Misfortune 52

Chapter 52

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***

Delnia's eyes, dilating without rest, held Roan's.

Long ago, those eyes had pursued him tirelessly. And whenever their gazes would meet, her face would blossom from grim to bright.

He couldn't help but notice. That this virtuous woman had no idea of his misfortune. That's why she could be so innocent.

He knew it.

And yet, he..................

“I'm good anywhere, Roan. As long as it's with you.”

She was an abomination. He was disgusted by her cluelessness. It had to be that way all the time.

And yet, sometimes when she confessed her love, he couldn't help but be moved...................

"Because your father killed my parents."

The truth that he hadn't been able to bring himself to say before, that the woman in front of him was the daughter of his enemy, came out unexpectedly.

And Delnia collapsed without a sound. Just as he had expected all his life.

Roan didn't look away from her eyes as the light slowly faded from them.

"I see..................."

A stunned Delnia muttered.

She had resolved to deal with his hatred, but she often wondered.

Why was he so cruel, why would he want to break her so much?

She finally understood where his hatred, which sometimes seemed self-inflicted, came from.

And why he had refused to open up to her in the slightest.

He hated her from the beginning.

Her atonement must have been nothing but an abomination to him.

A bone-crushing realization jolted her out of her reverie.

The world was pitch black. As it had been for some time.

****

The morning dawned like any other.

Roan, immaculately dressed in his uniform, left the room. The butler followed him with calm steps.

The lord of the manor did not find it customary for his servants to see him off whenever he went out, so whenever they saw him, they would bow slightly before returning to their work.

And so it was that Roan, who had just exited the front door through the stairwell and hallway, accompanied as always only by his butler, turned and spoke.

"I’ll come home a little late today."

"Yes, sir."

The obedient butler replied, and Roan turned to face the front door again.

A lone, curtained room on the second floor caught his eye, a room close to his bedroom.

It was also the room that housed the woman who hadn't been able to regain consciousness since the chapel.

After returning home with the fainted woman in his arms, Roan made his way to the guest room closest to his own bedroom.

The butler, puzzled by his sudden appearance and unexpected behavior, watched as he carefully placed the woman on the bed and asked

“Shall I bring her to her room when she is better?”

“No. She'll stay here.”

When asked if this was a temporary arrangement for the slave, Roan said without missing a beat.

The servants were intrigued by his decision, but didn't make the mistake of speaking up. It was against their virtue to show too much interest in their employer's personal affairs.

But even if an unsuspecting bystander had been unable to contain their curiosity, they would have gotten no answers.

Even Roan himself did not know.

He must have wanted to strangle that slender neck, but the sight of the unconscious woman in front of him took the wind out of his lungs.

The fury that had fueled him had ebbed away, and all that remained was an inexplicable feeling of weakness.

Eventually, he picked her up with the hands that wanted to strangle her.

“I don't know why, they wanted to sell her.............. So I hid her, and then I set the cabin on fire to fool people.”

She was rambling like a madman, but Roan could understand everything she was saying.

At the time, he'd lost his cool and called her out on her ridiculous excuse. He didn't fully believe her now.

But he had dismissed it as bullshit because he knew she was not the kind of woman to do that.

The woman would whisper any lie to save the moment. The kind of woman who could walk on her honor like it was nothing.

'It would have been better if she had.’

At least he wouldn't be in this mess.

Even Roan had a good enough guess as to who the men had been who had wanted to sell Lena.

“I wonder why the Count kept them alive, knowing what trouble they'd cause him in the future.”

It was Count Eperne's men, who resented his decision, wanted to kill the siblings. The few loyal men who had left their homes to come to Belfort with the Count.

They often sent Roan on dangerous errands, perhaps hoping that he would not return alive. In the end, they played right into his hands, giving him the means to bring about the Count's downfall.

It was no wonder, then, that they were secretly plotting to sell his sister behind his back.

Yes. No wonder.

"....."

If the story was true.

If that woman was really trying to protect Lena.........

"Is there anything else you want to order?"

The butler asked cautiously, turning to Roan, who hadn't moved.

Roan, snapped out of his reverie, tore his gaze away from the room the woman was in and shook his head lightly.

"No."

Even if the woman's words were true, what difference would it make?

"You expect me to thank you for drowning her instead of burning her?”

His words were still true. The fact that Lena wasn't trapped in the flames didn't change anything.

Lena died because of that woman. And dead people don't come back.

That was the only clear truth.

Therefore, she was still unforgivable.

And the consequences were just as just.

Roan gathered his thoughts and resumed his walk as if nothing had happened. Only his long shadow lingered for a long time around the edge of the mansion.

***

Delnia could barely lift her heavy eyelids.

Her whole body burned and her bones throbbed. It felt like she was lying on a hot stone slab.

She didn't move, just rolled her eyes and stared blankly at her surroundings. Strange wallpaper with colorful patterns and luxurious furniture flashed across her still blurry vision.

At first glance, the room did not look like it belonged to a slave. It was more like a nobleman's chamber.

Perhaps the whole thing had been a nightmare.

It was similar to her chambers at Belfort Castle, or so Delnia thought in her still fuzzy head.

Perhaps seeing Roan again had been a dream of her own desperation.

It was too horrible to be true, but still.

If she lay here, soon Sophie would come and wake her up, and then it would be a normal day of late breakfasts and chats with her mother.

It was the door that swung open without a knock that woke Delnia from her dreamy thoughts.

Delnia glanced up, still lying on her back. A woman whose name she didn't remember, but whose face she knew.

"Oh, you're awake?"

The maid's bubbly voice invaded her consciousness as she came to her bedside.

"If you're awake, you should get up, what are you waiting for?"

The urgency in her tone was not unfamiliar. It was how most of the maids at Barthez Manor treated her.

As soon as she realized it, memories of the past dripped down her bleached brain like raindrops.

Her enslavement to Roan, all the insults she'd suffered from him, and the moment she'd broken down in front of his uncovered truth.

It was all real, then.

The weight of reality suddenly crushed her, and Delnia took a deep breath as she struggled to her feet.

"Uh, excuse me ................... Where am I?"

She managed to catch her breath and opened her overly dry lips. The sound of her own voice, cracking badly, felt like an unpleasant noise.

"Second floor guest room."

The maid who was drawing the curtains answered bluntly, not even looking at her. She was glad she hadn't ignored her.

"I-why am I here....................."

Nevertheless, Delnia cleared her throat and repeated her question. The maid in front of her was the only one she could ask about the recent events.

"Because the Colonel put you here after you collapsed."

Collapsed?

She wasn't sure about the last thing she remembered.

He confronted her in the chapel when she prayed for Lena, and.........

Delnia unconsciously clutched the quilt tighter as she pieced together the remaining memories.

And she realized her father's sin.

And it made her realize everything. How she and Roan had come to be this way. Where his hatred for her was rooted.

***

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