~Chapter 113~
“Strange man.”
Bella tilted her head as she stared at the door Armians had left through.
He said they were nothing to each other, but he had hesitated for so long, like he had so much he wanted to say.
His reddened eyes, his throat bobbing nonstop—
She had wanted to accuse him of lying, but his heavy atmosphere stopped her.
Now left alone—
“What do I do now?”
After thinking for a moment, Bella flopped onto the bed.
“If he has something to say, he’ll say it himself.”
There were even two pillows laid out, so she thought maybe she would see him again at night.
“…Or so I thought.”
But Armians never came, even until the sun rose.
“His Grace slept in his private bedroom,” the maid explained when Bella asked.
“So he really doesn’t plan on coming?”
After disappearing so coldly, without even a hint of lingering affection?
Bella was dumbfounded, but she decided to wait.
If Armians truly still cared, he would come to her.
Instead, it wasn’t Armians who came—it was his retainer, Halter.
“I heard you’ve lost all your memories, my lady. But do you know that you’ve become the Countess?”
“I was told.”
“Then this will be quick. Since you are now the lord, you must manage your estate. Of course, you could appoint a deputy, but since you’ve only just inherited, it would be better for the people if you managed the east directly.”
“So this is what it’s about.”
She sneered.
“You’re just trying to tell me to leave, in the most roundabout way possible.”
“…Forgive me.”
“You’re just here to deliver someone else’s words, so why are you apologizing to me?”
Halter gave her a strange look. Bella turned her head slightly away.
“So when do I need to leave?”
Halter didn’t give her a deadline.
Either the Duke hadn’t decided yet, or he couldn’t bring himself to.
Not that Bella cared to dig into his true feelings.
“Why should I cling to something uncertain?”
And after all, wasn’t it foolish to stay in a house where the master had already told her to go?
“It’s not like I don’t have a place to live.”
She even found out she had no personal maid.
“Fine. Then I’ll pack myself.”
With no mouths to feed but her own, she only needed clothes and travel money. That much she could carry herself.
“But which ones are actually mine?”
The closet was overflowing with clothes. Too many.
In the end, she called a maid.
“Which of these belong to me?”
“…What?”
The maid blinked blankly, so Bella rephrased.
“Can you sort out what I can take with me?”
The maid fidgeted nervously without meeting her eyes. Soon, word must have spread—because more people gathered.
“You mustn’t leave, my lady!”
“Step over me before you go—ah, no, not literally step on me!”
“Our master is just shaken. If you leave now, His Grace will be truly alone!”
Bella’s gaze settled on the last speaker. If she remembered right, this was Catherine—the head maid.
“Well… maybe I was once His Grace’s lover. But not anymore. He knows that too, that’s why he’s letting me go.”
“That’s not true! The master—”
“Staying beside him without love… wouldn’t that just be guilt-tripping him into keeping me here?”
Bella smirked.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t like halfhearted relationships.”
“But, my lady! You loved him too. If your memories return—”
“Isn’t it time to stop calling me that?”
Bella’s irritation showed openly. Catherine flinched.
“Whatever His Grace feels, he made his decision. As an unmarried heir with strong succession rights, it’s only natural he’ll soon bring in a new duchess. Wouldn’t it be disrespectful to her if you kept calling me ‘my lady’?”
“But—”
“If you want to convince me, you’d better bring His Grace himself.”
Bella looked each of them in the eye, her face cold and void of warmth.
The servants froze, unsure what to do.
The Bella who used to smile gently, speak kindly, and care for them—she was gone.
Only someone sharp and resolute remained.
Catherine realized then—just how much Bella had sacrificed, pouring her whole life into magic.
Without such sacrifice,
“She could never have become such a different person.”
Bella slung a bag over her shoulder.
Her footsteps echoed calmly as she left.
They all knew she was leaving the mansion, but not one dared stop her.
At that moment—
The boots of a pursuer stomped past the bed.
Malkov quickly shoved his head under it.
“Did you find him?”
“Not yet!”
“He’s definitely here… look, feel this. Still warm, isn’t it?”
“We’ll search more thoroughly!”
“Good. But don’t slack on guarding the exits.”
The man who seemed like the superior walked off, but his men kept ransacking the inn room. The exits were blocked too.
“Damn. If I’d known, I would’ve run earlier.”
As always, the problem was money.
Malkov thought of the late Count Rohiltern.
The man had been bold and manly. Even after learning his daughter wasn’t his true blood, he had laughed it off.
[Well, who knew such a secret existed? Truly, people can survive anything!]
The Count had promised him a generous reward if Malkov testified in court.
But Malkov was a wanted man. He couldn’t risk it.
[That’s unfortunate. But the reward will come after the trial, all right? You understand—it isn’t proven yet.]
That much was expected. The Count even let him stay in the mansion until the trial. Malkov, needing a hideout, couldn’t refuse.
But then the Count died before the trial. The servants fled.
“So no reward after all.”
And now, chased again.
He had grabbed a few valuables like the others and run. But the money ran out fast.
Cheap inns, endless pursuit—this was the result.
Malkov squeezed his eyes shut.
“Please… if I can just escape them, I’ll do anything!”
He prayed to a god he’d never once sought, imagining himself paying offerings faithfully.
Then—
“Call it off. This is a waste of time.”
With that order, footsteps retreated.
“They’re leaving?!”
Relief and suspicion swirled inside him as he cracked his eyes open.
“What’s this? Hiding under the bed? You’re not a child.”
A hand seized his ankle, yanking him out.
“!”
It was the Grand Duke’s knight commander—his sly face unforgettable.
“I was going to ignore you, but really, this is too pathetic.”
“He knew I was here all along?!”
Malkov didn’t bother asking how. He collapsed to the ground, bowing low.
“Please, spare me!”
The man looked unimpressed, so Malkov quickly added—
“Think carefully—I’m your master’s benefactor!”
“…What?”
“Of course! Without me, how could your master have met Lady Rohiltern? It’s all fate—”
“What utter nonsense.”
