Chapter 63
The paper fluttered and fell from Debert’s hand. Before it could even reach the desk in the study, the wind blowing in through the open window snatched it away.
Debert simply watched as the newsletter was carried off into the winter wind.
“I trust your rest in the Burnt Sanctuary was peaceful,” asked the butler, Oliver, who had brought the newsletter.
“Yes,” Debert replied lightly.
The desk where he handled administrative matters was piled high with backlogged paperwork in his brief absence.
The scratching sound of the pen tip against the paper echoed in the silent study.
“Are you alright, sir?”
“I see no reason why I would not be.”
Despite Oliver’s concerned inquiry, having surely read the newsletter first, his young master responded calmly.
“Whoever sees it will think the newsletter is referring to you, sir.”
“This might actually be for the best.”
The butler remained silent.
“At least, no one will dare treat you carelessly now, wherever you go.”
“Are you referring to him?”
“Have you completed the task I asked you to do earlier?”
Debert slowly rose from his seat. The duke, clad only in a shirt, appeared more relaxed than when outside.
His serene expression was at odds with the vulgar gossip of the newsletter. Even the butler might have doubted if the initials belonged to Debert and not someone else.
“Yes, the furnishings arrived just before your return.”
“Let me see.”
Debert’s steps led him to the bedchamber, his hand gripping the back of his neck with force.
Since returning from the Burnt, he had not once entered this room. His only respite had been dozing on the sofa late into the night or briefly resting in the bathtub.
The servants stationed in the corridor opened the bedroom door in unison, matching Debert’s stride.
Debert paused briefly to gaze at the military jacket hanging by the bed.
“Is there anything else you need, sir?”
“No. Open the passage.”
Debert gestured towards the corridor leading to the duchess’s chambers.
When Cassius was alive, a massive wooden partition had been nailed across this corridor, preventing the duke and duchess from visiting each other. It was the only place in this manor that Debert’s steps had never reached.
The butler nodded, instructing the servants to open the door.
“Since it had been blocked for so long, we’ve done new construction work.”
True to the butler’s words, the corridor, now freed of the partition, carried the scent of fresh wood.
“Does it meet your approval?”
Debert’s gaze slowly swept the room. It was the duchess’s chambers, a place he could barely recall.
Perhaps even this was a place his steps had never reached.
Unlike the duke’s study, dominated by dark wooden frames, the duchess’s chambers were flooded with light, as if drawing in all the brightness of the manor.
Sunlight poured in through the expansive windows, and the pristine white canopy bed made the room appear even more luminous.
From the small tea table to the vanity, and the faint floral fragrance – it was a far cry from the darkness that Debert seemed to embody.
“The colours are as you specified.”
“I see.”
The pale blue hues made the room feel more soothing.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Though the praise was dry, the butler bowed in gratitude.
“However…”
Debert walked to the window and threw it wide open, allowing a cool breeze to sweep in.
“The artificial fragrance does not quite suit this place.”
“I’ll make a note of that.”
Debert gazed down from the window.
‘It’s a bit high to climb up.’
‘Come down.’
This was the exact height – where he had weakly asked Beth, peering down from the isolation room, to descend, exposing his back in an attempt to sway her heart.
Debert gripped the back of his neck again. The throbbing headache that had plagued him now stabbed his head like a knife.
“Is it okay if you don’t eat it?”
The butler asked without mentioning the subject, ‘medicine.’
Debert sat on the windowsill, brushing his wind-tousled hair back. His bloodshot eyes were further reddened by the dry wind.
“The rightful owner of this room will be arriving soon.”
His voice was stubborn and firm.
“Tend to it well until then.”
As he left the room, Debert glanced back one more time.
His eyes lingered on the familiar scene, as if the lost face of Beth was etched there.
“How has Mrs. Cliff been?”
“I presume you are referring to the late Duchess of Cliff.”
The butler quickly responded. Debert had never once inquired about his mother’s existence, so even the seasoned butler could not hide his surprise.
“She passed away early, but in her lifetime, she was said to be more beautiful than even the Empress. Her sense of aesthetics set the trends for Nexus’ ladies. She had impeccable taste.”
“Is that so.”
His dry murmur held no trace of affection.
Debert recalled the appearance of Beth. Aside from when she had borrowed a friend’s clothes, she had always worn the worn-out nurse’s uniform.
Beth and a sense of aesthetics.
A genuine laugh, long absent, escaped Debert’s lips.
The bewildered servants and butler cautiously observed their master.
“Ah, something just occurred to me.”
Debert smoothed his lips, containing his laughter.
The duke’s steps as he turned to leave were noticeably lighter than before.
“See to it that appropriate dresses and accessories befitting the Duchess of Cliff are procured as well.”
* * *
“Bring him out and check if he’s hiding anything!”
At the man’s bellow, the cowering boy limped out from the corner.
Whenever Beth refused to obey the man, he would beat the boy. Beth had scratched and clawed at him, and when that failed, even resorted to slamming her head against the wall, but ultimately had to crawl and beg on her knees.
Please, don’t hurt the boy.
She could endure the pain herself, but seeing the young child huddled up and enduring the merciless violence was unbearable.
As the dilapidated door slammed shut, the boy shakily approached Beth. Beth took a step back as he reached out to touch her.
“I’m a woman. Don’t worry, I’ll just check.”
Her voice was hoarse.
With her short hair and thin frame, she looked more like a boy than a girl at first glance.
The girl carefully ran her hands along Beth’s neck, shoulders, and ribs. Her hand paused near Beth’s hips.
The girl’s hand slipped into Beth’s dress pocket. What emerged was a gold brooch bearing the Nexus insignia. The girl stared at it blankly, then tucked the brooch back into Beth’s pocket.
“Don’t let them find out.”
It was a soft murmur.
Beth met the gaze of the girl, who was slightly taller than her. The girl who had discovered Beth on the train had been with her ever since. Apparently, the man had assigned her to keep an eye on Beth.
“I’ll cover your eyes.”
The girl took Beth’s hand that was covering her eyes and led her out of the room.
“There’s nothing?!”
The girl made no answer.
In that moment, a rough hand forced something into Beth’s mouth.
“!”
The bitter taste accompanied the unpleasant sensation. The hand clamping her mouth shut did not belong to the girl. As Beth tried to tear the hand away, her body soon went limp.
Beth struggled to regain her senses.
She tried to thrash her body, hoping to bash her head against the wall, but her limbs refused to obey her. Beth collapsed back onto the bed, her surroundings growing dark.
It had been a gruelling ordeal.
After the man had left, the blindfolded Beth was moved to a new location.
Unlike the previous damp, musty basement, this place was different. The bed was plush, and the bedding carried a pleasant fragrance. Most importantly, the girl was nowhere to be seen.
But it was still a nightmare.
The man would come once a day, coercing Beth to comply with his demands. Beth would try to ram her head into his nose or stab his hand with a pen, but such defiance never lasted long.
Not when the man brought the girl back.
‘Since you were little, you’ve had to watch her suffer because of you.’
The man beat the girl. His movements were even more savage than before.
Beth could only nod her head and collapse to the floor, begging to do anything, as she was now accustomed to seeing the girl get hurt in her place.
‘It’s up to you. Whether you save your mother and this child, or let them die.’
After that day, the man did not return. Instead, a silver tray with medicine arrived.
Taking the medicine would bring drowsiness and mental fog. Her judgment became hazy, and she lost all sense of time.
Even Beth, who had previously refused to take the medicine, crumbled when the girl whispered, “If the tray isn’t emptied, I’ll get hit again.”
Beth swallowed the medicine, again and again, telling herself:
This medicine isn’t killing her.
Her own thoughts are killing me.
She’ll escape. She won’t miss the chance.
As she drifted off to sleep, she murmured the words to herself.
One night, when she briefly regained clarity, the lamp in the room was lit for the first time. Beth stared at the small, precious light for a long while.
She pushed herself up from the bed and sat at the table. Beckoning to the girl sitting far away, the hesitant girl approached.
[What’s your name?]
Her hand trembled as she wrote, perhaps an effect of the drugs.
“Name…”
The girl fidgeted with her hands, her small, beak-like lips stuttering out the answer.
“I don’t have one.”
Beth stared at the girl blankly for a moment. There was something familiar about her.
Ah, now she understood why the cunning man had attached this child to her.
To manipulate my guilt and get what he wants.
[Then shall I give you a name?]
“A name…?”
A spark of interest lit up the girl’s usually vacant eyes.
Beth’s lips trembled. Her strength was depleted, making even a smile difficult, but if she could just reassure the girl.
[Luca]
“…Does it have a meaning?”
At the girl’s curious question, the first sign of her age, Beth gripped the pen tighter as it kept slipping.
[It means you can go wherever you wish to]
“Luca…”
[It’s a name to symbolize flying free, without any constraints]
The girl murmured “Luca” a few times, shyly nodding her head.
“I like it. Luca…”
In the flickering lamplight, the letters of “Luca” wavered.
