A silent scream erupted.

The Countess’s hands visibly weakened, her grip loosening. The cloth she had been holding slipped away, billowing through the air in a white blur.

Through the fabric, a flash of golden light briefly glinted.

Then it fell.

The small face, pale like a white bun and too shocked to continue crying, grew distant.

The man who resembled Saul, presumably the brothers’ father, stretched out his hands to catch the falling infant David.

Catherine watched him rushing up the stairs, but the distance between him and the falling child seemed too great.

The child’s descent appeared to move in slow motion. Catherine couldn’t even blink. Thus, she witnessed it, a small hand emerging from behind white skirts.

“No!”

In that instant, a scream rose from an unknown source. Again and again. A figure brushed past Catherine’s reflexively outstretched hand.

Nothing could be grasped. She glimpsed toes lifting into the air. Catherine squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear witnessing what would happen next.

The moment she closed her eyes, time, which had seemed to slow to a standstill, resumed its normal pace. The inevitable moment arrived, both too quickly and with stark clarity.

Thud.

A sound powerful enough to shake the landing where Catherine stood reverberated through the space. Then came more sounds: someone’s scream, the noise of someone collapsing weakly, and belatedly, a child’s cry.

Amid this chaos, Catherine opened her eyes with a gasp upon hearing a low groan of someone swallowing pain. That wasn’t the sound of a child. Proving her right, a piercing cry rose again. 

The infant’s voice carried strength in its wailing. Catherine instinctively understood: Saul wasn’t hurt, and David was safe too.

Unfortunately, while the young brothers were unharmed, not everyone in the Cavendish family had escaped injury.

“Father!”

Young Saul’s voice rose urgently. Catherine’s gaze fell to the bottom of the stairs. There lay a man, sprawled like carelessly discarded clothing.

The brothers’ father, who looked exactly like Saul, was groaning at the foot of the stairs.

“My lord!”

The strange silence finally broke with sharp cries from downstairs, followed by the sound of people rushing in. Like rats discovering food, servants in uniforms that seemed both familiar and strange surrounded the Count amid the reddish glow of approaching lights.

Through the commotion, Catherine caught glimpses of the Count opening his pain-contorted eyes. 

Through the black silhouettes swaying like thin branches, the Count’s gaze turned toward his wife, who sat crumpled on the landing.

Among all those people, only the Count looked at his wife.

“Ah… ah…”

From the top of the stairs came sounds that might have been crying or something else entirely. 

The Countess was trembling. Unable to hide her confusion, she covered her face with both hands, her shoulders shaking with shock and despair.

“I, I…”

Her voice, muttering like someone who had lost her mind, reached Catherine. Her hands, clutching her face as though she might claw at her cheeks, visibly trembled.

“I didn’t want this…”

Her dazed murmuring faded before she could finish. Then, in the sudden strange silence that followed, she raised her head as though suddenly realizing something.

“This is all… because of you.”

In that moment, her tangled hair shook and those blue eyes turned toward Catherine. They were eyes filled with tears and cold hatred.

Startled, Catherine instinctively stepped back several paces before remembering that the Countess couldn’t see her, which made her stop. 

Yet, contradicting this assumption, those blue eyes were fixed directly on Catherine.

“Yes… if only you hadn’t existed…!”

Catherine froze as chills ran up her feet. That moment seemed to ignite something. The Countess’s gaze gleamed ferociously, like a predator spotting frightened prey. There was no time to turn away.

Instinctively, Catherine stepped backward, but her stiffened legs wouldn’t move properly. Her heels felt deeply embedded in the thick carpet.

In that moment when the surprised Catherine lost her balance and stumbled—

With a sudden shriek, the Countess lunged at her.

There was no time to avoid the charging figure. Catherine lost her balance and collapsed where she stood. Her eyes squeezed shut. With her body falling before she could prepare, her heart plummeted with a thud.

The white shadow drew closer. It covered her vision in an instant, becoming darkness. An unstoppable form pressed against her.

Catherine reflexively raised her arms to shield her face. Breathing became difficult, as though fierce air was rushing in.

She bit the inside of her lip hard and held her breath. Like being thrown into a raging storm, violent air swept over her entire body while a voice rising like an animal’s cry sharply tore at her ears.

…ri!

It sounded like someone calling something. But she couldn’t make it out clearly. The voice, choked with rage, was rough and seemed about to tear. The sound reverberated, like fierce pounding on a window.

It hummed, vibrating through her entire body. Then suddenly, with a sound like something striking the floor, cutting through the sharp resentment, everything grew quiet.

“Eli.”

Then a muffled voice, sounding like it came from beyond a watery surface, overlapped. Catherine opened her eyes with a gasp. She saw nothing. Once again, pitch darkness greeted her.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

Catherine’s shoulders trembled. For a moment, she thought she saw white fabric moving. Though she expected to see nothing, a strand of scattered hair appeared before her eyes.

She saw the faint light flowing along it, swaying with breath that seemed about to crumble.

Light, and then shadow, appeared. Catherine blinked. The Countess was nowhere to be seen. No human presence could be detected.

Catherine slowly exhaled a long breath as she lowered the hand that had been pressing down on her rapidly beating heart, letting it fall onto the gentle light that quietly soaked the pitch-black skirt.

After some time passed, she raised her head upon noticing a shadow flickering over the light that had settled on the back of her hand.

A long, stretched shadow had fallen. Following the shadow, her gaze traveled upward. She saw light. It was streaming through a narrow door crack.

Following that stretched path with her gaze, Catherine discovered two small feet neatly placed where the light didn’t reach. She blinked. Behind where she sat, slightly off to one side, stood a small child.

The figure leaning against the wall looked familiar.

“Explain, Eli.”

And that voice, strange yet familiar to her ears. Catherine turned her head toward the narrow door crack where the sound came from.

“Eli…”

Catherine repeated the name. She rubbed her ears as though covering them. The beast-like screaming that had risen so sharply seemed to tear away from her ears.

“Eli.”

Catherine silently moved her lips to call the name again. It was an unfamiliar name.

“I think it would be better to observe her condition a while longer.”

A voice Catherine didn’t recognize continued, presumably belonging to the owner of that name. 

“That’s fine.”

However, the Count cut off those carefully hesitant words.

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

A sound leaked through his teeth, as though suppressing something.

“Why on earth would Catherine…”

His voice pooled low before overflowing, streaming through the narrow door crack, past the child’s feet, and reaching Catherine. That incomplete sound, the man’s emotional state as he endured something, touched Catherine before receding.

Filling that receding space, Catherine unconsciously exhaled a long, faint breath.

“Whatever the beginning was like, she is my person.”

“She’s my wife, the mother of my children. I can’t just stand by and watch…”

His lamenting voice continued.

What is this about?

Just as she wondered, her question was soon erased.

“Catherine…”

At that identical calling of her name, Catherine’s tightly closed lips tensed. With just that one call, she understood what he meant.

After a pause, like holding his breath, the voice that had been cut off added:

“Is that prophecy truly correct?”

“Does it really refer to Catherine…?”

Even though she understood what he was referring to, it was difficult to fully comprehend the content. Catherine blinked, as though trying to break down and understand those sentences reaching her ears.

What is he talking about now? Her bewildered gaze slid toward the person beyond the door.

“Then why would Catherine…”

The Count’s whispering voice sounded like something unsaid was choking and strangling his throat. With a voice identical to Saul’s, yet not at all dry.

The Count spoke with a voice feigning calmness, deliberately suppressing his emotions.

“Don’t just stand there, explain. Say something, anything…!”

Yet the turbulent emotion swirling like a storm wasn’t hidden at all. At that tone, Catherine’s eyes tensed. Even in those few words, the clearly surging emotion struck Catherine violently like heavy raindrops.

What on earth is this about?

Catherine’s shoulders, stiff as though staring at something beyond her field of vision, remained motionless.