MPBGS 55

Chapter : 55

Because there was no need to accommodate the slow steps of a child, our pace became much faster.

Ryder, who had been leaning into the butler’s arms and covering his mouth while coughing, broke the silence to speak. He had learned that it was also the duty of those above to provide suitable topics of conversation for those below.

“About Lady Rosenson… are all noble young ladies like that?”

The person he had just seen was the most immediate topic that came to mind. Lady Rosenson was truly strange. From a single strand of hair to a single eyelash, everything about her was excessively refined, to the point of giving a chilling impression to anyone who saw her.

That delicacy was comparable to the transparent glass ornament in Ryder’s room depicting an angel. She had greeted him with such elegance, like a figure carved from hardened glass.

“So I’m supposed to become like that too?”

Her posture was perfect, as if every movement had been calculated down to the angle of her fingertips. Ryder was deeply impressed by her flawless execution of etiquette as described in the etiquette manuals.

“…Well.”

Lark trailed off.

Having devoted his entire life to serving the marquisate and having met many nobles, Lark had never encountered anyone like Evangeline. Because of his experience, he could tell at a glance that Evangeline was not normal—but Ryder was different. The boy had never interacted with noble children his own age.

Ordinarily, children of noble families would grow up socializing with their peers, but Ryder had not been able to do so.

Even if he himself did not remember, when Ryder was younger, the marquis’s wife had once invited children of a countess she frequently associated with, intending to help him form friendships. It was a natural attempt to let him have companions his age.

However, a problem arose. The count’s children told Ryder that “the curse will spread.”

It was obvious where such ignorant children had heard such words from. The marquis’s wife had harshly reprimanded them and cut ties with the countess.

What the countess said afterward was quite something. In her anger, she spouted many offensive remarks she could not take back, but the essence was this: she had sent her children to play with a cursed child abandoned by the gods, yet instead of appreciating that intention, they were offended?

After that, visits to the marquis’s estate became extremely rare. As Ryder’s health deteriorated, they stopped receiving visitors altogether, and Evangeline Rosenson was the first guest in three years.

“You don’t need to become like that.”

At least, he would not live long enough to reach Evangeline’s age anyway. Lark swallowed the rest of his words.

Even so, a faint unease crept in. There had been rumors that Evangeline Rosenson herself had been afflicted by a curse that prevented holy water from working due to her originally weak body. And yet, she now walked about perfectly fine.

If Ryder were somehow to overcome his innate weakness one day, would he become like Evangeline? It was an unpleasant thought.

Unaware of Lark’s thoughts, the cursed child continued chatting.

“I thought Lady Rosenson was an angel who came to take me away after I died.”

Lark clicked his tongue inwardly. Evangeline Rosenson was by no means comparable to something so sacred, and this misunderstanding had clearly been instilled in Ryder by the marquis’s wife.

An angel? How could someone cursed be embraced by the divine? Though he felt sympathy for the child, Lark believed that even in death, Ryder would not find peace.

“Did you feel the same way, Butler?”

“I was frightened.”

“Frightened?”

“Yes. I have no desire to ever face her again.”

Perhaps due to the faint hope that Ryder might grow up like this one day, Lark felt not just discomfort, but fear.

“You really seem to respect Lady Toten, don’t you? You even told me everything about the marquisate’s circumstances, despite having just met me today, out of concern that it might affect her.”

When Ryder had sarcastically accused him of mocking Lady Toten, Lark had felt his heart drop. It felt as though his thoughts had been exposed and laid bare.

Had Ryder sensed something from Lark’s few remarks? Or had he already done background investigation? Or had the marquis’s wife, suspecting Lark’s intentions, asked Ryder to test him?

Such thoughts swirled in his mind.

Just in case the marquis’s wife had truly noticed something, Lark informed Ryder that a guest had arrived, bringing the three of them together. The marquis’s wife still seemed unaware of the truth, but she would soon hear it from Evangeline Rosenson.

However, with the child present, the marquis’s wife would not be able to act recklessly. Lark looked down at the frail life in his arms, breathing shallowly.

“If someone were to see this, they might think you were the master of the marquisate.”

He had never dared to entertain such a thought. Lark was merely dissatisfied that the marquisate he loved had come to bear proof of being abandoned by the gods.

The marquis’s wife, once wise and devoted to her people, had been reduced to a state of squandering her wealth—offering money to the temple for her cursed son, abandoning her estate, and remaining confined to the capital for four years.

Lark believed that instead of a child who would soon die, the marquis’s younger brother, Lord Rauphos, should inherit the family. That would be far more beneficial for the marquisate.

Just comparing the marquisate’s standing now with what it had been ten years ago, when the marquis was still in his prime, made the answer obvious.

As they discussed Evangeline Rosenson, they had already arrived at the room. Lark was about to leave after seeing the child settled when his sleeve was grabbed.

“Butler, I want a lullaby.”

He was referring to the lullaby the marquis’s wife always sang before bedtime.

Under normal circumstances, he would never act so childishly toward the butler, but today he seemed particularly exhausted.

“I’m not as good at singing as the madam, but if that’s alright, I’ll sing for you.”

Lark gently stroked the child’s head and began to sing a rather rough lullaby. His wrinkled old hand stroked Ryder’s head as if trying to drain all vitality from him.

“…Is he asleep?”

Before long, the child had fallen asleep quickly. Lark placed his hand near the child’s nose; feeling the warmth of his breath, he withdrew his hand.

The old hand moved from the child’s soft nose down to his slender neck, gently resting there. Rather than acting directly, the cowardly old man silently hoped that God would take the child’s life soon.

“Please… let him die quickly.”

Lark offered a prayer to a merciful god. Then, holding his breath so as not to wake the child, he left the room.

The hinge creaked as the door closed. In the silence, the steady rhythm of breathing that had matched the ticking clock grew irregular, like ripples disturbed on water.

The child knew very well that the only person who loved him in this world was his mother.

It had been quite some time since the visit to the Toten marquisate. Now, the debutante ball was truly approaching. Counting the days, there were only three left.

What? Only three days left? Even less than I expected. Seriously? When did time pass this quickly?

As I lamented how time seemed to move too fast for everyone except me, Gabriel visited the Rosenson estate again. It was in response to my previous request for him to come once more.

However, perhaps due to his busy schedule, he arrived several hours later than the appointed time. I had been waiting, thinking he wouldn’t come, and had fallen into a deep sleep when I was finally informed of his arrival. I went out to greet him.

How dare he wake my precious sleep? The dream I had was wonderful.

It was a dream of a woman in a white dress gently stroking me. I couldn’t recall her face, but I vaguely remembered calling her “mother.”

It had been a long time since I had such a nostalgic dream with my mother in it—I didn’t expect to be interrupted like that.

Still, since I was the one who had called him, Gabriel was not at fault. The butler must have taken good care of him, as he was waiting leisurely in the reception room. When he first arrived, he had been stiff with tension, but now that he had visited a few times, he was acting as if it were his own home.

Oh? The refreshments were also quite lavishly arranged. The servants who had once been uneasy at the news of a villainess and a holy knight being associated had now grown accustomed to Gabriel’s visits and showed no disturbance.

Gabriel, upon noticing me, stood and greeted me respectfully.

“I apologize, Lady Rosenson. I am late.”

So what if you’re late and disturbed my sleep? Apologizing makes everything okay? Well… yes, it did. As a villainess, I couldn’t exactly complain to the male lead who was practically untouchable.

“Were you busy with work?”

“Yes, to put it plainly. The Palaros Knights are assisting with security at His Highness the Crown Prince’s birthday banquet.”

It almost sounded like he was subtly boasting that he had come to see me despite his busy schedule. Of course, as a stoic male lead, he wouldn’t be phrasing it in a roundabout, sinister way.

Thanks to Dorine’s lessons in rhetoric, everything now sounded like veiled sarcasm with hidden meanings. At this rate, I might misinterpret even genuine compliments and get angry. Then I’d truly become a villainess.

“Did you meet Lady Toten well?”

“Were you not informed?”

“She has not visited the temple since then. I sent letters just in case, but there has been no reply.”

Given Gabriel’s apparent connection with her, I had assumed he would have already heard the details, but it seemed Lady Toten had not visited the temple since. I hadn’t received any contact either.

“Did something happen?”

Though phrased gently, it was essentially an interrogation. Oh no—was Gabriel suspecting me? Surely he didn’t think I had threatened her not to visit the temple?

Given the strange rumors circulating, it seemed his trust in me was starting to waver. I needed to act a little more charming today to tighten the leash again.

“Lady Toten’s son does not seem to have much time left.”

“The young lord?”

If I wanted to handle this properly, I had to speak the truth. If I denied everything and deflected, it would only trigger further scrutiny later.

“The lady asked me if there was a way to cure her child as I had been cured.”

“And what did you answer?”

“That it is impossible unless one offers one’s life to a demon.”

In short, it was completely impossible. Gabriel, knowing that I had possessed Evangeline’s body, would understand that the same method could not apply.

“…Is there truly no method at all?”

Contrary to my expectations, Gabriel asked with doubt.