Chapter 4 (Part 1)

Morning came once again.  

She couldn’t endure it any longer. In the end, she decided not to wait quietly this time and resolved to leave the house to search for him.  

Whether Levin got angry or disappointed in her for stepping beyond the fence didn’t matter anymore. He had left her alone without any word for two entire days. And he had bound her with nothing but the words, “Trust me.”  

But what else was there for her to trust and wait for? When she thought about it, reality always had a way of erasing even the light of the past without a second thought. Just as it could bury even the most radiant happiness as if it held no value.  

Fate was sometimes fierce and cruel, stealing away what was precious right before one’s eyes, leaving people to drown in despair while mocking them. Just as she had once lost a child. Though she had no memory of it, that despair was not something she could ever treat as meaningless.  

She didn’t want to go through such a thing again. And Levin was precisely that kind of existence to her. He was her sole reason for living, her hope.  

Suppressing the urge to burst into tears, she forced herself to prepare to leave.  

Two days. It had been two whole days. Something must have happened to him.  

To prepare for the possibility of another downpour, she chose lightweight clothes instead of the layered skirts that would become heavy when wet. For shoes, she picked ones with high collars that wouldn’t slip off and would keep out debris. Over everything, she wrapped herself tightly in a cloak. At least this time, her steps would be lighter than before.  

It was just as she picked up the bag she had packed early yesterday morning.  

“…Huh?”  

She noticed a pouch she hadn’t seen before beneath the bag.  

She shouldn’t have picked it up. But once again, without much thought, she reached out and grabbed it. It was a foolish thing to do.  

The pouch, which she had expected to be heavy, was surprisingly light. Thinking it must contain money Levin had left behind, she opened it without hesitation. After all, she had heard the rustling sound of paper inside.  

But instead of money, there was something else. It looked like a note.  

What is this? 

She wondered as she unfolded it. The moment she read it, she screamed and threw it away.  

There it was again—her handwriting, with its distinctive curled ends.  

「…Labor has started.  

The midwife said that since this is my first child, it might take a while. She also mentioned it could take as long as three full days.  

Levin left me today, even on such an important day, drunk as always. He even mocked me as I groaned in pain from the labor that began last night. Then, with his drunken, glazed eyes, he pressed down on my stomach. And he sneered, ‘How does it feel to give birth to the spawn of a damned demon?’」  

Why am I seeing this again? Where are these things coming from?  

Her heart pounded so hard from the shock that it hurt.  

“No, Levin isn’t like that. That’s all madness. That’s… that’s… all nonsense.”  

She stepped back, retreating from the scattered piece of paper. She wanted to escape from it. But perhaps because of the gaze that seemed to be piercing her, the words on the page only became clearer in her sight.  

「I sincerely pray for the existence of the God of Death.  

I sincerely pray for the Grim Reaper to come to me. I don’t mind what price is taken in return. Usually, people offer their most precious thing as payment and sacrifice themselves. But I am not precious to myself. So I don’t even know what to offer to be taken.  

However, if anything at all is permitted—if the Grim Reaper answers my plea—then without even a shred of hesitation, I will pray for Levin’s death. I will plead for him to be thrown into the filth of hell.  

And I will wish for his cursed red hair to be ripped out, for his ugly buck teeth that show whenever he laughs to be pulled out raw, for the bridge of his hooked nose to be broken. No, it doesn’t matter what it is, as long as he can be erased in complete agony…」  

As she read through the fragments of hatred that felt suffocating, her mind seemed to freeze for a moment.  

Step on my stomach? Red hair? Buck teeth? A hooked nose? Was that supposed to describe Levin?  

None of those traits matched the “husband” she know.

Her Levin would never press down on her stomach with his foot. He had beautiful golden hair and features that looked like they were sculpted. His white teeth, visible whenever he smiled, were perfectly aligned and flawless.  

“Then… then, who is the ‘Levin’ now… supposed to be?”  

Nothing made sense.  

Murmuring “No…,” she ran toward the door. She flung it open and dashed down the stairs leading to the garden. But she missed a step on the stairs and tumbled sideways, rolling down uncontrollably.  

Before everything went dark, she felt her head slam into something hard. And then, she lost consciousness.  

***  

When she woke up again, her body was lying on a bed.  

The heavy, uncomfortable cloak and the shoes that had constricted her legs were gone. Everything felt light and comfortable, as if she had simply woken up from a nap.  

Her gaze flickered toward the window. The area near it was clean, and there was no sign of the paper she had thrown before running off.  

Ah, of course. It was all a dream.  

She laughed weakly, letting out a breath of relief. But just then, she heard hurried footsteps pounding toward her.  

“Cordelia?”  

Turning her head with some effort, she saw Levin’s face.  

But his expression was one of disbelief, as if he had seen something unimaginable. When she called out to him, “Darling…?” and reached out her arm, he rushed over, dropping to his knees beside the bed. Grasping her hand with both of his, he pressed his cheek against it repeatedly.  

“Are you crying…?”  

Her palm felt damp. Looking at him with concern, she cautiously asked the question, urging him to show her his face. But Levin remained silent for a long time, his head bowed as he suppressed his sobs, tears streaming down his face.  

Eventually, she couldn’t hold herself back and tried to sit up, grunting with effort. But as she did, a sharp, suffocating headache suddenly struck her. She gasped, her body collapsing forward. Levin, startled, immediately raised his head and caught her in his arms.  

“Now I can finally see your face properly… Why are you crying?”  

She asked again, her voice soft and hesitant, while slowly blinking her eyes. 

Was it because I hadn’t fully woken up yet? 

Her head felt foggy.  

Levin looked down at her with tender eyes. His still-wet gaze seemed like it might spill tears onto her face at any moment. She raised her hand and wiped his tears away.  

“You… were hurt.”  

Hurt?  

Blinking in confusion, as if asking what he meant, she waited for him to explain further.  

When he returned home, he said, he found her collapsed at the bottom of the garden stairs, bleeding. It seemed she had been lying there for quite some time.  

“Ah…”  

For a moment, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of her lungs.  

No, that couldn’t be. Did that mean it wasn’t a dream? The letter I saw? The contents of it? Then… who is this man?  

Seeing her despair, Levin appeared to think she was recalling the situation. He reassured her that everything was fine now and explained how much care he had poured into tending to her since then. He said he had never stopped believing she would wake up.  

But he was lying. If he had truly believed that, why had he been so shocked and burst into tears the moment she woke up?  

When she asked how much time had passed, Levin explained that she had been unconscious for nearly ten days.  

Perhaps that was why his face, now that she looked at it again, was a complete mess. His eyes were dark and sunken, his face and lips were dry as if he hadn’t eaten anything, and his usually well-groomed jawline was rough with stubble.  

It was clear that he had neglected himself entirely while taking care of her. Seeing him like that made her heart ache.  

And because of that, she couldn’t bring herself to voice the questions that were consuming her mind.  

The enormous, terrifying question: ‘Who are you?’ 

Of course, it was entirely possible that everything was just her imagination. Or perhaps it was the nonsense of a mind gone mad. 

But what if it wasn’t? What if it was all true?  

Then what would happen to me and him from now on?  

If this man wasn’t the “real” Levin… if he wasn’t truly my husband… then why was he here, pretending to be my husband by my side?