Chapter 32

Bloodshot eyes glared at the indifferent man. A faint sigh finally settled over the dining table. The cloth that had been used to stop the bleeding no longer turned red. From start to finish, his indifferent voice echoed through the room.

“I’m sick of it too. Your paranoia.”

Leaving those words behind, Ian left the table.

Soon after, Melissa collapsed to the floor as if her legs had given out. The maids hurriedly rushed to support her. Phyllis, who tried to approach, was stopped by Cornell, who shook her head firmly.

“Go to your room. Get your wound treated first.”

There was an odd strength in her soft voice. Phyllis stared blankly at her retreating figure.

“But Mother—”

“I know better than you. About Aunt’s condition, and about treating your wound.”

“…”

“Get treated first. I’ll go check on her, so don’t worry.”

With such firm words, there was nothing left for Phyllis to say. He reluctantly moved his feet.

When he reached his room and sat blankly on the bed, a knock came at the door.

“Young Lord, I’ve come to treat your wound.”

Several servants entered, carrying bandages and ointments.

The treatment didn’t take long. Left alone again, Phyllis slowly lay down on the bed. The sound of sobbing that filled his head wouldn’t disappear, tormenting him. It was the pitiful weeping of a woman, unbearably sorrowful.

When had it started? When had his mother become so broken?

‘If it weren’t for what you did four years ago… I wouldn’t have ended up like this.’

That was probably the answer. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, everyone knew.

Phyllis squeezed his eyes shut. The darker his vision became, the louder the ringing in his ears grew.

‘She must be crying again. She always does.’

His mother was a weak woman. Unable to endure his father’s coldness, she gradually fell apart.

Since he was a child, Phyllis had thought of her as pitiful. In his eyes, his mother was always alone and seemed lonely. So, he stayed by her side. When she cried, he comforted her however he could, and when she poured out her emotions, he accepted them.

‘Phyllis, my son. You won’t abandon me, will you?’

‘Get out. I can’t stand the sight of you. Go to your father!’

At some point, Melissa began pouring her emotions onto Phyllis. And that choice ended up breaking them both.

For quite a long time, Phyllis had not cried in front of anyone. That began with his mother. Or perhaps, it wasn’t even his mother.

The tension in his tightly shut eyelids eased. Despite himself, sleep began to creep in.

‘You, how could you do this to me?!’

The piercing screams and shouts clouded his mind. For a brief moment, Phyllis had a terrible nightmare. When he opened his eyes again, it was still night. The smell of antiseptic lingered faintly.

Before he could fully regain his senses, hurried footsteps approached his room.

“Young Lord! Madam is—!”

The moment the door opened, an urgent voice struck the walls. What Phyllis faced was yet another cruel nightmare.

***

Karina, who had come down to the front hall, draped a thick coat over her shoulders. As she coughed lightly, Becky fussed over her and wrapped a scarf around her neck, her eyes filled with worry.

“Take care, and don’t take off the scarf under any circumstances.”

Nodding, Karina left the mansion and climbed into the carriage, immediately pulling off the scarf. Perhaps it was because of her fever, but she felt a little warm. Pressing her flushed cheeks with the back of her hand, she realized they were burning.

She was on her way to the doctor because her cough had worsened over the past few days. Since the Duke’s household physician was away, she had to see a doctor in person.

“We’ve arrived, Lady Karina. Please step out and head inside.”

“Yes, I’ll go now.”

It didn’t take long to reach the hospital. Karina entered the building with the coachman, who also served as her attendant.

“Please fill out the register and wait in line.”

The hospital was busier than she had expected. Following the nurse’s instructions, Karina filled out the register and sat down to wait. Just as the warmth from her breath started to make the scarf feel stifling, a nurse approached her.

“Are you Lady Karina?”

“Ah, yes.”

Since this was the central hospital where the household physician worked, there were people who recognized her. When her turn came, Karina headed to the consultation room on the second floor. The examination was thorough but quick. As expected, the diagnosis was a mild cold.

“I should’ve just gone to the nearest pharmacy.”

Feeling embarrassed, Karina wrapped her scarf tightly again and headed back down the stairs.

But just before descending to the lower floor, she heard a strange sound. It came from the staircase leading to the upper floor. It sounded like someone shivering from the cold, or perhaps breathing heavily.

For some reason, she couldn’t ignore it. Karina cautiously climbed the stairs. And there, on one side of the upper staircase, she found someone crouched down.

“…Phyllis?”

The name slipped out on its own, echoing faintly between the floors. The person sitting on the stairs slowly lifted his head. Beneath his red-rimmed eyes, his tear-streaked cheeks came into view. Phyllis was crying.

Before she knew it, Karina had walked up to him.

“What are you doing here?”

Up close, his face looked even worse. His eyes were swollen and raw from crying. Phyllis, who had been staring blankly at her, finally spoke. His empty eyes quickly filled with emotion.

“Mother… collapsed….”

“…”

“She took too many pills at once. So….”

Before the tears pooling in his eyes could fall, they streamed down his cheeks. Karina could only watch in silence. Phyllis, who looked as fragile as if he might break at any moment, was right in front of her.

***

Phyllis buried his face in his knees and thought. It was a few years ago.

A woman had visited the Earl’s residence. It was spring, and the air was filled with the scent of flowers. Her belly, round as if she were about to give birth, was unmistakable.

Phyllis, who had been in the library at the time, heard screams and went downstairs.

‘What are you doing? Hurry and bring the Young Master inside!’

Despite the maids’ urgent shouts, Phyllis saw her.

A strange woman stood outside the mansion. In her hand, she held his father’s fountain pen, which gleamed in the spring sunlight.

‘You, how could you do this to me!’

His mother, her face twisted with anger, screamed those words and collapsed to the ground with a desperate sob.

After that day, the atmosphere in the mansion became even more suffocating. His mother refused to eat and wouldn’t see anyone.

About two weeks later, she finally visited his father’s study. Naturally, Phyllis didn’t know what was said inside. But after that, his mother grew even more gaunt.

‘You don’t need to pay attention to what your mother says. I don’t even remember it happening.’

His father’s response was as indifferent as ever. Whether it was true or not was impossible to tell.

In any case, he was a cold man. He had handed a few coins to the woman who claimed to be carrying his child and sent her away. He drove nails into his family’s hearts with his claim that he didn’t even remember her.

But the real problem was what happened after that.

‘Mother. It’s me, Phyllis. I brought dinner to your room.’

‘I baked these cookies myself. Please try them.’

Phyllis gave everything he had, even more than he already had.

Perhaps his sincerity got through, as his mother gradually regained her strength. At least once a day, she smiled at him.

But it wasn’t long before Phyllis realized the truth.

‘Mother…?’

One night, he entered her room and saw her belongings scattered everywhere—clothes and bags in disarray. That’s when he understood: sincerity didn’t reach anyone.

A few days later, she returned to the Earl’s residence and clung to Phyllis, crying more sorrowfully than ever before. He still couldn’t forget the sound of her sobs. It was a memory that would never leave him.

People passed by the space beside the stairs. Alone amidst the tranquility, Phyllis struggled silently. Even with his limited view, he saw that no one was nearby. The person who had been there just moments ago was gone.

‘Was it a hallucination?’

The thought struck him as absurd. Even though their eyes had met, he wasn’t sure if Karina had really been there.

His body felt drained of strength. As he unintentionally lowered his head, he noticed a coat lying beside him. It was a fairly thick coat. Its calm, dark purple color reminded him of someone.

“Kari….”

His voice, hoarse from crying, barely escaped. Without saying anything more, Phyllis reached out. He picked up the coat, held it to his chest, and buried his face in it. The coat carried no scent. Somehow, that made him feel more at ease. It felt like she was calmly staying by his side.

‘You’re my most precious friend, Phyllis.’

The words Karina had once said came to mind. It must have been when they were quite young. When they were just getting to know each other, growing familiar, and becoming precious to one another.

Looking back now, that moment seemed so brief it was as if it hadn’t happened at all. Because in all of Phyllis’s time, Karina had always been that kind of presence. He missed her. Regardless of everything that had happened, he simply missed Karina.

Footsteps echoed from below the stairs. Phyllis turned his head toward the sound.

“Young Lord Phyllis, are you alright?”

One of the hospital staff approached him and draped a blanket over his shoulders.

Just as he was about to ask, another staff member reassured him.

“The Countess is stable now. She’s just been moved from the intensive care unit to a general ward.”

The result he had waited for all night had finally come. Phyllis let his shoulders slump.

“But how long have you been sitting here? You should go to the ward now.”

“Wait. Karina, where’s Karina?”

Phyllis, who staggered to his feet, asked belatedly. A faint hope seeped into his cracked voice.

“If you mean Lady Karina, she returned to the Duke’s residence a little while ago.”

The answer shattered that hope. Phyllis stared blankly at the coat in his hands. The thick fabric slipped down. It was the trace of someone warm, someone who had been holding him close.