Chapter 59
The moment she opened her eyes, the first thing Evelyn did was glance beside her out of habit.
The other side of the bed was empty. There was no lingering warmth. No impression left in the sheets. It was as though no one had ever been there.
She lay staring blankly at the vacant space for a long moment before slowly pushing herself upright, her body heavy with fatigue.
“Haah…”
A sound escaped her lips. Whether it was a sigh or a bitter laugh, even she couldn’t tell.
She had never been someone who slept deeply. Fate had denied her that luxury for her entire life.
In the days when the slightest lapse in vigilance meant death, she had trained herself to react instantly to the smallest sound, the faintest disturbance.
It was simply the price of being an assassin. She had never resented it.
But ever since Evelia Locke had ceased to exist, Evelyn Brumfield had begun falling into deep, dreamless sleep.
The life of the Duchess of Brumfield was comfortable. There were no threats to her life. She could have anything she wanted without lifting so much as a finger. Somewhere along the way, she had stopped instinctively searching for the presence of others.
Then again, perhaps she simply hadn’t been able to sense him. If that man vanished as effortlessly as mist dispersing into the air, it was only natural that she would never notice his presence.
Don’t think about it anymore. There was no point trying to make sense of a being so utterly beyond reason. No amount of thought would ever lead her to an answer.
As she pushed herself upright, the remnants of the previous night rushed over her all at once. A dull ache lingered deep in her hips, and despite the absence of a single bruise, every inch of her body throbbed.
“Ngh…!”
These days, even soreness like this was enough to draw a groan from her lips. She had once been a woman who wouldn’t scream even with a knife buried in her flesh. Just how weak had she become?
Frowning, Evelyn climbed out of bed. The moment she slipped her feet into her slippers, something thick and sticky trickled down between her thighs.
“…Fxck.”
The curse escaped her automatically. Grabbing the blanket without a second thought, Evelyn wiped herself off roughly before clenching her teeth.
The memory of the previous night surfaced. The way she had clung to the Duke, surrendering to pleasure.
It was almost laughable how completely her words and actions had contradicted one another. No matter how much fear, resignation, and revulsion she felt…
She had still begged him for pleasure.
She hated to admit it, but she had to. She liked having s*x with that man. Like some beast that had been thoroughly tamed…
Pushing aside the crushing self-loathing, Evelyn rang the bell for a maid. As though she had been waiting just outside, Laura hurried into the room at once, a dressing gown draped neatly over one arm.
“My lady! Are you awake? I’ll have your bath prepared right away. Oh! What would you like to do about breakfast? Shall I have it brought up to your room again?”
Evelyn simply stared at the chattering maid.
She knew perfectly well what state she was in.
The remnants of the man still slipped slowly down the insides of her thighs. The sensitive tips of her brxxsts, where he had lavished so much attention the night before, remained stubbornly erxct.
And that wasn’t all. Faint bite marks — she couldn’t even remember when he’d left them — were scattered across her body like little brands. Dry, pale traces of bodily fluids, whose they were no longer mattered, still clung to her skin.
“It’s a beautiful day today, my lady! Just a moment.”
Without so much as batting an eye at the mistress’s naked body, still covered in the unmistakable traces of a debauched night, Laura slipped the dressing gown over Evelyn’s shoulders. She did it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
People were creatures of habit, weren’t they?
Absurdly enough, Evelyn herself accepted Laura’s attentive care as nonchalantly as she always had.
It all felt hollow. Meaningless.
A body softened by comfort. A spirit worn down into helplessness. A life that would never change…
For the first time, Evelyn felt as though she had lost herself. Even after obtaining the peaceful life she had always longed for.
She knew why.
Unlike Evelia Locke, Evelyn Brumfield no longer possessed that fierce determination to live.
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.