They passed through the vast garden, which was almost overwhelming in its size. After a while, another estate came into view: the main residence of House Berend, where her mother lived.

Everyone who saw her bowed silently and without question.

No matter when she came, the place was always heavy with silence.

Although it had been months since her last visit, Reina knew the route perfectly.

Standing in front of the familiar door, she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“Mother.”

There was no reply from inside.

Not that she’d expected one.

Ever since that day, her mother hadn’t properly responded to anyone.

“I’m coming in.”

She opened the door and stepped inside.

A figure was stretched out on the sofa. Reina slowly took a seat opposite her.

Despite the sound of the cane she now walked with — so different from before — her mother didn’t stir or even glance her way.

“Have you been well?”

Reina asked the familiar, everyday question, even though she knew there would be no answer.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been talking to herself when her mother finally turned her head at the sound of her voice.

Reina quietly studied the hollowed cheeks of the woman in front of her: Yeria.

Once the Countess of Helfried; now the Countess of Berend.

Despite her pale complexion and fragile appearance, she was undeniably beautiful — so much so that her gauntness evoked pity.

‘No, now she’s a marchioness.’

With Kaelid’s father, Eldan Berend, set to receive the marquisate, Yeria would become the Marchioness of Berend in name only.

Not that it would make the slightest difference to her mother.

“You look even thinner than before.”

If she traced the source of all her misery, she would find it lay with her mother and father.

There was a time when she blamed them for the life she had been forced into — a life shaped by choices that were never hers to make.

But even that resentment eventually faded.

Ultimately, Yeria and her late father had simply become embroiled in Eldan Berend’s madness, just as she had.

She remembered a time when her mother had been radiant.

It was hard to picture now, but there had been a time when Yeria had smiled brightly.

Though her vitality had long since faded, her beauty remained striking.

How dazzling must she have been back then, when her eyes still held light?

They said that Eldan had fallen in love with her at first sight.

If Yeria had accepted his proposal, if she had embraced that path from the beginning, would anyone have ended up so broken?

But she hadn’t.

She had rejected Eldan Berend, the Count at the time.

Reina never discovered what it was about him that she couldn’t accept.

Perhaps she had seen his true nature even then.

After Yeria turned him down, Eldan married someone who was deemed more suitable.

Yet Yeria’s stunning, radiant image remained in his heart even after that.

Whether she knew it or not, the Countess gave birth to a son.

That son was Kaelid.

‘If only it had all ended there.’

Reina thought, a bitter smile touching her lips. Shortly after the birth of their child, they received news that Yeria had also got married.

Her husband was Ardes Helfried, a man from a modest household who belonged to a lower-ranking count.

The father Reina remembered had always been gentle.

Perhaps it was that gentleness that had captured the heart of such a beautiful woman.

For a few years, there were no signs of trouble.

A child was born into House Helfried, and Yeria seemed to fade from Eldan’s memory.

But that calm was merely the silence before the storm.

Her father had always kept himself far away from the world of politics, content with his family’s modest status and the quiet dignity that went with it. Even during the struggle for the throne, he kept a low profile and remained uninvolved.

Yet somehow he was branded a traitor — not for supporting the current emperor, but for backing a rival prince.

It was House Berend that crushed House Helfried.

Disguised as the emperor’s agents, they beheaded Reina’s father and dragged Yeria and Reina away in chains, branding them criminals.

Everything crumbled overnight.

Rather than being imprisoned in the imperial capital, the two women were confined to a spacious room at House Berend.

Although their surroundings were far more comfortable, the uncertainty of what would happen to them made each day a torment of fear and unease.

“Mother was still all right back then.”

Perhaps because she had a young daughter to care for, Yeria remained alert and composed, even when she was afraid.

However, when night fell and Eldan arrived, Reina had to leave her mother’s arms and spend the night alone in a small room.

At the time, she didn’t understand what that meant.

As time went by, she came face to face with Eldan’s son, Kaelid.

From the beginning, he despised her.

And how could he not?

She was the daughter of the woman who had caused his mother so much pain.

How could the Countess not have been devastated, watching her husband slip away night after night — not just to another woman, but to the woman he had desired before they married, the woman he had murdered to be with?

Reina couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

That hatred was passed on to Kaelid.

Still just a boy at the time, he directed all of it towards Reina.

‘If only it had ended there.’

‘The real problem was that he felt anything at all.’

To hate someone means to carry them in your heart.

From the moment they first met, Kaelid had harboured the same feelings for her as his father had for his mother.

And so, Kaelid’s torment began.

Reina told her mother, but Yeria could do nothing. She was a powerless prisoner too.

Reina soon realised that there was no one she could turn to, and that nothing would change. So she gave up. With that, Kaelid only grew bolder.

Yeria rubbed her forehead with a weary sigh. Everything that had happened was inevitable, but even so, there was no denying that her entanglement with Kaelid had worsened the Countess’s condition.

First her husband, then her son — when the countess realised that both men were hopelessly in love with her and her daughter, she began to lose her sanity. She tried to drive them away and even attempted to kill them, but failed every time.

Even worse, she had to watch Eldan and Kaelid protect the very women she hated.

So a fragile peace lingered on. For Reina and Yeria, House Berend was like a prison, but for the Countess, it was a living hell, endured alongside the woman who had taken everything from her.

Time passed — Reina no longer knew how much.

Then, one day, the Countess came to see Yeria. Reina remembered that moment with perfect clarity. The Countess’s face looked as though death had already claimed her.

It would have been easier if she had erupted in rage, shouting her fury and pain. Instead, however, she spoke in a calm, almost detached voice; cold, brutal words slipped out beneath the elegant mask she had always worn.

Obscene curses, shocking in their vulgarity when delivered in such a serene tone, spilled from her lips. She called Yeria shameless and smiled.

Then, in an act of pure spite, she drew a razor-sharp knife from her hiding place and plunged it into her own throat.

She would never forget the moment the crimson spray erupted into the air. The mother and daughter stood frozen to the spot, too shocked to scream. All they could do was cling to each other.

Moments later, Eldan arrived, having been summoned on hearing that the Countess had gone to Yeria again. He let out a sound resembling a sigh of relief. To Reina, he seemed monstrous. How could any man remain so composed while his wife was dying at his feet?

The funeral was small and subdued. Even Kaelid, who should have been affected the most by his mother’s absence, did not shed a single tear.

Instead, it was Yeria who wept — perhaps because she already knew what awaited her. Reina said nothing; she merely held her mother’s trembling hands while silent tears streamed down Yeria’s cheeks. She was afraid to ask why.

With the countess gone, no one remained to oppose Eldan. He installed Yeria as the new Countess of Berend. Reina could hardly fathom what her mother must have felt, being made the wife of the man who had murdered her beloved husband and being forced to share his bed night after night.

Had Yeria ever imagined that she would one day bear the murderer’s name and be known as Eldan’s lady?

The curse of the late Countess was slowly gnawing away at Yeria’s sanity. She had once fought desperately to protect her daughter, but when she realised that Reina had also fallen into the grasp of Kaelid, she lost her will to fight. She shut herself away and retreated into silence. Years slipped by in this state.

Meanwhile, Reina grew to look more and more like her mother, but nothing truly changed.

“Mother, I injured my leg.”

Reina said evenly, gently kneading the limb as she spoke. The image of little Zephion carefully massaging her leg flickered through her mind.

“They say I’ll never walk properly again without a cane.”

It was a heavy truth, but Yeria’s vacant eyes remained unmoved, showing not even a flicker of response.