ITAYA 86 💥

~Chapter 86~

“D-don’t say anything. To my father—never. Okay? Please, please, I’m begging you! That money… I might be able to take care of it myself.”

Anais smiled gently.

“Don’t ever appear in front of me again. Then I won’t say anything.”

Gwennolyn nodded quickly.

“I promise!”

“And it would be better if you don’t talk about what happened here today. You know what I mean, right?”

“……Baldwin?”

Anais stared straight at Gwennolyn.

“I don’t know anything. Did something happen?”

“…Yes. Well done.”

Anais smiled faintly.

“It’s very late, Gwennolyn.”

“…I should go home. My parents must be worried.”

Gwennolyn stepped forward on her own, saying she would return.

By coincidence, the Horace family had already sent people to take her back. Before Gwennolyn left obediently, Rosiwood handed her a gift box.

“Her Grace the Grand Duchess said this is a wedding gift.”

When Gwennolyn checked inside, her face flushed red.

Inside was a laurel branch. It was used to celebrate sacred marriages—but it was also the symbol of Constantine.

Anais was showing who the true mistress of Constantine was, while at the same time mocking Gwennolyn’s marriage.

But there was nothing Gwennolyn could do.

She had realized that her roots could be pulled out at any moment.

Before leaving, Gwennolyn stared at the Constantine mansion for a long time.

Under the moonlight, the dignity of the Constantine estate was overwhelming.

It was the mansion she had dreamed of her whole life.
And the man she had chased for her entire life.

When she thought she had to give it all up, her insides twisted painfully.

“…It was mine.”

Tears fell from Gwennolyn’s eyes.

But she would never have it again.

It felt as if she could see a venomous snake tightly coiled around Constantine.

Anais would never let go of that huge treasure.

Before being bitten by those fangs, it was right to retreat.

At the moment she let go of everything she had dreamed of, Baldwin did not exist in Gwennolyn’s mind.

What she regretted was only the glory, authority, and power of Constantine she could have had.

The thought that she would never possess it made her stomach ache unbearably.

“Miss, you must leave quickly. The Marquis is extremely angry.”

The head maid of the Horace household urged her urgently, her face pale.

The Horace Marquisate had already been in chaos for quite some time.

The knight who failed to catch her was beaten.
The maid was slapped dozens of times, her face swollen black and blue.

The servants were shrinking back, trying to avoid the Marquis’s rage. The head maid barely suppressed her resentment toward Gwennolyn, who had caused all this trouble.

“Please hurry, Miss.”

At last, Gwennolyn moved her regret-filled steps.

Clenching the laurel branch tightly, she turned away.

That was the best she could do—pathetic as it was.

I confirmed that Gwennolyn had left.

People like her must not be dragged out—they must be made to leave on their own, so they never come back.

This should bring the Gwennolyn incident to an end.

Dealing with a madwoman had left me mentally exhausted.

“Ella, where is Baldwin right now?”

“He is in Your Grace’s bedroom.”

“…I think I need honey wine. And light a calming fragrance, and bring some sweets.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

After giving Ella instructions, I stood in front of the bedroom door for a moment.

I needed time to organize my thoughts.

Now that Gwennolyn was dealt with, I finally had room to think.

Baldwin had spoken.

There was something awkward about it, but he had clearly said it. Maybe… I could hear it.

Don’t overthink.

Don’t make assumptions.

Everything should be confirmed directly with Baldwin. Thinking alone could create useless misunderstandings.

I took a breath and tried to empty my mind.

“Everything is finished, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Ella. You may rest now.”

“Yes.”

After Ella left, I took a deep breath. When I felt completely empty, I opened the bedroom door.

Baldwin was sitting quietly on the bed, his head lowered.

Then he lifted his head toward me.

The flickering lamp revealed his expression from the darkness.

It was terribly dark.

So sunken that I couldn’t guess what he was thinking.
The purple eyes that used to sparkle like a rainbow when they looked at me had lost their light.

He looked like someone standing alone in ruined ruins.

I stepped toward him.

“Baldwin.”

His gaze slowly scanned me, as if checking something.

“…You didn’t leave.”

His voice was low and hoarse.

“Can you hear my voice?”

Baldwin let out a deep breath. The darkness he held seemed to fade slightly.

I waited quietly for his answer.

After a moment, he replied slowly.

“Not perfectly, but I can hear.”

As I thought.

“Since when?”

“About a week after the sentence. Around then. It slowly started to come back.”

I nodded calmly. It seemed like this would be a long conversation, so I sat on the sofa.

Ella had prepared everything as instructed. I poured the honey wine into two glasses and looked at him.

“Would you like a drink?”

Baldwin let out a rough breath.

“Aren’t you angry? I deceived you as well.”

“I’ll decide after I hear everything.”

After staring at me for a moment, Baldwin came and sat across from me. He drank slowly.

Since he didn’t like sweet things, he frowned slightly. I refilled his glass.

“Tell me, Baldwin. Whatever it is.”

His dark gaze wavered.

He stayed silent for a long time, as if unsure where to begin.

Finally, he spoke.

“…Sometimes I thought it would have been better if I couldn’t hear. It started the day my mother called me a worm.”

That was where it began.

His misfortune.

At a young age, Baldwin had to face truths and feelings he would rather not have known.

The world was nothing like the warm, shining place he once believed in—it was cruel and merciless.

“What did I do wrong to give birth to something like you? Why must I suffer because of a fool like this?”

“It’s because low blood mixed in you, Baldwin. I told you to throw your mother away!”

“He can’t hear anyway. Hah. Acting proud just because he’s a Grand Duke’s son. Disgusting. This is all his own fault.”

“This happened because someone with low noble blood dared to look down on us!”

“Serves him right. So is he being pushed out of the position now?”

Those who openly showed malice wrapped in false goodwill.

They were Baldwin’s family.
They were his friends.

Baldwin had to survive there.

The young boy survived by closing his mouth—and closing his ears.

He isolated himself from others.

Loneliness became his companion, and envy and hatred toward him became the foundation of who he was.

Baldwin survived alone.

At least I had my grandfather.

But Baldwin was completely alone in a twisted world.

“It was better for me not to hear. I still don’t regret that decision.”

“Baldwin…”

“But I am sorry for deceiving you because of it.”

He looked at me.

The darkness in his eyes made him look painfully pitiful.

He still looked like someone left alone in a broken world—loneliness, isolation, deep wounds.

“…Anna.”

Baldwin called me, his face distorted. He twisted his lips upward.

Even his smile was crooked. He looked lost.

“Anais.”

This must have been the true shape of his darkness.

“I was wrong.”

The wounded child he had kept hidden inside.

I drank. My insides felt like they were burning.

“Please forgive me.”

Baldwin dragged a hand down his face. He looked like a beast buried in twilight.

Even while begging for forgiveness, his face looked like he would immediately grab me if I tried to run.

It was desperate.

“Please….”

“I’m not angry, Baldwin.”

I said it firmly and drank another glass. Then another. And another.

The sweet taste filled my mouth.

The warm, low-proof honey wine warmed my stomach. My freezing heart softened.

“I’m not angry.”

Baldwin blinked slowly.

Purple eyes wrapped in golden lashes glimmered faintly.

Light seemed to return to him.

“I won’t go anywhere.”

I reached out to him.

“So don’t cry.”

I held Baldwin tightly.

Hot tears he hadn’t even noticed soaked into my chest.

As my shoulder grew wet, my heart collapsed helplessly.

Baldwin wrapped his trembling arms around my back.

“Please don’t cry, Baldwin.”

His wounds were still hot and heavy.

The world was far too unfair.