The Ring of Bondage - Chapter 2.12

When Serabella smiled, her cheeks flushed faintly. When Serabella danced, she kept time by twitching the fingers of their joined hands. She liked champagne more than wine, and she was more startled by the sound of a cello string snapping than by one of her hairpins falling.

Damian could tell all of that even from afar. If she were not a witch, how could Damian have seen all of that? If Serabella were not a witch, why had Damian’s heart hurt as if it were being crushed when she left the banquet hall?

Therefore, Serabella was certainly a witch.

Damian had once heard about Terca’s bloodline. That they had been able to take the lead in witch hunts because they were a sacred bloodline unaffected by dark magic. Damian hadn’t believed those words. When he thought there were no witches in the world, he also thought there was no dark magic, so immunity to it was naturally a false rumor as well.

Now, Damian didn’t believe the rumor about his bloodline for an entirely different reason. Because Damian himself loved Serabella because of her dark magic.

Yes. Damian loved Serabella. He couldn’t endure it without loving her. Because she was a witch. The reason Damian’s love wasn’t as beautiful as others claimed love to be was also because Serabella was a witch. Therefore, Damian was innocent. Damian loved Serabella helplessly while remaining blameless. Yes. Helplessly.

Damian wanted to have Serabella. He wanted to put her somewhere no one else’s gaze could reach and be the only one to covet her. He wanted to monopolize her. He wanted to know everything about her, and he wanted no one else to know her. At the same time, Damian didn’t want to look at anyone if it wasn’t her.

Every moment without her was dull. Everyone who wasn’t her felt vulgar and ignorant. Compared to her, they were people without any value at all.

Compared to them, what of Serabella? Even if he couldn’t approach her, Damian knew enough about her. She played the violin more skillfully than the piano, but sometimes she deliberately missed a note. She was short, so even standing on tiptoe, she couldn’t pluck flowers from a tree. When she had worries, she had a habit of looking at the tea leaves in the teapot, and when something made her happy, she smiled while clasping both hands tightly together.

Without approaching her, Damian could know all of that. But knowing wasn’t enough. Damian wanted to have Serabella. He had to put all of her in his hands.

Perhaps it had been an inevitable sequence of events that Damian, who had hidden himself in the castle to meet Serabella, ran into Tocelli’s eldest son. He noticed that Damian was after Serabella, and he made a fuss.

Then what choice was there? The brother had to be eliminated.

Thanks to that, the head of Tocelli captured Damian and threw him into the underground prison, and Damian was finally able to see Serabella right before his eyes.

As expected, Damian was lucky. Because in exchange for killing her older brother, he met Serabella. Beautiful Serabella. A witch who, with her pure and delicate appearance, cast wicked magic and stole his heart.

Serabella had even spirited Damian away herself. In a place beyond the head of the family’s gaze, she immediately kissed Damian. The moment his head went dizzy from the thick rose scent, Serabella pushed a strange spell into his mouth and forced him to swear obedience to her.

At that moment, Damian was able to realize everything.

That Serabella loved him too. That dark magic truly didn’t work on Damian Terca, and therefore, the reason he had come to love Serabella wasn’t because of her magic.

Damian’s love had never once been an ‘unavoidable’ emotion. It had never been that way. Every feeling he had for her was entirely Damian’s own.

Damian stared blankly at Serabella. At her eyes, filled with expectation, at her small, straight nose and red lips.

At last, Damian smiled brightly and swore eternal obedience to her.