Chapter 21
“Damn it, Inette! I told you to eat already!”
A disheveled woman with curly hair screamed at me.
Thud!
The dull sound of her foot kicking the table leg was terrifying. My body trembled in fear.
Tears trickled into my mouth, tasting salty.
I struggled hard to hold back the sobs.
‘If I cry out loud, she’ll hit me again.’
I stretched out my sleeve and wiped the corners of my eyes. Then I replied:
“…I’m sorry, Mom.”
Mom.
That woman was my mother. But we didn’t have a normal mother-daughter relationship.
“I’m never satisfied with anything you do!”
She had endless complaints. She hated the world, resented her fate, and despised me.
I learned just how much a person could hate another through the way she treated me.
“Hic.”
I forced myself to take a spoonful of thin soup. It was practically garbage made from food scraps.
The foul taste made me gag, but I endured it. I quickly checked her reaction.
There was a fleeting look of satisfaction on her twisted face.
“Ugh!”
Eventually, I gagged from drinking the soup.
Before I could even glance her way, she smacked the back of my head, slamming my forehead into the bowl.
“You don’t know how precious food is! You’re truly hopeless! Go wash your face now!”
She yanked me up and shoved me toward the bathroom.
Half of it felt like I was being dragged, but it was still better than having to finish that revolting soup. While washing my face, I thought:
‘How much longer do I have to live with her?’
I wanted to escape. I wanted to forget.
Just then, I heard the creak of the door from outside, followed by my mother’s voice.
“Siena. Where have you been?”
Ah, Siena was home. I immediately got up.
And at the same time—my eyes opened.
“Huff… huff…”
My head throbbed like it was about to split open. I reached out toward the nightstand for painkillers—but of course, there was no nightstand.
‘That’s right…’
This wasn’t the Estarion Count’s house where I used to live. This was the residence of Duke Calypso.
I clutched my head and waited for the throbbing pain to subside. It always happened after one of those dreams.
‘I can never remember what they’re about.’
That much was always the same. I’d have an awful dream, but the moment I woke, nothing would come to mind.
‘Just what kind of dream is it…?’
Could it be related to the memories I’d lost?
Whatever the reason for my memory loss, the aftermath of those dreams suggested they were horrific.
“Miss, are you alright?”
Sophie entered the room and asked in alarm. She was holding breakfast and medicine.
“A headache. Could you give me the medicine first?”
“Of course. Here.”
After taking the pills Sophie handed me, the pain gradually subsided. I was finally able to breathe a little easier.
“Haa…”
“Miss, did something happen?”
“This happens from time to time. I’m okay.”
But Sophie didn’t seem entirely convinced. After finishing breakfast, I freshened up.
“I think you should rest a bit more today.”
“I can’t stay in bed forever. Besides, thanks to the Duke’s care, I’ve recovered enough.”
Even after leaving the Inquisition, I had sudden fevers and muttered nonsense at night.
It was likely from accumulated fatigue and psychological trauma.
Despite knowing all that, Duke Calypso had supported me.
His kindness wasn’t something to be easily explained away by motives of gain—it had a sincere edge to it.
‘I should repay his kindness by teaching diligently.’
Soon, the first lesson was set to begin. It would be held in the study.
Since I didn’t know the way, Sophie guided me.
Ever since I arrived at the mansion, I’d been bedridden in the guest room, so I hadn’t seen much of the place.
Now that I was walking through it, I noticed something.
‘It feels so neglected.’
The entire place was weighed down by a gloomy, lifeless atmosphere, like a home in mourning.
The ceiling was full of cobwebs, and the wooden floor was rotting in patches.
The windows were caked in dust, and the garden was overrun with weeds—nothing in this mansion seemed properly maintained.
‘Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any servants.’
So far, the only people I’d encountered were Sir Aiden and Sophie.
It probably hadn’t been long since the imperial family granted the mansion to Sir Aiden.
Still, the lack of staff made me worry that Sophie might be overburdened. I imagined Sir Aiden must have his share of inconveniences too.
‘But it’s not my place to interfere. That’d be overstepping.’
Old habits from managing the Estarion household were hard to shake, so I found myself pondering possible solutions.
While lost in thought, we arrived at the study.
This mansion had originally belonged to another noble family before being absorbed into the imperial holdings when their lineage ended.
The imperial family, finding maintenance costs too burdensome, had passed it on to Sir Aiden.
Perhaps due to its long history, the study was filled with ancient books.
Some of them looked like they would’ve been discarded if not for minimal upkeep.
‘It’ll be tough for Sir Aiden to study at this level.’
Fortunately, he didn’t need to reference any books right away.
I made a mental note to visit the central bookstore on the weekend to buy some appropriate materials—when Sir Aiden appeared.
Looking slightly flushed, he gave me a casual smile.
“You’re early.”
“I could say the same to you, Sir Aiden.”
He sat down comfortably at a spot he liked.
He brought exactly what I had requested beforehand—a blank notebook, a quill, and ink.
He awkwardly opened the notebook and picked up the quill, writing a few letters.
“This is ‘eh,’ ‘ee,’ and ‘eu,’ right?”
I sat across from him and checked what he had written.
“Because there’s only a vowel before ‘ee,’ it’s pronounced that way. Normally, the ‘ee’ sound comes from this one.”
I pulled out my own quill and wrote the correct spellings in the notebook.
“I’ll teach you step by step from the beginning. Starting with vowels…”
Thus began our lesson, with me explaining everything carefully.
The first class with Sir Aiden flowed smoothly.
“Yes, that’s right. Pronunciation usually changes based on the consonants before and after the vowel. Let’s review now.”
“Let me try reading this… ‘charyo’… no, ‘chiry—’ ah, ‘chiryŏ’!”
“Yes, correct. It’s ‘chiryŏ.’”
He slowly sounded out each word, repeating them as practice.
When the clock hand shifted, Sir Aiden dropped the quill with a weary expression.
“My head’s about to explode. Let’s take a ten-minute break.”
“Alright.”
He slumped back in his chair, nearly lying down.
Sitting still and focusing must’ve been quite a challenge for someone not used to studying.
Sir Aiden crossed his arms out of habit, while I pressed my fingers against my temples.
“You look tired. Are you not sleeping well?”
“Just a little.”
“Insomnia, huh? Turns out our tutor is more sensitive than I thought. Well, considering everything you’ve been through…”
“…”
“Is it uncomfortable for me to bring up your family?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Then I won’t mention it again.”
“You don’t need to tiptoe around it.”
“So you won’t avoid the topic?”
“My expulsion and removal from the family registry is well-known in the capital. Though the details may be unclear.”
“So… what are those details?”
His playful smile was sly. The faint scar across his cheek, folding like a dimple, made him look even more mischievous.
‘Just how much does he know?’
He knew I had entered the Inquisition.
The Crown Prince was tied to the Estarion household, and Amelia, who was my friend, must’ve informed him.
But Sir Aiden was neither of those—so how did he know the exact day I was released and come find me?
‘How much does he actually know? Has he been keeping an eye on the Estarion family? But why?’
As I quietly observed his face, still carrying the marks of a rugged life, he scratched his cheek and clicked his tongue lightly.
“Geez, is there something on my face?”
“How did you get the scar on your cheek?”
“Oh, this?”
A long scar traced along his right cheek, sometimes fading or sharpening depending on the light.
As he moved his facial muscles, it stretched and flattened with every smile.
Whenever he lifted the corners of his mouth, the scar resembled a dimple—oddly charming.
“It’s a mark of honor.”
He had earned it on the battlefield, a wound from a notable skirmish…
