Chapter 55
No need to accommodate the child's slow steps, so their pace quickened considerably.
Rider, who had been leaning against the butler with his mouth covered to stifle coughs, spoke up to break the silence. He had learned that providing a suitable conversation topic to a subordinate was also the role of a superior.
"Lady Rohanson... Are all noble ladies like that?"
And the topic on his mind right now was the person he had just seen. Lady Rohanson was truly strange. From a single strand of hair to a single eyelash, her excessive intricacy sent chills down the viewer's spine.
That delicacy rivaled the transparent glass craft depicting an angel in Rider's room. The person, who seemed made of hard glass, had greeted Rider gracefully.
"Do I have to become like that too?"
Her posture was perfect, as if every fingertip angle was consciously calculated and moved. Rider was deeply impressed that she had executed the greeting from the etiquette book flawlessly.
"...Who knows."
Rak trailed off.
Rak, who had devoted his life to the marquessate and met many nobles, had never encountered anyone like Evangeline. Having met various nobles, Rak could tell at a glance that Evangeline was not normal, but Rider was different. He had never interacted with other young noble children.
Children from noble families usually mingled with peers from a young age, but Rider could not.
He might not remember, but when Rider was even younger, the marchioness had often invited children from a countess she associated with. It was a natural attempt to give him friends his age.
However, a problem arose. The countess's children said to Rider, 'The curse is contagious.'
It's clear who had fed such words to the clueless children. The marchioness scolded them harshly and severed ties with the countess.
The countess's response at that time was quite the spectacle. She spat out a flurry of unrepeatable profanities in her agitation, but the gist was this: She had sent her own child, blessed by God, to play with a cursed, forsaken child, and how dare they get angry instead of appreciating that gesture.
After that, visitors to the marquessate became extremely rare. Once Rider's health worsened, they stopped receiving guests altogether, making Evangeline Rohanson the first visitor in three years.
"You don't need to become like that."
She wouldn't live long enough to reach Evangeline's age anyway. Rak swallowed the rest.
Even so, he felt a twinge of fear. There were rumors that Evangeline Rohanson had also been frail and cursed such that Holy Water had no effect. Yet now she walked around perfectly fine.
What if Rider one day overcame his innate frailty and turned out like Evangeline? It was a deeply unpleasant thought.
Unaware of Rak's thoughts, the cursed child kept chattering.
"I thought Lady Rohanson was an angel who came to take me away now that I'm dying."
Rak clicked his tongue inwardly. Evangeline Rohanson was no holy being worthy of such comparison, and it was all because the marchioness had planted such delusions in Rider.
An angel? How could a cursed wretch be embraced by God? As young as he was, it was pitiful, but Rider would find no rest even in death.
"Did you think so too, Butler?"
"I was frightened."
"Frightened?"
"Yes. I never want to face her again."
Rak felt fear beyond discomfort, perhaps due to the faint hope that Rider might grow up like that.
"You truly revere Toten Madam, don't you? You told me, a first-time visitor, all the marquessate's affairs today out of fear it might affect her."
His heart sank when she mocked him for insulting Toten Madam. She had pierced through Rak's filthy mind like stirring it up, so terror was inevitable.
Had she sensed something suspicious from his few words? Or had she already investigated behind the scenes? Had the marchioness noticed Rak's schemes and asked her to probe his intentions?
A flurry of thoughts swirled in his head.
Suspecting the marchioness might truly know, he deliberately informed the resting Rider of the guest to bring the three face-to-face. The marchioness still seemed ignorant of the truth, but she would soon hear it from Evangeline Rohanson herself.
However, with the child present, the marchioness could not act rashly. Rak gazed at the weakness in his arms, breathing shallowly.
"Anyone would think you're the master of the marquessate."
He had never dared such a thought. Rak simply resented the evidence that God had forsaken the marquessate he loved.
The wise marchioness, who cherished her territory's people, had been squandering the family fortune at the temple for her cursed son and holed up in the capital, neglecting her lands, for four years now.
Rak believed the late marquis's younger brother, Lauros, should succeed the family rather than the child who would soon die. That would benefit the marquessate far more.
One only needed to compare the marquessate's standing ten years ago, when the marquis was hale, to now.
By the time they finished sharing impressions of Evangeline Rohanson, they had arrived at the room. As Rak prepared to tuck the child in and leave, his clothes were grabbed.
"Butler. I want a lullaby."
He meant the one the marchioness always sang before bed.
He never acted spoiled with the butler usually, but he seemed especially tired today.
"I can't sing as well as Madam, but if it's alright, I'll sing for you."
Rak stroked the child's head and sang a terribly off-key lullaby. His wrinkled old hand stroked Rider's head as if eager to drain all his vitality.
"...Are you asleep?"
Before long, the child had fallen into a deep sleep. Rak held his hand to the child's nose and flinched at the hot breath.
The old hand moved from the child's soft nose tip to his slender neck, caressing the sleeping child's throat. The cowardly elder hoped God would take the child's life instead of dirtying his own hands.
"Please die soon."
Rak prayed to the merciful god. Then, holding his breath lest he wake the child, he left the room.
The hinges creaked as the door closed. In the silence, the rhythmic breathing synced to the clock's ticking grew muffled, as if soaked in water.
The child knew full well that in the world, the only one who loved him was his mother.
***
It had been quite some time since returning from the Toten Marquisate. Now the debutante was truly just days away. Counting, it was three days.
What? Really only three days left? Less time than expected. Is this for real? When did time pass so quickly?
As I lamented the time flowing past everyone but me, Gabriel visited Rohanson Mansion again. At my request to come once more last time.
Perhaps squeezed in amid a busy schedule, he arrived several hours later than announced. I had given up waiting, thinking he wouldn't come, and was deep in sound sleep when word arrived late that he had. I went to greet him.
Daring to interrupt my nap? The dream I had today was so good.
A woman in a white dress was stroking my head. I didn't remember her face, but vaguely recalled calling her 'Mom' in the dream. It had been ages since dreaming of Mom, a nostalgic dream, and I hadn't expected it interrupted.
Still, since I called him, Gabriel was innocent. The butler had taken good care of him; Gabriel waited leisurely in the drawing room. At first, he sat rigidly tense, but after several visits, he acted like it was his own home.
Oh my. They had even laid out an elaborate tea spread. Our mansion servants, who once wavered at news of the villainess and holy knight together, now showed no agitation at Gabriel's visits.
Gabriel rose upon seeing me and bowed politely.
"My apologies, Lady Rohanson. I'm late."
Late for the appointment and disturbing my nap, then brushing it off with an apology? Of course that sufficed. How could a villainess complain to the heaven-like male lead?
"Were you busy?"
"If I may make excuses, yes. Our Pararos Knights are also providing security for Crown Prince's birthday banquet."
Gabriel seemed to boast that he had come to see me amid such busyness. Of course, the stoic male lead wouldn't phrase it slyly.
Thanks to Dolliné's rhetoric lessons, every word in the world sounded like sarcastic innuendo. At this rate, I'd misinterpret praise, get offended, and become a true villainess.
"Did you meet Toten Madam well?"
"Didn't you hear?"
"Toten Madam hasn't visited the temple since then. I sent a letter just in case, but no reply."
I thought she would have heard through some connection with Gabriel, but apparently Toten Madam hadn't gone to the temple afterward. I hadn't received separate contact either.
"Did something happen?"
Her words were gentle, but it was essentially an interrogation. Whoa. Gabriel, are you suspecting me? No way I'd threaten her not to go to the temple, right?
With strange rumors circulating, it seemed the rose-tinted glasses were gradually falling off, so I needed to flirt a bit today to tighten the emotional leash.
"It seems Viscount Toten doesn't have much time left."
"The viscount?"
To do that, I had no choice but to tell the truth first. Denying fault blindly could lead to a double-check later.
"Madam asked if there's a way to cure her sick child like me."
"And what did you reply?"
"That it's impossible without offering lives to a demon."
In short, absolutely impossible. Gabriel knew I was possessed, so he should know it couldn't be cured the same way.
"...Is there truly no method?"
However, contrary to my expectation, Gabriel asked suspiciously.
