Chapter 60
“The young lady stopped Sir Evan’s rampage.”
Rowen relayed the latest news to Ricardo.
“They say several servants, including the physician, were injured.”
It was Sasha who had stopped Evan Tailors’ rampage of Cheongmyeong.
Even Jin and Othello had found it impossible to approach someone during the adaptation period of an ability. For her to step in during something so dangerous…
A sigh, almost a groan, slipped out.
“…She’s done something unnecessary.”
Thud—Ricardo snapped his book shut.
“Not very Winchester-like.”
His voice was cold, yet his expression betrayed no displeasure.
Though “not very Winchester-like” was a phrase normally used to scold children of the Winchester family, his tone was oddly different this time.
“Fortunately, they say the young lady suffered no more than a scratch to her cheek.”
Rowen added what he thought Ricardo would want to know.
Ricardo gave no further reply, but Rowen knew well that everyone in House Winchester worried deeply about Lady Sasha’s well-being.
“Even when Lord Fermetis was made to apologize the other day, she stepped forward so actively.”
When he had heard of a commotion, Rowen had rushed straight to the scene.
And there he had found Sasha, standing her ground against Fermetis without yielding.
That she had stepped up for the maids was nothing surprising.
Stories of Sasha offering wisdom or help to the lower servants had already earned her the title of “eccentric” among the blood relatives.
But Sasha paid no mind to trivial reputations.
Despite her intelligence, she neither craved recognition nor honor—she simply enjoyed doing small things that helped others.
“She seems to have a strong sense of justice.”
Indeed, not a trait that suited the Winchesters.
She could have let the Tailors’ heir rampage to death, and no one would have faulted her.
Yet those very qualities were turning her into a new focal point for the barren Winchesters.
“Justice, you say…”
Ricardo twisted his lips into a faint smirk.
“She may resemble Trisha.”
He recalled Sasha’s mother—
The woman who had stepped into an icy pond for the sake of a seven-year-old child suffering from an ability rampage.
Othello had begun to follow Trisha after that.
And now, he cherished Sasha more than anyone.
“Well… in appearance, she’s unmistakably Your Grace’s daughter.”
Rowen’s careful voice broke the silence.
“There are only two in the world with such beautiful silver hair.”
Ricardo only gazed out the window at the pitch-black scenery.
Memories of the past flickered in his dark green eyes.
He had met Trisha Quell by a lakeside.
A beautiful woman of profound wisdom and knowledge.
She had called herself a servant of Mechius, bearing a sacred mission.
She had said Winchester was chosen by Mechius.
Ricardo had never lain with Trisha.
Thus, her swelling belly had been an inexplicable mystery.
Trisha had claimed the child’s true parent was Mechius himself.
That the child would be born into this world in human form—the key of Mechius.
— Please, protect the child well until then.
It was true that he had not cared much for the child at first.
He had only granted Trisha’s plea to raise the unborn child as his daughter.
The ancient vow of the Winchester progenitor mattered little to him.
But watching the child grow turned out to be unexpectedly joyful.
Like clothes soaked slowly by a drizzle, he found himself unable to look away anymore.
“…Yes.”
It was only after a long silence that Ricardo answered.
A cool yet profound smile briefly touched his lips before fading.
I was sentenced to two weeks of reflection from this morning as punishment for my reckless actions.
The doctor came to confirm Evan’s ability had stabilized and left. Evan himself was forbidden from leaving his room for the time being.
I heard Maya was harshly scolded by the head maid for failing to stop me.
Her punishment was to spend an entire week buried under piles of laundry in the washhouse.
I felt guilty toward Maya, but she told me it was fine.
— Somehow, I just knew you would manage it, my lady. Strangely enough.
She seemed to trust me more now than before.
That showed just how terrifying Evan’s rampage had been.
The room was wrecked, the door blown off—had I not stopped him, the entire mansion might have gone up.
‘Still… isn’t he weaker than before?’
It was certainly possible.
His ability, which should have manifested at age four, had only appeared at twelve. If Evan was weaker than in my previous regression, then perhaps there was no hope in this round either.
I shook my head. I couldn’t allow myself such negative thoughts.
Perhaps it was just late blooming, and he might turn out even stronger.
In any case, I had no intention of dying young—whether from illness or from the world ending.
Knock knock—
I was in the middle of writing a letter to Grandfather Hector when someone knocked.
Who could it be while I was under restriction?
“Come in.”
At my word, a maid opened the door—and through it stepped Jin, looking immaculate.
I blinked once and slipped down from my chair.
The last time I had seen Jin was last night in front of Evan’s room.
I had heard he sent a message to Arkada, seeking a way to restrain Evan.
But before the connection was made, I had already calmed Evan down.
Thus, no one outside our family knew of Evan’s rampage.
Not even the Tailors themselves.
After hearing the news, Jin had rushed back—and at the sight of his face, I had fainted. I remembered nothing after that.
“Apple pie.”
At his words, I finally noticed what he was holding.
“I was hungry—thank you, brother!”
A smile spread across my face before I could help it.
With Maya being punished, it had been hard to get any decent snacks.
The older maid temporarily serving me had forbidden sweets, saying they’d rot my teeth.
Other maids sometimes snuck me small treats, but they were never enough!
How could I not be delighted at apple pie and honey tea?
“Thank you. I’ll eat well.”
I couldn’t hide my joy.
“Would you like to—”
“….”
Of course, Jin’s expression was stern. I should have known.
I happily grabbed a piece of pie and asked,
“By the way, are you okay? You looked hurt before.”
I remembered blood on Jin’s clothes.
“…It was his blood.”
“Oh… thank goodness.”
I smiled lightly, about to take a bite of pie, when Jin’s voice stopped me.
“What exactly is ‘thank goodness’?”
I froze and looked at him.
Only then did I realize, from his icy stare, that he was angry.
Because no black flames were leaking from his body this time, I hadn’t thought much of it.
“I’ve never known regret before… but seeing this, I…”
Back then, even the air had felt heavier.
‘Of course… he must be angry.’
I had acted recklessly, after all. Maybe I looked too carefree, smiling just over some pie.
Jin took a step closer, bending slightly at the knee.
When he raised a hand toward me, I instinctively flinched and shrank my shoulders.
“I’m so angry I could lose my mind.”
His hand touched my cheek.
The shallow cut from Cheongmyeong’s blade had yet to heal.
The black flame he had been restraining spread faintly into the air, mingled with chilling cold.
“…I should have killed him in the training yard. I truly regret not doing it.”
His low voice carried a fierce gaze.
“Then you wouldn’t have been hurt at all.”
It felt as though Jin’s usual ruthless rationality had vanished, leaving my chest tight with unease.
