DLYTL 11

Chapter – 11

She wasn’t hurt by the sudden change in attitude overnight.

Yes, it had never really been hers to begin with.

The expensive clothes and watches, the jewelry, the clean, spacious room, even her parents’ love—none of it had been truly hers.

She was just returning what had never belonged to her.

“It was never mine from the start. Everything.”

Since it had never been hers, there was no reason to feel wronged or resent the couple whose attitudes had flipped like a coin.

She tried to think that way…

But then, a young noble who looked almost identical to her—but somehow exuded an air of ease unlike her own—whispered lowly:

“I will take everything from you. Because a wretch like you dared to pretend to be me and covet my life. I’ll even make a deal with the devil to scrape up your soul and drink every drop of your blood. You, a beggar, dared to covet my place, so surely some revenge is deserved, right?”

Looking at the boy smiling like an angel, Icali felt a sense of alienation for the first time.

A boy with the same face as hers now appeared as a devil disguised in human flesh.

And when she followed Warren’s gaze, saw him finally push the blade toward his last treasure, Icali felt, for the first time, an impulse to kill someone.

The rain, which had seemed like it would stop quickly, continued to pour relentlessly into the night.

Rising from the sofa, Icali approached the window, staring blankly at the falling rain.

It felt as if she had awakened from anesthesia, as though she had been dreaming for a long time.

When had it gotten so late?

Rubbing her stiff eyelids, she called for the butler.

In a low, quiet voice, he asked:

“Has Psyche returned?”

“That is…”

The butler, unusually, trailed off at the end of his sentence, and Icali frowned.

“She hasn’t returned yet?”

“It seems the sudden heavy rain disrupted carriage operations.”

Whenever mud formed, carriages always struggled.

For someone like Icali, who usually traveled on horseback, this was a minor inconvenience—but the fact that Psyche had not returned by now was troubling.

Suddenly, a thought struck her: perhaps she had run away.

If she despised the monster who had killed her father, hated living under the same roof more than death, perhaps she really had.

Who could ever willingly live under the same roof as a murderer?

No matter how deep their childhood connection…

Though she understood this in her mind, her body acted automatically. She changed into a lighter shirt and headed down the corridor.

She just wanted to confirm it.

Had Psyche truly fled from her?

As she walked through the dim corridor and descended to the first floor, the faint sound of a carriage approaching reached her.

Soon, she could hear Psyche and the maid she had been traveling with speaking to the coachman in a flustered manner.

Psyche had returned.

Hearing that, the reason for her solitary descent suddenly felt pointless.

Her tension melted, and her previously fuzzy mind cleared.

“What am I even doing right now?”

It seemed her worry had been unnecessary.

A small laugh escaped her without realizing it.

Despite having vowed not to covet Psyche, why was she so restless now?

Immediately, her mood noticeably sank.

All her promises—that she married only for virtue, that it was all to safeguard Psyche, who had lost her chance for a proper match because of him—now seemed shallow, hypocritical.

After all, a princess and an orphan could never truly love each other.

She felt disgusted with herself for instinctively coveting what she shouldn’t.

Soon after, the door opened, and Psyche, wearing a raincoat, entered the mansion.

Seeing Icali standing in the central hall, she widened her eyes in surprise.

“Duke?”

Psyche calling him “Duke” didn’t sit well with Icali.

A cold, prickly feeling rose in him.

“This morning she could call me by name just fine…”

Psyche’s pale cheeks, damp from the cold spring rain, and the ends of her brown hair soaked through, made Icali exhale deeply.

Instinctively, he stepped closer and brushed the rain from her shoulders.

Psyche flinched in surprise.

Though he was startled by her reaction, seeing her like this made him feel almost like a rogue.

Even when escorting her from the carriage, Psyche had seemed uneasy, as if he would crush her hand.

“…Do you have to be startled every time my hand touches you, making people uncomfortable?”

Icali’s voice, low and sharp, made Psyche momentarily roll her eyes in confusion.

“I didn’t mean to. I was just surprised…”

Her voice trailed as she lowered her gaze.

She hadn’t expected to run into Icali at this hour.

Seeing him standing in the hall as if waiting for her, Psyche’s heart seemed to drop.

Icali looked at her with a displeased expression.

“Don’t look at me with those disappointed eyes as if I’ve done something wrong.”

“…”

“At least with you, I haven’t done anything.”

Psyche’s eyes wavered with unease.

Somehow, Icali’s gaze seemed wounded.

“Haven’t done anything…”

She briefly felt a pang of recognition.

In her previous life, when he swung his sword at her, the pain had been unbearable.

Not the sharp blade—but his indifference.

The Icali of her previous life had treated her as invisible for four years. He had never spoken to her, never escorted her, never brushed the rain off her shoulders.

Yet now, the same cold former husband looked at her with a gaze that seemed unjust.

It made her feel both chastised and like a pitiful, abandoned creature.

Psyche’s face momentarily filled with confusion.

“Could it be that, like me, this man has changed?”

Could this life be different?

She unconsciously met his gaze with a mixture of hope, only to quickly pull herself back as if doused with cold water.

Just because he became slightly kinder, it didn’t erase the four years of unreturned effort, or the chilling cold of over a hundred days in captivity.

Psyche chastised herself for being so naive.

Even animals were smarter. No dog would wag its tail for someone trying to kill it.

And yet she had expected love from a murderer.

No wonder she had been killed.

Her mind was filled with voices of judgment.

She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the sounds, and after a few seconds, opened them and gave a dry, wry smile.

“The Duke has changed a lot from what I knew. Past and present.”

Taking a deep breath, she met his eyes steadily and said:

“I was disappointed in you. But you know… disappointment only works if there are expectations.”

Icali looked at her, puzzled by her words.

She, warning herself, drew strength into her cold body and spoke firmly:

“I won’t be disappointed in you anymore. I won’t expect anything, and I won’t bother you. Our relationship won’t change at all. So don’t change either.”

The spring rain finally stopped by dawn the next day.

When Psyche opened the windows wide in the morning, the scent of wet grass filled the bedroom. Dew glistened on the garden’s grass and flowers.

She inhaled the crisp, cold morning air deeply.

Sometimes, even after days and nights, she could hardly feel that she was alive.

Because of the chill left by the spring rain, she wore a cardigan over her pajamas and sat at the small table in her room.

She prepared a simple breakfast of bread and soup on a silver tray. Just as she was about to rise, Anna brought over a small glass dish.

“What’s this?”

“Ice cream, ma’am. Whenever you’re feeling down, you always look for ice cream.”

Indeed, a single scoop of yellow ice cream sat in the glass dish.

Though she was no longer a child, Anna still seemed to see her as a young princess, barely an adult.

Psyche gave a bemused smile and turned her gaze to Anna.

“Did I… look that sad?”

“Oh, you don’t even need to ask! Lately, it’s my greatest wish for you to be happy every day.”

Anna fussed, and as Psyche rose, she made her sit again.

Psyche widened her eyes at the dish, took a bite of the ice cream flavored with macadamia and honey, and felt the sweet, nutty taste fill her mouth.

“It’s really delicious.”

Hearing that, Anna smiled contentedly.