Chesterfield Mansion: The House of the Man Who Hates Me - Chapter 44

 The age gap between Celian and Beth was over ten years. She worried that if she insisted on her method, Beth might end up embarrassed. 

 Her expression grew serious. She would need to at least hear about how teenage boys and girls convey their love these days. 

 But the maids at the Chesterfield mansion weren’t appropriate conversation partners. Marsha, who had worked there so long even the head butler couldn’t easily handle her, and all the others except Celian, who had saved the young duke against the duke’s implicit wishes, watched the duke’s reactions. Naturally, they wouldn’t even try to speak with her. 

 However, this was the Schwenn estate. With a wedding today, it was perfect timing for love-struck youths to gather in groups by age and chat. 

 Having made up her mind, Celian put on her hood and quietly headed for the back door. The head maid who was tidying the backyard acknowledged her. 

 “Miss Berienne, where are you going?” 

 “I’d like some fresh air. May I go out?” 

 “Of course. Please enjoy yourself.” 

 Though she had come with Chesterfield, she was still a guest, and moreover, Marcotti’s daughter. Count Schwenn, who firmly believed Chesterfield’s people were keeping Celian with good intentions, took special care to accommodate her. 

 Thanks to this, her movements here were relatively free. After asking the maid to pass along a message if anyone looked for her, Celian set out at a quick pace. 

 The town wasn’t far from the townhouse. Her leisurely stroll around the market came to a stop in front of a restaurant. It was where people spent the most time and had the most conversations. Subtly slowing her pace, she observed the comfortable appearance of the country folk. 

 At each table spread out in front of the wooden two-story building sat three or four people with food. From their conversation, it seemed the woman who got married today was the restaurant owner’s daughter. The man apparently ran the butcher shop over there. Celian felt warm hearing the modest people’s conversations.

This was a scene only possible outside of Humingham. In the capital, no owner would tolerate guests lingering and making noise long past closing time. The guests, who were accustomed to returning to their nests at set times, wouldn’t think of making unreasonable demands either. 

 She thought once more.

‘I’m glad I came along.’ 

 While she couldn’t claim it was entirely her own will, wasn’t it fine since it ultimately made her happy? 

 Her steps grew stronger as she passed the restaurant. The old men’s songs of past love were hardly suitable for her curiosity about fresh teenage romance. 

 Wondering where she might achieve her goal, Celian brought her hands to her mouth.

‘I made a mistake.’ 

 Thinking teenagers Beth’s age would be out at this late hour—she had clearly chosen the wrong time to venture out. 

 Though she gained nothing, her mood had improved. That alone made the outing worthwhile. As Celian was planning to look around a bit more before heading back, her eyes widened. There was a particularly crowded spot.

‘Is it the newly married couple?’ 

 As she got closer, she realized people were gathered around a bulletin board. The notice board for posting announcements and village notices—the bustling crowd sparked her curiosity. 

 “Excuse me, let me through.” 

 She barely pushed through the chaotic crowd. Someone’s gaze fell on Celian as she held down her hood. 

 “……” 

 It was her. 

 Celian Berienne’s smiling face was looking back at her. Nearly white hair and oddly unfocused sky-blue eyes. A young woman wearing elaborate jewels around her neck and ears, with a tiara fit for a queen atop her head. 

 Murmurs rose behind her.

“Isn’t that Berienne?”

“Marcotti Berienne?”

“He’s dead, it’s his daughter. Why is this picture posted here?” 

 This picture, why, here. As Celian stood rooted to the spot, someone bumped her side. 

 “Oh, I’m sorry……” 

 The initial contact was clearly accidental. The man’s eyes widened as he glanced at the unresponsive Miss. 

 “Berienne?” 

 His dramatic gesturing between the woman standing vividly beside him and the face posted on the bulletin board was excessive. 

 “Why is Berienne here?” 

 The surroundings instantly grew noisy.

“Is it really Berienne?”

“Is that woman really her? She’s still alive and not dead?”

“Shh, how can you say that to her face.”

“How unlucky! Whose fault do you think it is why the country’s in this state!” 

 Someone pulled down her hood. The crowd grew even more raucous as they recognized her distinct silver hair. 

 “Silver hair, it is her!” 

 The depicted Celian was neither past, present, nor future. She had never had such empty eyes, nor worn a tiara and elaborate jewels. The crude drawing, meant only to amplify hatred toward her, seemed to cackle. 

 Only one person would do such a thing.

Ophelia Montes. 

 The hastily pulled down hood was pulled back again. 

 “Please stop!” 

 It was chaos. The cycle of putting on and pulling off the hood repeated. 

 The villagers meant no real harm. They were merely curious if she was truly Marcotti Berienne’s daughter. They just wanted something to boast about to their families waiting at home—that they had seen Marcotti Berienne’s daughter. To them, the woman who became their spectacle was someone they could treat this way. 

 Coming to her senses, Celian gripped her hood firmly. 

 “Stop this. How rude.” 

 The people hesitated at the woman’s composure in such a flustering situation. Just as Celian was about to step away, taking a breath— 

 A bony, skeletal hand grabbed Celian’s wrist. 

 “Is it you?” 

 A metallic voice emerged from a face full of hatred. 

 “Are you that bastard?” 

 Her body was pushed and fell onto the dirt. The basket she had brought, hoping to find a suitable gift for Beth, rolled away helplessly. 

 The old woman lunged forward. 

 “You deserve to be torn to pieces, you should burn in hell!” 

 The hood in the old woman’s dirty hands tore with a ripping sound. She grabbed Celian’s white collar with both hands and spewed curses. 

 “Someone like you deserves to be burned a thousand times and cut up ten thousand times. Your limbs should be torn apart and thrown to the crows……” 

 “……” 

 “Then my son would……” 

 She could have pushed her away easily. But Celian only blinked with dazed eyes. Her head rang from the shaking. The old woman cursing and holding her reached for the ground with her right hand. 

 A man finally pulled the old woman away when he saw her grab a fist-sized stone. 

 “Old woman, you’ll kill someone! Come to your senses, this Miss isn’t that bastard!” 

 “……” 

 Both the old woman and the man spoke of ‘that bastard.’ The old woman’s grudge was directed at her father. Her father who had sent the old woman’s son to war. 

 The man who pulled the old woman away gestured to Celian. It meant he was sorry for the unintended commotion and she should leave quickly. 

 Celian put on her dirt-covered hood. No one pursued the stumbling woman as she left. 

 Her existence meant just that much. Someone annoying and unpleasant to look at, but not worth the effort to actively seek out and harm. Her father deserved death, but she just needed to remain unseen. 

 Therefore, Celian had no reason to flee desperately. But she ran. Away from the market’s bright lights, toward the darkest places she could find. 

 The bright lights weren’t meant for her. Darkness suited her better. She needed a world of complete darkness where nothing could be seen, where she could be truly alone without longing or resentment. 

 “……” 

 The commotion could no longer be heard. The darkness she desired enveloped her surroundings. As she looked around, she spotted a familiar platform. 

 The outdoor wedding venue apparently also served as a chapel. The massive cross she had missed earlier, distracted by the happy faces of the bride and groom, now caught her eye. 

 Relief that she hadn’t completely lost her way brushed past her. Just as she turned away after staring peacefully at the cross for a moment—

“……” 

 Pitch-black darkness surrounded her in every direction. She could see five massive trees right in front of her that she thought she had passed. The paths carved out by locals and hunters were so confusing that she couldn’t distinguish between the direction to the village and the way deeper into the forest. 

 The cross cast its shadow on the uneven stone ground. 

 This chapel was the only place with lit lamps in the forest. Which meant that while she could stay in the chapel, she couldn’t return until sunrise. 

 Today too, God had dramatically bestowed despair upon those who had been led here by seemingly reasonable hope. 

 ***

 “Miss Berienne hasn’t returned?”

“That’s right. She said she was going out for a bit……” 

 Cold sweat trickled down Count Schwenn’s round face. 

 Though he couldn’t say it, Celian was special to him too. He had hoped she would be comfortable at least at his estate, since she might not be free to go out in the capital, but now this unfortunate incident had occurred. 

 “Moreover, a maid who returned from the market brought some unpleasant news.” 

 Someone had played a cruel prank. The crude portrait the maid had hurriedly torn down didn’t capture even a quarter of her true likeness. 

 A situation that could only be explained by someone’s malice. Count Schwenn bowed his head apologetically after explaining what had happened at the market. 

 “Someone saw her heading into the forest. I’ll send people to search for her right away.” 

 “……” 

 “Should we inform His Grace the Duke?” 

 After first receiving the report of Celian’s disappearance, Count Schwenn had been conflicted. 

 Normally, he should have gone directly to the Duke, but from what he had observed over the past few days, the Duke still didn’t seem to be in his right mind. Despite being invited, he stayed holed up in his room, refusing even the Count’s proposals to go hunting.