Tamed Monster - Chapter 57

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Ugh.”

From the very early morning, the rude knocking woke Sylvia abruptly and she hurriedly got up from her bed.

Since the honest conversation they had last night, her husband had ridden out alone around midnight and hadn’t returned yet. Besides, he never knocked on her bedroom door like this.

“Sylvia! Get up right now.”

The familiar voice at the door belonged to none other than Lady Rossa, the second most recognizable voice in the castle.

She clearly couldn’t tolerate Sylvia staying bedridden for an entire month despite repeated warnings and veiled threats from her son. By now, Sylvia had shown remarkable patience for her.

Taking advantage of Sylia’s husband’s absence, Lady Rossa barged into the bedroom. Sylvia responded slowly—not to taunt her, but simply because her body was too sluggish to move faster.

But the raging anger on Rossa’s face when the door opened was unmistakable. Sylvia stared blankly, wondering if she was about to be slapped again.

Rossa’s arm was still in a splint after getting injured badly on the day of the intruder’s attack.

“You’re insufferable.”

Though not laced with curses, the accusation sounded coarse to Sylvia.

The hateful glare Rossa gave her was so fierce that even the mustachioed head attendant by her side twitched nervously. Oddly, Sylvia didn’t feel afraid.

The truly terrifying presence wasn’t here—it was out riding away from the castle—and even Rossa felt like a manageable opponent. Maybe it was just nerves or some strange synergy, but Sylvia was so bored she was on the verge of yawning. She barely held back the urge.

“…Are you sleepy now?”

Snorting disdainfully, Rossa stepped into the bedroom, brushing past Sylvia’s shoulder.

A sudden surge of irritation bubbled up in Sylvia. Not long ago, she’d never felt such hostility toward Rossa, yet now the slightest provocation set her off easily.

Sylvia gave the head attendant a look.

“Make sure she doesn’t interfere.”

It seemed the master of this castle had clearly instructed him to keep things under control. Sylvia didn’t need his help—she was capable of managing the situation herself.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar confidence arose in her, like magic overnight. Rossa whirled around sharply, and Sylvia opened her loosely draped slip gown with one hand.

“What brings you here?”

“What brings me here? Is that even a question? How can you lie around in bed for an entire month doing nothing but loafing?”

Sylvia’s mouth was full of retorts.

“I’m in pain.”

“In pain, you say—”

“Didn’t Sir Lancart say it himself? That he made me sick? Because of that terrible illness he gave me, I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.”

Honestly, her legs still trembled. She could steady herself for a few minutes at a time, but the moment Rossa left the room, she might collapse again.

Rossa’s mocking smile returned immediately, apparently seeing Sylvia as perfectly healthy.

“What nonsense. My son never said he made you sick.”

He occasionally came by to nag her not to bother his wife but never explained why she was ill or why he fussed over her so much. Rossa took out her frustrations with her daughter-in-law as usual.

“Truly without conscience.”

“Conscience… what? Was that meant for me?”

Startled by Sylvia’s harsh words, Rossa shouted and raised her voice.

Unable to hold back, Sylvia’s expression briefly showed her true feelings as she furrowed her brows and shook her head.

“No.”

Meaning the insult was really aimed at her son.

This only angered Rossa more. How dare Sylvia call her son—her family’s treasured hero—a man without conscience? Clearly, this girl had lost her mind.

After years of nagging and mistreatment from her husband, her suppressed emotions finally erupted. It seemed Lancart had been too lenient lately.