Episode 25
Their first objective—“quietly take the relic and return to the duke’s estate”—had been more or less a success.
Cecil hadn’t caught on to Ian’s presence at all, and there was zero commotion during the borrowing process of the protective relic. The temple knights said they would be leaving the area soon. The typhoon was drawing nearer by the day, so it was the appropriate measure.
So, there really wasn’t anything to worry about anymore.
That should have been the case…
“I’ll see you again.”
“It seems that won’t be too far off.”
Hugging the box containing the relic, I stepped down from the carriage and tilted my head slightly as I walked toward the villa entrance.
‘Was that supposed to be a good thing?’
It could have been just a casual farewell.
Maybe he meant we’d bump into each other by chance somewhere.
But it felt ominous.
It was a situation where it was natural to feel that way.
All I could hope for was that the “see you again soon” moment wouldn’t be because Ian Brighton caused some major incident that led to the temple knights being dispatched again.
With a complicated feeling in my chest, I went to find the steward to deliver the relic.
“Mr. Bremen, this is the protective relic I borrowed from the temple.”
“Ah, Sissi.”
The steward carefully removed the cloth wrapping from the relic on the desk and brought the revealed pure silver censer to the lobby.
He placed the censer on a small table by the window and added the frankincense that came with it.
His actions were smooth, practiced.
“Up until just after Lady Rosa was born, visits to the temple were a regular occurrence. I don’t even remember the last time we brought back a relic. Must’ve been a good ten years.”
I blinked slowly, quietly watching him.
“You borrowed the relic because of the typhoon… right?”
The steward slowly turned toward me.
His faint smile hinted at much more than it said.
“Sissi, young master Ian is here in this villa.”
His calm voice echoed through the empty lobby.
“This villa had been abandoned for quite some time. With the master away, I had no duties beyond simple maintenance. So I am content simply serving the young master now.”
“Yes.”
“We, the staff of this villa, don’t know exactly what kind of person Young Master Ian was back at the duke’s estate. We never experienced it ourselves. But that isn’t what’s important. What we need to focus on is obeying the duke’s orders and ensuring the young master’s safety.”
“I understand.”
“But, Sissi. Just because we don’t know doesn’t mean we take the duke’s words lightly.”
By then, the sky was already heavy with dark clouds.
As the sunlight faded, a shadow fell across the steward’s face where he stood with his back to the window.
“Since the young master’s birth, the duchess wrote me countless letters. I still haven’t forgotten them.”
I wanted to ask what kind of letters, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak.
For some reason, I felt I wasn’t supposed to ask. I couldn’t explain why.
I stood in silence, hands politely clasped, and the steward gave me one last gentle reminder:
“A typhoon is coming. It’ll be the first since the young master came to this villa, so we must be fully prepared. Prepared to weather the storm.”
“Deli, where’s the young master?”
“He was napping just after noon… Around three, he went into the study and hasn’t come out since. But he was asking for you earlier. You should go.”
“Thanks.”
In this villa, if you ask any passing staff member where Ian is, nine out of ten will answer without hesitation.
That was the clear difference between the villa and the duke’s estate.
In the duke’s estate, most people had no idea what Ian was doing or how he lived.
Either they weren’t interested or avoided caring out of fear.
But here, it was different.
The fact they could track his movements so precisely meant they were keeping a close eye on him.
As I grabbed the study door handle, I let out a quiet sigh.
The Duke of Brighton hadn’t left Ian alone at all.
On the contrary, he was keeping Ian firmly within his sights, more than anyone else.
I knew that. The duke was a meticulous man.
I did know…
‘But somehow, thinking about it again makes me feel strange.’
I recalled the old Ian—resentful that he wasn’t invited to a picnic.
The Ian Brighton who bitterly said everyone wished he’d just disappear from the mansion.
‘Am I… feeling sorry for him now?’
A quiet sense of alarm welled up.
The silver cross around my neck felt as if it were whispering to me.
Be careful, Sissi. You have to be very careful right now.
You heard what Cecil said. You heard what the steward said.
But… what exactly am I supposed to be careful of?
Ian’s attitude? His future actions?
Or Ian Brighton himself?
Even so…
I’d seen Ian Brighton prepare picnic food with my favorite bread.
I’d seen him embrace me tightly. I’d heard him declare, “You are mine.”
I had experienced both the demonic Ian Brighton and the human Ian Brighton.
It was hard to treat him as just some demon-possessed villain, some final boss, or a dark figure from a novel.
He was a living, breathing being, with a heartbeat, standing before me.
He was my young master.
I stood there blankly in front of the study door for some time.
Then a voice rang out from beyond it.
“How long are you going to stand there like a statue?”
Startled, I carefully opened the door.
The first thing I saw through the opening was a mess of scattered books.
And Ian Brighton, sitting on the floor with his long legs stretched out, reading an old book.
Still focused on the pages, he muttered:
“You’re late.”
I gave him an awkward smile.
“Sorry. I was running an errand.”
“I’ll have to speak to the steward. Using my personal servant as an errand runner…”
“I’m your personal servant, but also a servant of the duke’s household. This kind of task is part of my job.”
“And being gone when I call for you—that’s fine?”
Finally, Ian lifted his head with his usual crooked smile.
But that smile shattered in an instant.
His expression turned rigid, terrifyingly fast.
The air itself grew tense. Just Ian Brighton freezing his face was enough to change the entire atmosphere.
Confused, I instinctively touched my cheek.
“Is there something wrong with how I look?”
Did he notice Cecile’s blessing?
But she said it wouldn’t provoke him…
I was flustered, my eyes darting around—when Ian suddenly stood up.
His crimson eyes flared with menace.
The study door shut behind me as Ian took a firm step forward.
The next moment, he grabbed my forearm.
Before I knew it, his face was so close our noses almost touched.
“Who was it?”
“Huh?”
It sounded like he was interrogating a cheating lover or something.
This is insane. Something’s definitely going wrong.
Excuse me, Saint Cecilia? You said this wouldn’t provoke him! You said this was just to prevent danger!
How exactly are we supposed to explain the blaring sirens and full-blown emergency happening right now?!
“What is this? There should only be me next to you…”
“Young master?”
“…something’s wrong…”
“Young master!”
Earlier, he looked like he was full of shock and rage—
Now his face was completely overcome with confusion.
It was like my voice couldn’t reach him.
My arm, held tightly, was starting to ache.
I had to calm Ian Brighton down. Somehow.
But how?
“Young master! I’m sorry I was late! Next time, I’ll finish the errands faster so I’m always around when you call…!”
Thud.
His hand fell away.
Rubbing my sore arm with my palm, I blankly stared at Ian, who had stepped back.
Rain had begun to fall from the sky, heavy with dark clouds.
The soft sound of it drifted in from the window.
“You.”
His low voice pierced through the silence.
His long golden hair had grown quite a bit recently, and strands of it parted to reveal his crimson eyes—more vicious than ever.
And beneath them, his lips curled into a twisted grin.
“You went somewhere very amusing.”
“And met someone even more amusing…”
Oh no.
It’s not even 10 PM yet, and the demon’s already out?!
Mr. protagonist, you were wrong.
Your blessing didn’t prevent danger—
It seems it scraped the demon’s nerves raw.
We’re in for it now.
