SWMD Chapter 8

Chapter 8

After sending Catherine away, Diana leaned back in her chair with a light heart, leisurely reading a book.

“Your Grace, it’s Shane.”

Upon hearing Shane’s voice from outside, she promptly closed the book.

“Come in.”

With her permission, Shane entered the room. Following behind him was an unfamiliar woman.

She had hair like the clear autumn sky and eyes the color of autumn leaves, which matched her appearance perfectly.

At the sight of the unfamiliar figure, Diana tilted her head slightly. Shane calmly explained.

“This is Belinda, the knight you requested. She’s unofficially registered.”

“To be precise, I was registered, but I was dismissed,” Belinda added cheerfully, as if being dismissed was no big deal.

Diana smiled gently and asked, “Why were you dismissed?”

“I refused a bribe. A noble asked me to overlook his crime.”

That explained her confidence. Diana looked at Shane, who nodded in agreement.

“We grew up together. She’s quite skilled. A bit hot-tempered, though.”

“Shane!”

Belinda scratched her head, slightly embarrassed.

Someone with such convictions could certainly be trusted, Diana thought.

“Alright, Belinda. I will officially hire you—as my secret guard.”

“I’ve heard many things about Your Grace’s reputation,” Belinda said, her eyes sparkling as if meeting a celebrity.

“Actually, I grew up in the orphanage under your marquissate.”

“Really?” Diana’s eyes widened in delight.

Before her marriage, she had frequently visited that orphanage. With her father’s support, she would donate resources and even spend her own allowance to buy what the children needed.

Though she could no longer volunteer in person after her marriage, she had continued financial support.

“Yes. I trained often and never saw you personally, but I heard a lot about you from the director. They called you the Saint of Pereshte.”

“That’s a bit much.”

Hearing such praise made her feel embarrassed. Diana’s cheeks flushed red. She cleared her throat a couple of times and composed her voice.

To someone who still believed in her sainthood, it was necessary to offer a brief explanation of her current state.

“Belinda.”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“I’m not a saint. I’ve… given that up.”

“…Excuse me?”

When Shane first offered the position, Belinda had been thrilled at the thought of serving the famous Diana. But now, this declaration came out of nowhere.

“I’ll tell you what’s scarier than demons.”

“Hmm… I’m not sure, Your Grace.”

After thinking for a while, Belinda shook her head.

Diana, her voice low, recalled those who were less than human.

“Humans. Especially the ones with filthy desires.”

Belinda stared intently at Diana’s face. She could relate—she too had seen it firsthand. The grotesque sight of a noble committing a crime and then trying to buy his way out of punishment.

“You’ve experienced it too, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I have.”

“I intend to punish them.”

“Personally, Your Grace?”

Unlike her, Diana had the power of the Pereshte family and her own position. With that, punishing the guilty wasn’t out of reach.

As if reading her mind, Diana gave a small smile and replied slowly.

“Sometimes the law alone isn’t enough. And…”

Her tone turned bitter.

“…Sometimes, the punishment the law provides doesn’t match the weight of the crimes they committed.”

Diana clenched her fist tightly.

They deserved to suffer more. Paying a fine and enduring public scorn wasn’t nearly enough. They needed to feel a pain greater than what she had endured.

Then, Diana removed her blindfold.

Belinda looked confused—her eyes didn’t look as damaged as she expected.

With a gentle smile, Diana briefly explained the part of her story that Shane already knew.

After hearing it all, Belinda was enraged, as if it had happened to her personally.

“How could such a thing happen!”

Only now did everything make sense. Even someone once hailed as a saint couldn’t possibly endure betrayal from both her husband and closest friend without breaking.

The fact that Diana could speak so calmly and clearly about it all was simply astonishing.

“Belinda.”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Would you… do anything for me?”

Belinda’s eyes gleamed like those of a beast, filled with a sudden surge of justice.

She could not forgive those who had committed deeds worse than animals.

She stepped forward and knelt on one knee before Diana. With a determined expression, she declared:

“I swear my loyalty to you, Your Grace.”

At Belinda’s gesture, Diana’s own eyes sparked with resolve.

This was how she would begin—one step at a time, carefully laying the groundwork for her revenge.

There was no need to rush.

Though her mind was consumed with thoughts more brutal than anyone could imagine, the smile on Diana’s lips remained radiant—like that of an angel.

—

“Agh, this is so annoying!”

Back in her room, Catherine finally let her irritation explode. She threw objects around her room and screamed.

The Grand Duchess had been acting strange today. Maybe she was just touchy because of her blindness? Either way, it made Catherine fume with anger.

Until the age of ten, Catherine had believed, without a doubt, that she was Diana’s real daughter.

She thought herself a graceful noble girl, a perfect blend of her father and mother.

But one day, purely by accident, she witnessed the Duke kissing Alicia.

At first, her entire body trembled with betrayal directed at her father. She felt sorry for her mother.

Then Alicia approached her, tears in her eyes.

“Catherine.”

“How dare a mere physician—!”

“…You’re my daughter.”

“What?”

Catherine looked to Calypso, who only nodded silently. Her face twisted in horror.

It was impossible to believe. She couldn’t accept that she was the child of a lowly baron’s daughter who had had an affair.

Her hands trembled. Alicia gently took her hands and said,

“If it’s revealed that you’re not Diana’s real daughter, what do you think will happen to you?”

“…”

“You understand now, don’t you? Smart girl.”

She thought of Diana, who had always given her boundless love.

But could Diana still love her if she knew the truth? If she knew she was the daughter of a friend who had slept with her husband?

Catherine quickly made a choice. She changed how she addressed Diana—from “mother” to simply “Diana.”

Thus, the bond between Alicia and Catherine was reborn—as mother and daughter.

Eventually, Catherine asked Alicia about Diana’s real daughter.

“…Where is she?”

With a smirk, Alicia answered,

“She’s growing up among commoners. In utter filth.”

“In filth…”

“Yes. The filthier she grows up, the more noble you become. That’s how you’ll become the ‘true’ lady. You are the real one, Catherine.”

“I’m the ‘real one’…”

As she recalled that moment, Catherine’s eyes darkened.

She pushed a glass off the table. It shattered, shards scattering across the floor.

“Aicel!”

Staring down at the broken pieces, Catherine called out loudly, then slammed her bookshelf.

A hidden door slid open. Inside was a secret room that only she and Alicia knew about.

“…Yes.”

From the small opening, a girl no older than fifteen emerged—thin and frail. Her name was Aicel.

Catherine glared at her as if looking at Diana herself, then pointed at the shards with her finger.

“Clean it up.”

“…Yes, Your Grace.”

Aicel’s thin hands carefully began picking up the pieces. Catherine, intentionally, nudged one with her foot—cutting Aicel’s hand.

The girl looked up at her.

Through pale platinum hair, her vacant emerald eyes—so similar to Diana’s—stared back without a hint of malice.

“What’s that look? You got a problem, you filthy thing?”

“No, Your Grace.”

Catherine sneered as Aicel lowered her head again.

Of course not. After all, she had been “trained” since the age of ten.

Only Alicia and Catherine knew about Aicel’s existence. Not even Calypso knew—he thought Diana’s daughter had died.

When Catherine learned the truth, Alicia brought Aicel to her and said: ‘Have fun playing with her.’

As Aicel bent over, picking up the glass, Catherine smiled darkly.

‘The filthier that girl became, the nobler she herself would seem.’ Her mother’s words echoed in her ears.

Aicel was given nothing more than one piece of dry bread and some moldy milk a week.

That’s why she was smaller and frailer than other children her age.

Perfect. Just as Alicia and Catherine had planned. The child was growing up filthy.

Unlike herself—growing into the true and elegant noble lady.

“All done.”

“Good. Now get back in. Don’t come out until I call for you.”

“Yes… Your Grace.”

Aicel answered weakly and crawled back into the bookshelf. Her small body was covered in scars.

Whenever Catherine had a bad day, she took it out on Aicel.

There was no escape. On days she left the room, the bookshelf would be locked.

Her whole body ached. Aicel stared at the now-closed door of her tiny room.

But unlike usual, her dull, lifeless eyes had begun to shine with a new clarity.

A clarity that looked just like Diana’s.