Chapter 6 – Who Will Die?
“Master, the butler is here.”
At the servant’s words, a voice from behind the door replied, “Let him in.”
The door to the marquis’s study opened, and the sharp eyes of the master twitched slightly.
Regan Fellum.
He looked almost exactly like Everett.
At his feet lay a man so beaten that it was hard to tell who he had been.
With a glance, Regan ordered two servants to drag the body away.
A dark red trail of blood streaked across the oak floor — the usual fate of those who failed him.
“Butler, enter,” Regan said.
As the butler stepped in, the smell of strong perfume mixed with the heavy scent of blood. It was familiar — he didn’t even flinch.
Regan wiped his face with a white towel stained with red.
Beside him sat a huge, black-furred beast — a caracal the size of a lion, modified by Regan’s own power. The animal licked bits of flesh from its fangs as it stared at the butler.
“This was the lawyer I hired,” Regan said coldly. “He messed up the case, so I killed him.”
The butler bowed deeply. “My apologies, my lord. I’ll find a more capable lawyer right away.”
Regan’s tone meant there was no room for excuses.
“I can’t overfeed Rax,” he said, glancing at the blood-soaked beast. “So I’ll overlook it this time. But there won’t be a next.”
“Yes, my lord. I understand.”
“Now go.”
But the butler didn’t move. He raised his head slightly.
“My lord, I have something to report.”
“Later.”
It was a bad time to speak — but this matter couldn’t wait.
“It must be now, my lord,” the butler insisted.
Regan’s brows furrowed. He stepped closer, his hand half-raised to strike — when the butler quickly closed his eyes and blurted out:
“The young lady… she has been attacked!”
The hand came down anyway, hitting the butler’s head hard.
“I told you never to speak of that girl! Do you take my words as a joke?”
At the mention of his “younger daughter,” Regan’s temper flared.
The butler swallowed his groan and forced himself upright.
“No, my lord. But this matter could not go unreported. Her condition is critical.”
“Critical?” Regan’s tone was indifferent. “Is she dying, then?”
It was a cold question — but typical of him. To him, a useless daughter was nothing more than dirt. Unless she was dying, he didn’t care.
“Yes, my lord. If we leave her as she is, she might not survive.”
At those words, Regan’s thick mustache twitched. For the first time, a flicker of interest appeared. The butler straightened quickly.
“You must call a doctor at once.”
“Has she caught some disease without my knowing?”
“No, my lord. It was her maid — she harmed her.”
“What?” Regan’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“What nonsense! How could a servant dare harm her master?”
Even the beast, Rax, flinched at his roar.
“She cut her hair with scissors and attacked her,” the butler said carefully.
Regan stared, speechless.
Everett? Attacked by a maid?
He had always assumed she was living quietly — fed and clothed.
To him, maids were like animals, kept for convenience. The thought that one could bite the hand that fed them was absurd.
But the butler hesitated. He remembered the words Everett had whispered to him earlier — words that still made his blood run cold.
When he had carried the wounded Everett to a clean bed, she had said softly,
“Butler. Tell Father everything that happened today, in detail. And make sure he calls for the doctor.”
“Pardon, my lady?” he had asked, confused.
“If he tries to ignore it again, I’ll go to him myself like this—” she said, touching the wound on her thigh, “—and I’ll tell him that you, too, helped Joanne torment me.
That wouldn’t even be a lie, would it? You did look away.”
“My lady, please—!”
He had frozen mid-step, and Everett had leaned closer, whispering into his ear:
“If Father truly plans to let me die, he won’t send a doctor. Then I’ll just wait to die.
But if he doesn’t want me dead… then the one who’ll die instead will be you.
Between the two of us, one must live.
So tell me, Butler — who do you think will survive?”
Her voice had been calm and cold — nothing like the timid girl he once knew.
For a moment, he had wondered if this was truly the same Everett.
Then realization struck.
He had been tricked.
Joanne’s words had been true. Everett had planned this entire incident.
But knowing that didn’t help him now — no one would believe it.
Just as he hadn’t believed Joanne, no one would believe him.
He had no time to think. All he could do was act.
Well, it’s true she’s been bullied for years, he thought bitterly. Even Lady Charlotte won’t be able to cover this up now.
So now, standing before Regan, the butler clenched his trembling fist and declared,
“The other maids say Joanne often tormented the young lady in secret. If you see her yourself, you’ll understand, my lord. Please — you must see her personally!”
He spoke with the false passion of a righteous man exposing injustice.
Blood had soaked through Everett’s shabby nightgown by the time Regan finally appeared.
Her thin body was pale, her head spinning from blood loss.
Her body was always weak — even a small wound took its toll.
Surely he won’t just leave me to die like this, she thought, lying on the softest bed she had been given in years.
Everett knew Regan would not let her die — not yet.
He had waited twenty years for her to awaken some ability, after all.
Still, she tasted bitterness in her mouth.
“Did Joanne really do this to you?”
The first to arrive was Lady Charlotte, her aunt — the same woman who had stolen Everett’s power when she was a newborn.
Charlotte always wore heavy, ornate dresses to hide her sagging shoulders.
Each time she moved, her jewelry clinked softly.
When I was little, I used to love that sound, Everett thought bitterly.
She had once adored Charlotte like a mother — not knowing that the woman she loved had taken everything from her.
Now, as Charlotte looked down at her with cold, empty eyes, Everett felt not a trace of affection or guilt from her.
It made it easier to erase her own feelings as well.
A maid approached Charlotte and whispered,
“Yes, my lady. She’s tied up outside, under the tree.”
“Joanne isn’t the type to do something like this,” Charlotte said softly — as if defending her.
She knew Joanne well. Too well.
Joanne had been able to torment Everett only because Charlotte allowed it — and even enjoyed it.
But this time, things had gone too far.
“The butler said he saw blood on Joanne’s hands,” the maid added.
“Hmm.”
“Last night she even said she’d make Miss Everett suffer after Miss Gemma left, but I didn’t think she’d actually do it.
Oh — look at this. The young lady’s nightgown? It used to be Joanne’s.”
“No wonder it smells strange. That girl sweats so much,” Charlotte muttered.
The maid giggled. “Should we change the nightgown, just in case?”
Charlotte waved her fan lazily. “The marquis isn’t coming anyway. Just clean her wound, put some herbs on it, and be done.”
“Yes, Lady Charlotte.”
But as she turned to leave, the door suddenly opened.
Startled, Charlotte looked up — and froze.
“M-Marquis Regan!”
The very man she had just dismissed appeared in the doorway.
“My lord! What brings you here?”
“I came because the butler said something ridiculous,” he said coldly.
“Ridiculous?”
“He claims a maid attacked her lady — badly enough to call a doctor. Do you believe such nonsense?”
He clearly didn’t — but the fact that he had come himself was unusual.
Charlotte glanced at him curiously.
“Could it be… you came to see Everett?”
“Yes,” Regan said simply.
Charlotte’s eyes flickered.
He came himself? To see her? In this state?
“She’s fine,” Charlotte said quickly. “Just a small cut. Some herbs will fix it.”
As he tried to enter, Charlotte blocked the doorway, spreading her wide skirt so he couldn’t see the bed.
Smiling with her fan, she said, “Please don’t worry, my lord.”
But Regan’s sharp eyes darted past her.
“She is injured, then. The butler said she might die.”
“It’s not that bad,” Charlotte said quickly. “I’ll take good care of her.”
Regan nodded slightly, deciding to say a word to Everett and leave — not that he wanted to see her face anyway.
He turned to go.
Charlotte smiled in relief.
But then — thud!
A heavy sound hit the floor.
Regan turned sharply toward it.
Everett had fallen from the bed, dragging her frail body upright.
This time, Charlotte couldn’t block her from view.
She bit her lip hard.
I can’t let him see her like this…
