Chesterfield Mansion: The House of the Man Who Hates Me - Chapter 45

 Reluctant to deliver unfortunate news to such a person, Count Schwenn had knocked on the young duke’s door instead. Since the young duke who was said to have fallen ill after the Duchess’s death was now out playing with Jade looking perfectly fine, at least this one seemed to be in his right mind. 

 Izer responded in an emotionless tone.

“There’s no need to inform Father. I’ll go look for her myself.” 

 “Huh? But Your Grace, if Miss Berienne really went into the forest, it’s dangerous. There’s a risk of wolves. If you wait a moment, I’ll have the servants ready……” 

 “It’s fine, Count.” 

 The words cut like a knife. Count Schwenn could only blink as he watched the young duke pick up his hunting rifle. 

 While changing into his boots, Izer declared:

“I just need one horse. If I’m not back by morning, then send people out.” 

 ***

 His first thought was bewilderment. 

 She was a woman who had been hesitant to go out, afraid of people’s gazes. Since that nature of hers wouldn’t change just because she came to a resort, he had readily agreed when Count Schwenn asked if it would be alright to give her freedom of movement. His spiteful thought that without Doctor Owen around, what could she possibly do on her own had played a part too. 

 But that woman had defied all expectations by not only going out alone but fleeing into the forest. With the sole determination to escape from people, not even knowing what beasts might be in that forest. 

 Next came acceptance. 

 Celian was originally lively and loved socializing. Her villa had been full of clueless young men who came to see the beautiful young lady and peers who admired her sensibilities. She was someone who had conversed freely even with soldiers who came to meet Marquis Berienne. 

 Moreover, Celian loved trees. So both her outing and escape to the forest made perfect sense. 

 The third feeling that struck him was anger. 

 Someone had maliciously attacked her. They had provoked people’s wicked curiosity and given direction to neutral gazes. Naturally, in a negative way. 

 He was angry at the perpetrator who had used such contemptible tactics. Angry at that woman who had fallen for the scheme. Angry at himself who had told her they should go to the estate together. 

 Finally, he prayed to God. 

 Please keep her at your place. 

 ***

 The uninhabited forest was quiet. 

 Every time she heard animal sounds in the distance, Celian trembled. This place was indeed where hunters often came to catch beasts. 

 Awoo— A wolf howled in the distance. 

 She tried to think positive thoughts. As she recalled, the chapel was at the edge of the forest. Since it was midsummer, she didn’t worry about freezing to death, and the weather was quite clear. A few mosquitoes were no real problem. 

 Celian sat on the bench closest to where the priest gives mass. Curled up there, she recalled the old religious painting she had seen in Humingham. The infinitely benevolent gaze that had looked down at her from the high ceiling, and even the curses she had hurled at it. 

 As if possessed, her feet moved toward the platform. Just as she turned to face imaginary believers from the position where mass is conducted— 

 A low vibration shook her lungs. 

 Grrrr. 

 “……” 

 The saying that your body goes limp and you collapse when strength leaves you was no metaphor. 

 The dumbfounded gaze of the woman who had plopped down on the platform met the beast’s eyes. The wolf’s gray eyes rolled wildly. Its fierce teeth created a heavy vibration. 

 Grrrr. 

 They say you lose your sense of reality right before death. The thought floating in her mind now was of God who must be looking down at this scene. 

 The cross behind her, the sacrifice on the platform, the beast ready to splatter her blood. She wondered what the absolute being looking down at this dramatic scene worthy of scripture would think. 

 Had He prepared to judge the soul that had cursed and hurled abuse at Him? 

 Death awaited her. 

‘Death is not the solution. Remember that.’

 Izer, you were wrong. Death is my solution. This is rather fortunate. That wolf will dispose of me, since I don’t have the right to take my own life. 

‘You can only die when I allow it.’

 That was wrong too. You were wrong about everything. I don’t need your permission for my death. That wolf has decided to kill me. You won’t even be able to find me. The blood splattered on the altar will be my last trace. 

 Grrrrrr. 

 The wolf lowered its stance. It was preparing for the final leap. Soon it would spring up like a coil and tear at her throat, and everything would end. 

 Celian closed her eyes. She prayed it would hurt as little as possible. If God was watching, He could at least take her peacefully, right? 

 Several seconds passed. As time flowed, her fear amplified. 

 How much longer? Why was this wolf taking so long? Even though it was fully prepared to tear into her at any moment, was the wolf also enjoying this situation of her trembling in fear? 

 Suddenly she felt resentment. She was a general’s daughter after all. It wounded her pride to be disrespected by a mere beast in her dying moments. 

 Celian’s eyes flew open and her eyebrows twitched. Was it her imagination, or had the wolf moved slightly further away? 

 At that moment, a thunderous sound split the air. 

 Soon blood flowed from the wolf’s side. Awoo— The beast howled and thrashed, its red liquid thoroughly soaking the dirt floor. 

 Bang. Another gunshot followed.

Silence fell where the painful howls had ceased. The gray wolf that had tried to tear into her lay bleeding with bulging eyes like a sacrifice. While the spasms in its protruding snout subsided, Celian sat motionless, staring only at the wolf. 

 “……” 

 Her hand that had been gripping her knee touched the floor. Her back, which she had been holding straight with effort, leaned forward. Her disheveled silver hair spilled forward, blocking her vision, but Celian, whose sight was already blurred with tears, didn’t notice. 

 She lived. She survived from the brink of death. She escaped the fate of being offered at the altar and could breathe a little longer. Her time, which until five minutes ago she thought would stop, began flowing again. 

 The question of ‘how’ didn’t follow. The familiar sound of footsteps behind her, and the slightly rough breathing, were answer enough. 

 The footsteps drew closer.

“Celian.” 

 Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes. But her stubborn gaze fixed straight ahead seemed unwilling to turn around as the other wished. 

 Just hearing his voice made her heart tremble. If she faced that face, she felt she could no longer maintain her composure. 

 So she couldn’t turn around now. The fact that she had waited for him, that she had hoped he might save her. If she revealed to the man who had run here with a rifle, breathing as heavily as her, her sincere wish to live— she felt she would crumble beyond control. 

 But he commanded firmly.

“Celian Berienne, look at me.” 

 The world moved slowly. Her gaze shifted from the beast’s corpse, past the forest buried in darkness and the long benches, to the man in the black cloak. 

 He stood right in front of the cross. Moonlight poured over his tense face. His hair, disheveled by the wind, swayed. Under hair darker than night, his red eyes were fixed on her. 

 Izer crouched before her. The tears pooled in her sky-blue eyes admirably clung on without falling. 

 The man spoke.

“The Celian Berienne I know doesn’t crumble just because she got played.” 

 Are you hurt, are you okay, why are you here—he showed none of such curiosity. 

 Though she appeared fine on the outside, her heart must be torn, and as for why she came here—well, perhaps he could make the sophistic argument that those who want to run away tend to flee to God’s presence? 

 Actually, it probably wasn’t such a holy reason. The only place she would know in this forest was this chapel where the wedding took place. People tend to be drawn to anything even slightly familiar, and with the lamps lit too, it was easy to guess why she was led here. 

 So such obvious questions and answers were meaningless for this woman. 

 Meeting his knowing gaze, Celian answered. Her words were too dry for someone whose eyes looked ready to cry at any moment.

“Because the person you know is dead.” 

 There was no word of thanks to her savior, but Izer didn’t mind. Her safety was answer enough. So he continued the calm conversation with the now very natural premise that ‘Celian was safe.’ 

 “She’s not dead. As you and I know.” 

 “……” 

 “You are Berienne. No matter how much you deny it, that fact won’t change.” 

 A given name begins from the heart and rules the entire body. Izer spoke to the soul pulsing within the living flesh. 

 “Live like a Berienne. Stand tall and proud. If you don’t like something, curse at it or hit it. That suits you better.” 

 Though he was clearly speaking to her, the echoing words seemed to be directed at himself. Izer tried not to be consumed by the strange feeling as he met her eyes. 

 “……” 

 Stars filled her tear-filled eyes. As if enchanted, Izer pressed his lips to her forehead. 

 From afar it would look like a ridiculous comedy, but to those involved it was a tragedy. One had fallen externally, one internally, and only then did their heights match. 

 The gazes that couldn’t align when they stood in high places finally met now that they had fallen to the depths. 

 ……or so Izer Chesterfield thought. 

 ***