Chapter 59
Julian sat across from her, waiting for her sobs to quiet down.
It was a painful time, but one he could endure as long as necessary.
After a while, Rebecca, who had been crying for quite some time, finally began to speak haltingly to Julian, who was still there waiting.
“Enough now. I must reek. You don’t have to force yourself—just leave, Julian. As I am now, I don’t belong beside you.”
“Well, my sense of smell isn’t that great, so I can’t really tell.”
“Stop joking and get out, really. This is a matter of my pride.”
“Well, that’s an honor. To think you’d rate me as someone capable of wounding your pride.”
“Say that all you want, but if you saw my face, you’d be so startled you’d run. Better go before I shove this hideous face right in front of you.”
Her self-deprecating words made Julian’s brow crease.
He was angry—he couldn’t understand why she was saying things like that.
He already knew what Rebecca looked like from reading Leo’s memories.
But so what?
She was just… hurt.
Did she think so little of him—that he was the kind of man who would spout insults at someone in pain?
After all he’d done, it felt a little unfair to be treated this way.
So Julian snapped back, curtly,
“You’ll have to show me first. How can you judge me however you like without even trying?”
“There are things you know without having to try.”
“No. There’s no such thing in this world.”
“There is.”
Their childish back-and-forth went on for quite some time.
Then Rebecca suddenly burst into laughter.
“At this rate, you’re no different from the twins at home.”
Julian chuckled softly with her.
Had her heart loosened, even just a little?
A faint hope stirred in him.
He hesitated, then continued,
“However you look, you’re still Rebecca.”
“……”
“You’re the one who dared to ask Duke Johannes for a dance. The one who boldly proposed a contract marriage, who willingly threw yourself down a grand staircase. The one who freed herself from the hands of that dreadful Zeppelin Devonshire. And…”
Julian drew in a breath.
“The woman who will marry me. The woman I chose. That’s you, Rebecca.”
He heard Rebecca swallow.
As silence dragged on, Julian lowered his head.
Maybe this was as far as he should go today. Any more and he might only hurt her.
And he couldn’t bear to watch Rebecca suffer because of him.
“Julian.”
Just as he was about to give up and rise from his seat, her tear-drenched voice called to him.
Julian’s head snapped up, his eyes fixing on her.
Rebecca slowly rose to her feet.
Julian remained on the floor, staring up at her blankly. Though it was still daytime, the overcast sky left the room dim.
In that darkness, her blue eyes sparkled like stars.
“I’m… hideous, aren’t I?”
Rebecca still couldn’t bring herself to show her face in full light.
But she needed to know.
Could she, stripped of beauty, worthless now as a doll, still go on living as Rebecca?
She had seen all kinds of reactions to her changed face—
Disgust like Zeppelin’s.
Enjoyment, like Octavio’s or Alicia’s.
Sorrow, like Kanna’s or her family’s.
Each time, she felt as if she had lost herself.
Was the loss of beauty really something so tragic?
I’m still me. I’m still…
Rebecca’s eyes trembled as they locked with Julian’s.
Julian didn’t so much as flinch, only blinked his dark eyes.
“No. You’re still Rebecca.”
Julian stood.
And before he realized it, his hand was reaching for her tear-streaked face.
Rebecca saw her reflection in his eyes as he came closer.
Pathetic. Terrified.
The next action wasn’t something even Julian had foreseen.
Only one thought filled his mind:
He wanted to stop her tears.
He gently pulled her by the nape and the back of her head.
And then Julian’s lips met Rebecca’s trembling lips.
Rebecca blinked rapidly in shock.
She knew she ought to push him away.
But her cool, rational mind faltered against the weight of his deep, lingering kiss.
Where on earth did he learn this…
Without realizing, every nerve focused on her lips. Her breath quickened.
Nothing else existed—only the sensation of him against her.
Rebecca reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. His height made the back of her neck ache.
Julian kissed her feverishly, hungrily exploring a bliss he had never known before.
Yet there was no harshness—his touch was careful, like one cradling a fragile chick.
He tilted his head the other way, pulled her closer by the waist.
In the darkness, their bodies intertwined in heated intensity.
His pounding heartbeat echoed straight into her chest.
For that moment, Rebecca forgot everything.
Zeppelin. Obelia. Her ruined face. Even revenge.
The endless snare of thoughts that plagued her fell silent.
It felt like only the two of them existed in a world where time had stopped.
“Good. This is how it should be…”
Zeppelin leaned back in his chair, looking exhausted.
Outside, heavy rain poured, deepening his gloom.
He had sent out a swift hunting hound, so by tomorrow morning the documents would be delivered without issue.
Yet why did this unease gnaw at him?
He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, staring blankly at the flame of the incense candle.
Octavio had lit it, predicting thunder.
The scent always calmed his tangled thoughts and lulled him to sleep.
But it also made him drowsy and hazy, which was why his father had once banned it.
Zeppelin hadn’t particularly liked it either—until Rebecca had been ruined. Since then, he couldn’t sleep without it.
Without it, he might have gone insane.
Rrrrumble—crash!
A flash of lightning and a booming thunderclap made him flinch.
He hurried to close the wide-open curtains.
Then fumbled to turn up the phonograph as loud as possible.
The magic stone inside spun, the needle tracing its vibrations.
Instead of his usual calm music, he chose a dramatic, thundering piece to drown out the storm.
The orchestra’s surging notes pounded against his eardrums.
“Much better.”
Every thunderous night, he dreamed nightmares—distorted memories of the first time he’d been locked in a room.
Whenever his father Zakim disapproved of him, he dragged Zeppelin to the toy room.
And in front of him, shredded, crushed, and smashed every toy he loved.
“Look closely! The weak have no right to possess anything.”
When the cruel destruction ended, Zakim would lock young Zeppelin inside, amidst the ruins of his treasures.
He would cry himself to sleep among the shards of what he loved.
And every time, Octavio was the one to open the door.
“Young master, are you all right?”
Octavio would wash his chilled, trembling body in warm water, dress him in fresh clothes, and feed him sweet treats.
Then he would press a new toy into his sulky hands.
“They were old anyway. You can always get something better. Don’t be disheartened.”
Those words had comforted Zeppelin greatly.
So much so that Zakim’s punishments hardly scarred him.
When he grew older, he even took pleasure in tearing apart broken dolls during his confinement.
Octavio had shown him a new way of life.
Zeppelin knew Octavio wasn’t exactly a good man.
There was cruelty in him too—Zeppelin himself winced sometimes at his methods.
But aside from the head maid Grace, Octavio was one of the few he could trust.
He recalled Octavio’s words:
“You can always buy another.”
Yes. People were the same. Rebecca was the same.
Zeppelin murmured his resolution and waved his hand as if conducting the climaxing symphony.
A pleasant humming slipped from his lips.
Everything will be fine. His life was planned that way.
“I heard you divorced.”
The memory struck him like a jab. His hand froze.
It was what Julian had said to him, smirking, at the state council meeting yesterday.
Everyone had wanted to ask, their tongues itching, but hadn’t dared. Julian had broken the silence.
Then came a flood of questions, and Zeppelin, seeing the emperor’s amused expression, had no choice but to confirm it.
“That’s for the best, then. Guess you two weren’t meant to be.”
Julian’s comment was unbearably rude.
But none of the nobles present dared to rebuke him.
“Still just a snot-nosed brat with his cats…”
Beside Julian always prowled sleek black cats with glowing golden eyes.
To have God’s messengers by his side was far too good a fate for a child like him.
Even before the emperor, the three cats always accompanied him.
It looked ridiculous—yet people praised it, saying it heightened his divine aura. The hypocrisy sickened Zeppelin.
He slammed his fist on the desk.
The stack of documents toppled in a heap before him.
Running a hand irritably through his hair, he suddenly froze.
Among the scattered papers, one caught his eye.
He blinked and snatched it up, scarcely able to believe it.
A debt repayment receipt.
Stamped with the Devonshire seal.
“Ovelia… repaid their debt?”
He had no memory of such a thing.
Zeppelin rifled frantically through the rest.
The date was today.
The impoverished Ovelia family had repaid the entire sum in one day.
Every coin, even the interest.
It must have been mixed in with the stack of documents he’d stamped in a daze that morning.
“What in the world…”
He had heard Catherine was driven out of Ovelia, but with Rebecca gone, he hadn’t bothered to keep watch.
So he hadn’t set another hound on them.
Ovelia was hopeless anyway.
Lately, Danae had been doing side work, but that would hardly be enough—not even to cover the interest.
Then how…?
