"...Matters between a couple are issues that the couple should resolve between themselves."
"Isn't this something that can be dismissed as a personal matter?"
"She decided to go back without making a fuss."
"..."
"It looks like there's nowhere else to go."
Millea looked closely at Julian's expression.
She wonders if he read something in it.
She nodded a couple of times and then walked away, leaving Julian behind.
"...Rhen."
Until then, Julian stood frozen in silence.
"..."
The door closed and silence fell.
No, he thought so, but the bottle of wine in his hand cracked and broke with a bang.
He looked at his hand, which was bleeding from a glass shard cut.
As if that were Isaac's face.
***
Bang!
I, who had been quietly staying in her room at Millea's request not to wander around during the day, looked at the roughly opened door.
Julian standing there.
I, who had guessed that he was coming from the flow of magi, finally got up.
"Julian."
Compared to his rough appearance, his aura was cold and expressionless.
Only the flowing blood seemed to represent his passion.
"You have no place to go?"
"Julian. Blood...!"
When I, startled by the sight of his blood, reached out my hand, he grabbed my arm.
Blood flowed from the wound, running down my skin and dripping from my fingertips.
"Just tell me. If you want, I'll throw you in the dungeon."
He pulled me with a calm expression as if he didn't feel any pain.
Our faces became close enough that our breaths touched.
He tilted his head lazily and looked into my eyes, muttering.
"Wouldn't my prison be more comfortable than the cesspool you're trying to return to?"
It was a dangerous look.
"In that cesspool, you will be a puppet, used cruelly, but in my prison, all you have to do is sleep quietly."
He smiled sharply.
"It will be a sweet rest."
"...Julian."
I placed my hand over Julian's bleeding hand.
"You won't kill me."
My confident eyes gazed gently at Julian.
I saw his true heart at the end of my past life.
I knew what was in his heart, the confessions he had been making while crying and desperately.
No matter how violent he was, I wasn't afraid.
The more he loved, the more it hurt, and the more it hurt, the more angry he got.
Since I was the one who caused him that pain, I had no intention of avoiding his anger.
"I won't be afraid of you."
Julian's gaze wavered at my calm gaze.
He tried to smile and pretend to be relaxed.
"Do you want that to happen, or do you expect me to be a miserable person still hung up on my ex-lover who betrayed me?"
"I'm not saying that with such shallow calculations."
"Ha, that's funny. You must be mistaken. I hate you."
"I know."
"Now that you've appeared before me, I can't help but kill you for betraying me."
I took out a handkerchief and tied it to Julian's wound.
Julian frowned at that indifferent attitude.
"You're being too easygoing. Can't you read the situation? Our relationship isn't that complicated."
However, the emotions revealed in Julian's eyes as he spoke like that seemed very complicated.
I, who had gathered the ends of my handkerchief and tied them neatly in a knot, looked up at Julian.
"Don't kill me, take me, Julian."
"What?"
"You can do that now. If you don't want me to go back to my husband, take me away from him. He's a bastard who would sell me out to you if you even showed any sign of wanting me. You know that."
My hand gently cupped his cheek.
"Use him to get me on your lap."
"..."
"I will sit on you and act all cute for you in front of my pitiful husband. Until you are free. Until I can comfort you."
Sugar-like words melted and flowed from the tip of my tongue.
"If you tell me to dance, I'll dance. If you tell me to die. I'll pretend to die."
"..."
"I'll be a clown just for you."
Julian's eyes wavered.
Before I knew it, the once fierce momentum had died down.
He was silent for a moment and then turned around.
"That's funny."
It was a limp voice.
I silently watched his disappearing back.
Just before he turned around, the thought 'Is that okay?' was clearly written on his face.
He seemed like a person who was rather disappointed by receiving unexpected permission.
I saw it and realized.
He never thought of using power or force to keep me by his side.
'Who is the tyrant?'
If he really was a heartless tyrant, then forcing the people he wanted by his side would be nothing.
"You were worried about me."
As soon as he heard that I was returning to Winston Mansion, he came running.
Although he may have tried to hide his true feelings with harsh words and actions, I, who knew his true feelings, clearly saw him looking worried and helpless. The answer was the same as what I heard.
He will call me back to the palace.
Julian, I am here, and I will give this life to you.
For his glory and happiness. I don't care if I become a villainess that the whole world points a finger at, or if I become some kind of shameless person.
'I will even use my revenge as fertilizer to build you up.'
There were many ways to push Isaac and Penelope off the edge of the cliff.
It was not yet the time to plan to let them fall.
I had to return to Winston Mansion.
The traps haven't been set enough yet.
***
Penelope was looking down from the second-floor window at Josh's back as he walked back from his visit to the Winstons.
He came every day for several days, begging Isaac to wait for Bridget.
He wanted Isaac to reconsider the divorce, saying that if he found that girl, he would grab her by the hair and make her beg for forgiveness.
'Tch, that's too bad. He didn't even know Bridget was dead.'
Penelope placed her hand on the glass window with a pitiful expression and looked at Josh's back.
"Don't make that face, Penelope."
Isaac, who had come into the room without her realizing it, dropped Penelope from the window.
"Don't show that you know Bridget is dead. What if Josh finds out later?"
"I'm sorry. Isaac, but I feel so sorry for Bridget."
Penelope wiped away her tears.
"Who would have thought that something like that would happen to someone fine just a few days ago? It's so absurd."
"I shouldn't have told you, you're so tender-hearted."
"What are you talking about? I need to be your strength at times like this. You must be anxious and having a hard time too."
Penelope hugged Isaac.
"Do you think it's my fault? Do you think Bridget feels the same way? And will she curse me and try to block my path even after she dies?"
Isaac looked anxious.
But what he really feared was not the curse of the dead Bridget, but the political fallout that would result from Bridget's body being found at the Count of Kensington's mansion.
"They say all the bodies have been recovered, but there's still no word on the body believed to be Bridget."
Isaac kept his ears peeled for rumors, wondering if there were any unidentified bodies or stories about the body of a blonde woman.
"You can't even tell for sure."
"If there hasn't been any news by now, there probably won't be any in the future. Don't worry too much, Isaac."
Penelope soothed Isaac by stroking his back.
"Bridget will understand that you did it out of necessity to raise the family's status. That's why it has not been discovered until now. For you. For the Winston family."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, our good Bridget."
Isaac nodded in reassurance at Penelope's words.
"Yes. She was a good woman. Gentle."
The dead were glorified for the comfort of the living.
Moreover, for some people, death can be a one-sided means of reconciliation.
"I miss Bridget. My precious and one-of-a-kind friend..."
Penelope, freed from the need to be jealous of or compete with Bridget, mourned for her sincerely.
All the feelings of inferiority and self-esteem she had towards Bridget disappeared, and only the good feelings remained, making her miss the dead Bridget even more.
At the same time, she was intoxicated by her own goodness for not being happy and grieving over the death of his lover's wife.
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