Chapter 86
Belek’s mood looked low all day.
“Damn it! Bloody hell!”
Belek spent the whole day stomping around, kicking at furniture.
“Mother, brother is scary…”
Bertha’s daughter, Selena, muttered.
Bertha gazed uneasily at her furious son.
She knew very well why he was so angry.
Ever since he lost the representative position in the negotiations for the wishing stone, his temper had been sour.
“Again… to that woman’s children…”
Bertha’s hand, clutching at her skirt, trembled.
Her own children were constantly overshadowed by that woman’s children.
It felt as though the dead woman was laughing at them from somewhere.
“See? Didn’t I tell you so?”
…as if mocking.
Bertha simply could not allow that woman’s children to exist.
“I wish they would disappear from this world.”
That thought surged up inside her.
No—it could not stop at mere thoughts.
“I must protect my children.”
Her son had to inherit the title no matter what.
When Selena married, this sturdy Abiche family had to serve as her strong backing.
“I don’t care what happens to me.”
If only she could burn up this body for their sake.
But the chance never seemed to come.
Bertha took Selena, who was frightened of her brother, to the dress shop.
Selena smiled brightly, and that alone gave Bertha satisfaction.
“My beloved daughter.”
Be happy.
This mother will make sure of it.
Bertha steeled her resolve and returned to the mansion ahead of time.
And then she saw—
“Damian?”
Damian and Katrina, bodies pressed together.
Their figures were partly hidden by the back of the sofa, but… the atmosphere was strangely peculiar.
Yet Damian rose as though nothing had happened.
His expression was blank as he picked up a fallen book.
Then slowly, he turned to face Bertha. His movements were so natural, they erased the strange sensation she had felt a moment ago.
The two of them stared at each other in silence.
After a while, Damian spoke first.
“What brings you here, madam?”
“…What were you doing there?”
Damian very naturally placed the book on Katrina’s sleeping body.
“As you can see.”
His reply was short, concise.
His trademark impassive face revealed nothing.
But Bertha could not shake off the lingering feeling of strangeness.
“Is that so?”
“Did you need something?”
Bertha studied Damian carefully.
They said he was cursed.
The newspapers reported the victims suffered in terrible agony.
Yet he looked far too fine.
But now Bertha realized.
“He’s enduring it.”
Her lips twisted.
Just like that woman’s son—so terribly strong. She had birthed a boy who was his mirror image.
“…Nothing in particular. I shall retire to my room.”
“Rest well, madam.”
“Yes.”
Bertha slowly climbed the stairs. From above, she could see the view of the lower floor.
A thought came to her.
Wasn’t it far too close for him to be picking up a mere book?
But then again—that Damian Abiche would never do such a thing.
She knew well how much he loathed Katrina.
“Milady, Young Master Damian is asking for you.”
“Damian? He’s asking for me?”
“Yes, he’s in the study.”
“…He went there again?”
Truly, his stubbornness was remarkable.
“All right. I’ll go right away.”
Katrina headed straight to Damian’s study.
Knock, knock.
“It’s me, Damian.”
She waited for a response.
But even after some time, no reply came.
“…Damian?”
Was he not inside?
Or…
A bad feeling crept over her. Katrina opened the door, afraid something might have happened.
Inside, she found Damian barely standing, one hand braced on the desk.
As she entered, his brow furrowed, irritation flickering across his face.
“…I did not say you could come in.”
His blue eyes had cooled, full of displeasure.
“Why did you come here when you can barely stand?”
If he was sick, he should rest—she could not understand why he forced himself into the study.
“Wouldn’t it be better to rest for a while?”
Was he really planning to keep pushing himself like this?
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“…All right. I won’t repeat myself.”
Katrina decided not to go in circles again.
No matter how much she urged, he would not listen.
“I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with this.”
Why did he insist on enduring like this?
“You don’t know anything.”
His voice was sharp.
“I may not know, but it’s too much. If you push yourself like this, your body—”
“Well, you’ve always taken things easily from others, so how could you understand?”
“…What?”
“Isn’t that right? Ever since you came into this family.”
Damian looked at Katrina with open hostility.
His words made Katrina clench her fists tightly.
“You must have lived a comfortable life, Katrina.”
“…A comfortable life?”
“Isn’t that so?”
A faint mocking smile crossed his lips.
“You must be delirious from your illness, saying nonsense. But you’d better stop.”
Katrina warned him as calmly as she could.
But Damian’s lips curled into a bitter sneer.
“I’ve always thought so. You just happened to roll into the Abiche family by luck. So…”
“….”
“You should always remember your place.”
Venomous words poured from his mouth.
Ever since she entered this mansion, Katrina had lived with guilt as a child.
Arabella had loved Katrina.
Not her own son, Damian.
She had given everything to Katrina.
Bit by bit, Katrina stole away the rights Damian should have had.
That was the guilt of her childhood.
And so Katrina…
“…I saw it too.”
She could never bring herself to accuse Damian.
Every time she was slandered by others, her heart broke.
Why was this happening to her? Why did they slander her? What had they done to her?
All her resentment swirled together—
Except toward one person.
Toward Damian, she understood instantly.
He had always hated her.
He had merely hidden it all this time.
And that day, it had finally burst out.
Katrina never dared to accuse him.
She had never been able to stand before him without guilt.
So she simply, helplessly, understood.
And she grieved alone.
Her bottled-up emotions grew and grew until this day.
“Damian, you…”
Katrina’s voice trembled.
Years of pent-up bitterness threatened to spill out, sparks blazing into a great fire.
