~Chapters 51~
The First Person on My Side
“I’ve prepared something new,” he said.
Once again, footsteps echoed—but they didn’t belong to the Duke of Astria.
Now that she thought about it, ever since she arrived, there had been a servant standing in one corner of the study, holding a large wooden box. She’d wondered about it at first. It turned out the Duke had prepared it even before she arrived.
Snap! A sharp snap of fingers rang in her ears.
Recognizing it as a signal from her father, Eleanor obediently raised her head. Then she looked at what was inside the box the servant had brought.
It was a whip.
A thin and stiff whip—one usually reserved for punishing a servant guilty of a serious crime.
“Father, this is…”
“Yes, Ellie. The switch is quite a bit larger than before, isn’t it? That means it will hurt more, and the pain will last longer. It’ll take a long time for the wounds to heal.”
His whispering voice was so gentle that anyone who didn’t know better might think he was actually worried about her.
“But I’m sure that once the wounds finally heal, you’ll make another mistake. I know that for certain—as your father.”
You really know me well, Father.
Eleanor almost said that aloud. Luckily—or unluckily—the servants had already grabbed her arms and pinned her down, keeping her from speaking.
“So, I’ll make sure to strike the same spot again whenever it heals.”
The Duke’s face, which Eleanor met as she looked up, was still as cold and cruel as ever—hard to believe it was the face of a father looking at his child.
“So you never forget. So you’ll never even think of rebelling again.”
A primal fear surged up inside her. Eleanor clenched her teeth so tightly it felt like they might shatter, trying to suppress the terror that made her whole body tremble.
They say if you can’t avoid something, try to enjoy it. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to enjoy the pain that was coming.
But there was just one thing that could slightly ease her fear—a desperate resolve. She would turn this pain into fuel for her revenge, no matter what.
“Don’t worry. You’re such a conservative girl that your future husband won’t even see the scars until after the wedding.”
Even now, her father still mentioned marriage. Eleanor scoffed internally.
Suddenly, she thought of Karsian.
The way he had looked at her—like she was precious, someone important. The way his voice had been so gently affectionate, to a degree she couldn’t understand. That memory lingered in her mind.
If he knew I was someone like this… what would he do?
Would he change his mind, thinking she was nothing more than a pitiful, shameful girl? Would he just offer pity, like tossing a coin to a beggar?
Whatever the case, she absolutely didn’t want him to see her like this.
Being pinned down by servants, biting on an expensive handkerchief, and moaning like an animal with every lash of the whip…
That filthy image—that she could never allow him to see.
The horrific and painful ordeal dragged on slowly.
“Master! Please, forgive the young lady! If you must, beat me instead! Please, sir…!”
From outside the door, Hilda screamed in desperation. But after a while, her voice faded. It seemed Ernst had taken her away, worried for her well-being.
That’s a relief, Eleanor thought, briefly. But she had no time to dwell on it before the next strike came.
Whack!
“Ugh…! Aahhh!”
Whip, slash!
“Aaaaaah—!”
When the endless lashes finally stopped and her white legs were completely covered in bright red marks, Eleanor was already half-conscious.
“Take her away.”
The Duke ordered like he was disposing of trash. The servants picked her up and carried her to her room. Shortly after, the family’s physician came and began treating her wounds.
“Ugh! Ahhh, aaah…!”
It felt like a new torture was beginning. Especially when her torn thighs were disinfected—the pain was so intense she couldn’t help but twist her whole body and scream.
After a long struggle with the pain, the treatment was finally over. Only then could Eleanor feel a slight sense of relief.
To be more accurate, it wasn’t really relief—it was like being seriously ill. Her head was foggy, her whole body burned like it had been thrown into a fire, and even breathing felt like a task.
She suffered for a long time in high fever pain before finally losing consciousness.
At some point, the fever began to drop. In her sleep, she could feel something cool and damp being gently wiped across her skin.
Her groaning slowly faded. As her temperature fell, even breathing became a little easier.
She had fallen into a deep sleep, like she’d passed out—and only after a long while did Eleanor finally open her eyes.
“Young miss! You’re awake?”
The first thing she saw was Hilda’s weary face. Even through her blurry vision, Eleanor could tell that the area around Hilda’s eyes was dark, her cheeks sunken. She looked terrible.
“Where… am I?”
“Don’t get up! You shouldn’t push yourself too hard.”
It was only after she felt a burning sensation in her legs that Eleanor realized the situation. As painful memories rushed in, she instinctively clenched her hands into fists.
“You have to be careful there too. The skin is completely scraped…”
Hilda quickly stopped her, and when Eleanor looked down, she saw that her palms were badly swollen, just as Hilda had said. It seemed that, during her punishment, she had been desperately digging into her own skin with her nails to endure the pain.
Eleanor took a deep breath and turned her head toward the balcony. The sun was still bright outside.
‘It must have been around noon when I arrived at Father’s study…’
It couldn’t have been just a short time. That meant…
“You’ve been unconscious for a full day. Your fever went up so high… it was really dangerous.”
When she turned her head back, Hilda’s mournful face was there, and Ernst was standing nearby, probably having rushed in after hearing her voice.
A whole day of sleep, Eleanor murmured in a daze.
As she slowly scanned the room, she saw bowls of water, towels, and bottles of medicine scattered around her bedside. The signs of the previous night’s suffering were clearly visible.
The servants and the physician, who were likely busy trying to stay in the good graces of the Duke, hadn’t helped her. From the dark shadows under Hilda’s eyes, Eleanor could tell that Hilda had been the one to take care of her all night.
“Thank you, Hilda. You’ve had a lot of trouble because of me.”
“Thank you? How… how could you say that?”
“Hilda?”
Eleanor was startled when she saw Hilda suddenly kneel beside the bed.
Tears fell down Hilda’s face, and as Eleanor watched in shock, she realized just how much Hilda had been crying.
“Why… why are you crying, Hilda? Is it because you’re too tired? If so, you can go rest.”
As Eleanor reached out in rush, Hilda shook her head, gently grabbing Eleanor’s hand and placing her own hand on top. Her toughened palm desperately caressed Eleanor’s hand.
Eleanor looked closely at Hilda’s face, and it was far worse than she had imagined. Hilda’s eyes were swollen, and her face looked exhausted, as if she had been crying for a long time.
“If it’s because you’re worried about me, I’m really okay—”
“I didn’t know, young lady.”
Hilda’s voice, full of emotion, interrupted Eleanor.
“I didn’t understand why you were acting the way you were…”
Hilda lowered her head, her small shoulders trembling.
Eleanor, still not understanding what Hilda was trying to say, looked at her with a worried expression.
“Even though you’re so smart, why… why didn’t you try to completely drive Nora out of this mansion, instead of using another method? I honestly didn’t understand until now.”
Eleanor’s body froze in realization. Hilda knew my goal.
Hilda had figured out that Eleanor’s plan was to take revenge on those she hated, and then leave the estate once she had gained her position.
Eleanor’s body stiffened, but Hilda slowly raised her head, her eyes glistening with tears. Her blue eyes locked onto Eleanor’s.
“This place was hell, wasn’t it?”
Thump. Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat.
Hilda’s tears flowed as she spoke, her words cutting deep into Eleanor’s heart.
“You’ve been living in hell all this time.”
That’s why… she understood. Eleanor’s mind went blank, unable to respond.
This was the first time anyone had understood her situation. The first person to truly empathize with how she felt about living in this hellish estate. It was Hilda, and she was the only one.
Nora, who had stayed by her side for so long, and even the kind-hearted head maid Mary, had never understood her. To everyone else, the name Astria was only a noble and special one.
Eleanor had never voiced her pain in front of anyone because she knew others would just see it as trivial complaints from someone who had everything. But Hilda was different. She wasn’t looking at her through the lens of Astria’s status. She was looking at Eleanor—only Eleanor.
“Ah.”
A small sob escaped Eleanor’s lips.
At the same time, a warm tear slipped from beneath her eye. Eleanor didn’t even realize she was crying as she trembled.
“Please… please be happy, young lady.”
Hilda’s tear fell and, like a wave, it overwhelmed her. Unable to hold back anymore, Hilda burst into tears, desperately pleading.
“No matter where you are, no matter how you are, please… please be happy.”
“Hilda…”
“I just want to stay by your side when you’re truly happy. That’s my wish, young lady.”
Hilda bent down, burying her face in the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. She still held onto Eleanor’s hand with desperate strength.
Eleanor embraced her, holding Hilda tightly.
The two women, fragile and small, clung to each other, their tears flowing endlessly. The warmth of their skin, pressing together, eased the unbearable sorrow in Eleanor’s heart, providing a kind of comfort she had never known.
Ernst quietly turned and stood guard at the door, ensuring that no one would disturb their precious moment together.
An hour passed, and Hilda’s sobs finally quieted down.
By this time, Hilda had climbed into the bed next to Eleanor. When Eleanor noticed this, she hurriedly tried to get up, but Hilda gently held her back.
“Will you stay by my side today? I think it will help me heal faster.”
Eleanor looked up at her with pleading eyes, and Hilda reluctantly agreed.
“Such charm should be saved for the Duke of Royster, not me.”
Though Hilda joked, her expression was much brighter than before.
The two of them lay together, chatting like children.
The conversation was light and mostly about trivial things—things like their food preferences or travel destinations. In the past, Eleanor would have considered such topics a waste of time, but now she realized that these small talks brought her a sense of calm.
As they continued chatting and laughing, Eleanor almost forgot the dull pain she had been feeling. Grateful for this, she smiled softly at Hilda and decided to ask something she had been wondering for a while.
“Hilda, why are you being so kind to me? I haven’t done anything for you.”
Gosh that scumbag must suffer the most painful same with Nora 😤