Chapter 17
“My daughter, Irene.”
But it was only after hearing the Duke of Rostelle’s subsequent words that she snapped to attention.
Daughter. She didn’t want to hear that term from him.
A shiver as if insects were crawling all over her body erupted. Even when she clenched her forearm tightly, the sensation didn’t fade.
‘Was it for the love of such a man that I tried so hard?’
Tears welled up at the thought of her past efforts. But now was not the time to cry, so she held back, again and again.
“You’ve become the Saint. I am proud of you!”
Looking at the Duke of Rostelle, who was filled with joy and spread his arms wide, she felt disgust.
It wouldn’t be hard to express that emotion and drive him away. The temple was the Saint’s space; she could easily manage that.
‘But would that be enough?’
No, merely that wouldn’t satisfy her. Therefore, Irene smiled. She smiled as if delighted by the love she had just received.
The Duke of Rostelle smiled back, but his expression couldn’t have seemed more repulsive.
Suppressing the urge to scream and chase him away right then, she spoke.
“Thank you. But I’m not feeling well today, so I do not think I can be with the Duke.”
“If you’re not feeling well, you should rest! And calling me ‘Duke’? Call me ‘father.'”
Strength flowed into the hand clutching her forearm. A name she once wanted to call out. But now, a name she did not wish to utter.
She absolutely did not want to let that word pass her lips.
Yet, Irene smiled and said,
“Yes, father.”
She would place him at the highest peak only to let him fall devastatingly and crawl at the bottom.
With venom in her heart, she spat out the words she didn’t want to say.
“Let’s leave it at that. It seems the Saint is having a hard time.”
Burt intervened, supporting her trembling body.
The Duke, his demeanor changed from before, quickly responded with a bright expression.
“Oh, that won’t do. Hurry and rest then.”
The Duke of Rostelle donned the guise of a caring father, pretending to be concerned. It was so revolting that it nearly made her nauseous.
“You know well. Didn’t you fall from the tower?”
“Unfortunately, yes. It was foolish. Life is precious and valuable.”
When Irene was falsely accused and confined in the tower, the Ducal family did not offer a shred of assistance. They turned their backs, leaving her to fend for herself.
She had learned it all while enduring torture. “Your family has abandoned you.” Her heart shattered into pieces amidst the agony.
Burt’s words made Irene recall that period. Her trembling intensified.
She no longer had the strength to stand. And then, Burt lifted the collapsing Irene in his arms again.
“So, the Saint should go and rest now. Will you step aside?”
“Of course, I’ll make way. Ah, I’m sure the temple will take good care of you, but just in case, I’ll send over the maid who looked after you at the manor.”
The Duke of Rostelle spoke with a pretense of generosity.
However, there was not a single person at the manor who had been kind to Irene. Not even the maids. They ignored, bullied, and mocked her.
“That would be nice. Please do.”
Irene concealed her boiling anger and responded with a smile.
“I’ll send her as soon as possible!”
Leaving the duke, who laughed without understanding her true feelings, she returned to her room.
“Haa, haa.”
She had barely regained her freedom, but her body had already reached its limits. Gasping for breath and clutching her chest, Burt moved to call a physician.
“I’m fine!”
She snapped irritably, slumping onto the bed. Cold sweat ran down her face, and nausea surged along with a headache.
“It would be better to call a physician.”
“I’m okay. Truly, I’m fine.”
She said, shaking her head.
Today, she had seen and heard too much. It was simply that her body couldn’t handle it all at once.
She could never carry out her revenge if it was always like this.
‘I need to become stronger.’
Therefore, she couldn’t afford to have a physician called and be taken care of. She had to overcome this on her own.
As she thought this, a handkerchief touched her forehead.
“You’re sweating a lot.”
It was Burt. Glancing up briefly, she saw him making an indescribable, peculiar expression.
‘What kind of expression is that?’
She wanted to ask, but perhaps due to exhaustion, her eyes began to close.
‘Am I going to faint again?’
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