Chapter 69
If Only You Were Not Here
Elma told Ansi about how Cardian had treated Damion. It was a horrifying and cruel story. Ansi’s grip tightened around the receiver in her hand.
“Did the Duke and Duchess really know about all this?”
Cardian was a meticulous person, and he must have hidden his true nature from the Duke and Duchess. So, they might not have known how terrible the relationship between their sons had become.
“They knew. When I told them I was going to inform the Duke and Duchess, the young master… said his parents already knew and cried for quite a while.”
“Ah…”
“It turned out they knew. It’s not that they didn’t know; they just pretended not to. To them, the young master is not their son.”
“…Thank you for telling me.”
The call, which hadn’t been long, ended, and Ansi put down the phone. She stared at the floor with blurred vision as she walked toward the hospital room.
While she had kept vigil by Damion’s side yesterday, she had been thinking. She wondered how to approach the Duke and Duchess when they arrived.
Despite everything, they were still his parents, so she thought they would be deeply sad. That had nothing to do with their status as Orpheus, but was due to the guilt she felt knowing how much Sophia had suffered when she lost Derel.
But in the end, they never came.
Her son was shot and now lay here, asleep…
“Ansi!”
As Ansi reached for the door of Damion’s room, a familiar voice echoed down the hallway. Ansi raised her head.
Marianne came running down the corridor, and Bashirov, walking briskly alongside her, slammed the door open.
“Damion!”
Bashirov shouted. Marianne, following suit, rushed into the room and immediately checked Damion’s face.
“Mom’s here. Wake up!”
Her voice, calling to her son, was pitiful, and her hands shook as she urgently tried to wake him. Ansi, however, watched the scene without any emotion.
“…You’re late.”
At Ansi’s words, Marianne paused. Bashirov cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Though we’re late, please don’t hold it against us. We were exhausted from calming the guests yesterday. If you’re at the hospital, someone has to be there to take care of the situation, don’t you think?”
“Yes. We were deeply worried about Damion, too. But with His Majesty present, we couldn’t leave the palace carelessly.”
The Duke and Duchess went on, explaining why they hadn’t come until now.
Ansi stared intently at the couple as they spoke. Bashirov, with his neatly combed hair, and Marianne, carefully applying her makeup, both seemed out of place in this hospital room.
Ansi couldn’t hold back her scoff.
The Duke and Duchess, clearly taken aback, stared at her in confusion, as they had expected Ansi to be more sympathetic.
“Are you laughing at us?”
“The surgery went well, I hear. I don’t know if you were truly worried.”
“What did you just say?”
Bashirov frowned deeply. Ansi glared at them with a face full of hostility.
“You don’t need to pretend to be sad. After all, the only person you’re fooling is me.”
“You’re saying nonsense!”
“Your son was shot, and you’re worried about guests. You must have gotten used to standing by and letting things unfold like this ever since he was a child.”
Marianne and Bashirov exchanged looks, and after a moment, Bashirov closed the door to the hospital room. Marianne folded her arms and asked,
“So, are you lecturing us now?”
They had been pretending to have a good relationship with the child on Damion’s request. But seeing Ansi speak this way, they knew she was already aware of the truth. There was no need to keep up the pretense anymore.
“Don’t you want Damion to die?”
Marianne’s voice was low as she asked, a smirk on her lips.
“What do you mean…?”
“No, maybe you shot Damion. If he dies, you’ll inherit the estate, won’t you?”
It was a rather reasonable suspicion.
However, if Damion didn’t wake up, it would be even more unfavorable for Marianne and Bashirov. They still hadn’t gotten anything solid from him yet.
“…In front of someone who’s asleep, is that really what you should be saying?”
Ansi’s voice was full of disbelief as she spoke. She was shocked at how they could view their son as property. And she knew very well that it wasn’t a lie when they said she was the one who shot Damion.
“It’s precisely because he’s asleep that I can say this.”
“If you had ever truly cared for Damion…”
“Ansi, I think you’re mistaken about something.”
Marianne raised an eyebrow.
“Whether or not you and I truly care for Damion is none of your concern. We’ve been doing just fine without any need for genuine affection.”
The benefit of maintaining the family structure was the selfish motive they each had. They had kept up appearances for their own gain. This applied not only to the Duke and Duchess, but also to Damion.
So, the only ones who truly wanted Damion to wake up were them, not Ansi.
“After all, this happened because of you. If you hadn’t been here, Damion wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
“Marianne is right. My son will be well cared for by us, so you should leave now.”
Bashirov grabbed Ansi by the arm and tried to pull her out of the room. When she jerked her arm away, he yanked the door open and pulled her once again.
“Leave… now.”
Bashirov’s voice trailed off, his words faltering as they realized there were guests outside.
“…Excuse me, Duke.”
Hennet, standing in the hallway, greeted them. Elise, who was standing next to him, widened her eyes and glanced inside the room.
“Who are you?”
“I am Hennet de Maron, a close friend of Damion.”
“I am Elise de Vailis. I came to visit, but… where are you going?”
Elise’s eyes followed Bashirov’s hand, which was roughly grabbing Ansi’s arm. Her brows furrowed.
Bashirov, noticing her gaze, slowly released Ansi’s arm. He patted her on the shoulder as if to comfort her.
“We were just telling our daughter-in-law to rest after keeping vigil beside Damion.”
“I’ll stay here.”
Ansi answered immediately. Bashirov forced a smile.
“Ah, stubborn as always…”
“How is Damion?”
“Ah… He’ll wake up soon.”
At Hennet’s question, Bashirov quickly donned a worried expression and sighed. Marianne, pretending to wipe away tears with her handkerchief, took a step toward the door.
“Then, we’ll see you later, dear.”
Marianne and Bashirov stepped back, knowing that speaking any further in front of others would be detrimental.
Once the Duke and Duchess left and the door closed, Hennet approached Damion’s bed. He studied his friend with a serious expression, while Ansi lowered her head, feeling guilty.
“The surgery went well.”
“…Damion will wake up soon. So please, don’t be too sad, madam.”
Hennet forced a smile. Elise, who had been biting her lip, suddenly embraced Ansi.
“Elise…?”
“It’ll be okay, Ansi.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But why does your face look like that…”
Elise’s voice trembled.
Ansi couldn’t understand their words.
Sadness? Ansi didn’t think what she was feeling was sadness.
Maybe guilt or fear, or pity, but not sadness.
Ansi was surprised at how dry she felt inside.
She hadn’t shed a single tear since Damion was shot. She hadn’t whispered any sweet words to him, trying to comfort him with false hope. In fact, she had even blamed him for the shooting.
And yet, why did Hennet and Elise think she was sad?
“Yeah. Just cry, Ansi.”
At Elise’s words, Ansi suddenly realized that her eyes were red.
Before she knew it, thick tears began to fall.
“Ah…”
Once the tears started, they flowed like a burst dam, carrying with them all the emotions she had kept hidden deep inside.
The guilt from betraying the man.
The fear that he might never wake up.
The pity for the man who had spent his childhood with no place to lean on.
And rising through all that was a massive sadness.
She was now so sad.
A pure emotion, with no reason attached, just sorrow for this man’s current state.
