly irritated.
“It’s because of the resemblance in posture.”
He blurted out as an excuse, causing her expression to grow fiercer.
Seeing the annoyance seep into her stoic face, Caligo fell silent.
“Thank you for bringing me here. I just came to confirm when I’ll be leaving.”
“My parents are visiting my estate, so I’ll be staying here for a while. Probably for a couple of months, at least.”
Helia’s eyes narrowed slightly.
She always did that. When she felt uncomfortable, she wouldn’t speak. Instead, she would furrow her brow, purse her lips, and turn away as if enduring something unbearable.
“No, I’ll leave in two weeks. Until then, I’ll stay in this room.”
“Understood. Is there anything I can assist you with?”
“No, there isn’t.”
Cold voice, cold tone.
Caligo once again observed her back.
The two of them were always like this.
Helia would turn her back, and Caligo would turn his head away.
He disliked this gap between them. Perhaps she would never know how miserable it made people.
“There’s not much time left until the divorce.”
If she didn’t get pregnant, then so be it.
Even if a child didn’t come within the deadline, he had no intention of continuing this marriage further.
“I should have adopted instead.”
Perhaps she would have thought the same. Despite their efforts to get closer and mend things, the distance between them was too great.
Helia, returning from Helios to Hilia Rychiano, would become the mistress of the Rychiano noble family.
Since she would finally get what she had desired so much, it wouldn’t be a loss.
He couldn’t deny that she had sold her five years of self-respect to obtain it.
Caligo couldn’t bring himself to say that she had blocked the purse strings of the Rychiano Marquis solely for this purpose.
“What are you?”
As he watched her walk away, he took out a poem and asked.
Before he could ignite the poem, before his eyes, she hesitated like a flash in the pan, furrowing her brow and coughing softly.
After a long while, he sighed and folded the poem.
He didn’t even know how many discarded poems there were.
