The Woman Who Sees His Secret

This is my favorite Chapter in all of the story. I hope you guys enjoy it too.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the late dawn, Olivia, carried back to her room on Ricardo's back, found it hard to fall asleep.

No matter how she propped up her pillow.

No matter how she turned toward the window.

No matter how she buried her forehead in the pillow and lay face down.

Sleep eluded her, and her eyes remained wide and staring blankly.

Propped up on her pillow, Olivia mumbled lazily.

"I'm tired… but I can't sleep."

The scars she had seen in Ricardo's room kept haunting her mind. The grotesquely twisted skin and his blackened arm. They were not scenes one could easily forget.

'It was really disgusting.'

Repeated images of Ricardo's faint smile disturbed her peace of mind.

Sleep, after all, must come in a state of body and mind serenity in order to be restful.

If she remained in this gloomy mood, there would be no sleep, and by the time morning came, she'd have spent the whole night awake.

Olivia sighed.

With only one little lamp turned on beside the bed, she made faces of misery and whispered to herself softly.

"I'd been in such a good mood for the past three days…"

But now she just felt glum.

***

Three days ago.

Olivia's spirits lifted every time she looked at the calendar.

[☆September 21☆]

*The Foolish Butler's Birthday!

*Think of a birthday present!

*Give a surprise!

She was looking forward to the foolish butler's birthday party—a party not for inviting lots of people, but for enjoying it between just the two of them. It would be the first birthday she'd celebrate for him since suffering an injury to her leg, and she felt excitement thrumming in her.

Ricardo had never taken much interest in his once-a-year birthday celebration.

"My birthday? Oh, why bother with such things? Just have a bowl of seaweed soup and that's it."

"Seaweed soup?"

"It's a soup made from seaweed."

"Sounds unappetizing."

Last year, and the year before, he only remembered at the last moment, "Oh, right. It's my birthday today," and went off alone into the kitchen to finish his seaweed soup and be done with it.

She expected it would be the same this year.

He never bothered with his own birthday, but was all fired up about hers. Olivia wanted to show the butler how much fun and anticipation a birthday could bring.

So, Olivia prepared a surprise.

She read about it in a book.

[No, Father, You Mustn't Do This!] was the title of a philosophy book.

It was Ricardo's favorite book, containing the wisdom of the world and invaluable life lessons, or so Ricardo said.

When I suggested reading together, Ricardo handed it over with half the pages crossed out with a black pen, but the advice within it was genuinely priceless.

Adultery and jealousy.

How to slap someone without hurting them too much.

And even how to fend off a flirtatious vixen.

Ricardo's cherished book, full of life hacks.

On page 134, it detailed how to create unforgettable memories.

-Father was hiding in my closet.

Although I couldn't make out what came after because Ricardo had blackened it with his pen, I assumed as an intellectual and a prolific reader that the content would be something along the lines of the daughter-in-law being overjoyed by the father-in-law's surprise. Every time he appeared, her face flushed red.

Inspired by this, Olivia decided to prepare Ricardo's birthday surprise.

She toiled for three straight days, almost bursting with the desire to reveal.

She held back the urge to ask Ricardo what September 21st meant, and whether he would like the gift she had prepared.

Asking directly about his likes would have been a dead giveaway.

When she received the gift sent by the maid, she couldn't stop smiling. Forgetting Yuria's diagnosis that her leg couldn't be cured, she earnestly prepared for Ricardo's birthday celebration.

The birthday arrived quickly.

While Ricardo was out practicing with his sword, Olivia had herself placed on a tray pulled by the maid.

Although the tray buckled under her weight, which was as light as a feather, it was just a cheap tray, after all. She thought the butler would be forgiving.

The butler's room, which she eventually reached after some difficulty, was more spartan than she anticipated.

The outdated storage room for dresses had been converted into Ricardo's living space. It neither retained heat nor was it soundproof, a very poor environment indeed.

No decorative items.

No luxuries in the simple room.

The place was built just to hear my voice, and it made me feel sad.

Her eyes caught sight of a book on the desk.

A medical text, smeared with finger marks.

Next to it sat a notebook filled with dense writing.

***

[-On Neurology.

-Once severed, nerves are difficult to regenerate. Particularly the central nervous system…]

This wasn't it either.

I'd have to look for another book.

[-On Rehabilitation.

-Rehabilitation is a miracle. With persistent effort, a miracle can be hoped for…]

Maybe try it every week.

Just so as not to tire out Olivia.

***

A thick notebook full of hard-to-read organizing entries lay on the desk. Olivia clutched the wrapped gift tightly to her chest.

The butler, who'd built a wall against his studies, who would slam his forehead down on the desk at the sight of any book in the academy, was studying at this narrow desk. This thought of him unsettled her.

'Should I have prepared a better gift?'

Even a scarf or gloves bought from the market would have been better. Or perhaps she should have splurged on a tie from a tailor shop frequented by the nobility? Of course, that tiny tie was far beyond the savings in her piggy bank, but the regret wouldn't leave her, and she clumsily clutched the gift.

Time passed, the maid left for home, and it was time for Ricardo to return to his room.

Olivia held her breath inside the closet.

Creak. With the sound of the opening door, Ricardo entered the room drenched in sweat.

"Ah… it's tough."

Sighing, he set his sword beside a chair and undid the buttons of his shirt without a care.

Oblivious to her presence, Ricardo began to bare his skin, causing Olivia to clench her fists.

"…That's not very ladylike."

Pushing aside her mixed emotions, Olivia focused on the surprise and covered her mouth with her hand.

'He doesn't know I'm here.'

Silly Ricardo.

He'll be so surprised when I pop out from the wardrobe.

'I want to tease him soon. Soon. I can't wait to tease him.'

Ricardo slowly shed his clothes. Undoing the sweat-soaked shirt and revealing dangerously sculpted abs. Gulp. She swallowed reflexively.

Olivia's face burned hot. She didn't know where to look and covered her eyes with her hand, but the fingers were spread wide open.

'Uh…!'

If he took off his pants as well, that would be too much.

She thinks she might get a nosebleed.

Her face burning as if about to burst, Olivia grew tense.

'If he starts to take off his pants, I have to come out immediately.'

Olivia peeked through her fingers at the butler's body.

Ricardo undid the buttons of his shirt sleeves. Then, he began to take off the soaked shirt.

Gulp. She swallowed her saliva.

This wasn't sneaking a peek, it was a surprise party, and Olivia convinced herself that even Ricardo would understand, as she focused intently, her eyes fixed with resolve.

Olivia lost her words when she slowly uncovered Ricardo's white bandages.

'Huh?'

There were bandages.

Bandages tightly wrapped around inside his clothes.

This place wasn't a battlefield.

There stood Ricardo, half his body swathed in white bandages.

'What's this?'

A moment of anxiety came rushing in.

Something felt wrong.

The bandages wrapped around half of his body seemed odd.

He had only spoken of his arm, so why was it wrapped so extensively? It was strange.

'A tattoo? No, but Ricardo said he only got one on his arm.'

'It's probably nothing. Just bandages to cover up the tattoo.'

She denied it out loud.

Denying the truth that she knew was beyond those bandages, denying the truth even to herself.

She had been able to guess since she'd seen the blue wound before. She thought she was mentally prepared.

She had planned to ask Ricardo and talk about it while he was on leave.

'He said it wasn't an injury, Ricardo was clear.'

Her heart apparently wasn't ready yet.

Hands trembling, Olivia looked at Ricardo as he unwrapped the bandages from his body.

As Ricardo revealed the hidden scars while unwrapping the bandages in front of the mirror, tears suddenly fell down her cheek.

'No… no!'

[Ricardo's hidden secret unveiled. 1/1]

'It's not true…! Ricardo, for certain, for sure. That's what he said!'

She acted out a futile tantrum.

She denied it over and over, insisting that the putrefying right arm couldn't possibly have anything to do with her.

But the damn blue window before her eyes caught her fleeing self.

"It's ridiculous."

Yuria's words flashed through her mind.

-Huh? Didn't you say it was a wound from black magic running wild?

-Yes.

-But why does it look so clean…? This doesn't make sense.

-It doesn't make sense?

-Usually, when someone fails with black magic, it burns up the mana circuit on the spot, leading to instant death, or the flesh slowly necroes and consumes away, but Olivia, you're spotlessly clean both inside and out.

Yuria's words remembering a moment that she looked at her with wonder.

-It's a miracle. A miracle.

-Normally, your leg should have rotted away.

-Since holy power doesn't work, it seems right it was due to black magic damage…

The scars starting from the chest like burn marks, all twisted apart. And his blackened right arm.

Time seemed to stop.

Within three seconds' time, dozens of thoughts raced through her head, and her lips quivered as if broken.

That was what Ricardo had meant by "tree bark."

That it resembled tree bark.

He had meant that arm.

Those split black scars, he called them bark?

Olivia shook.

It would have been better if she remained ignorant.

When she could have just shamelessly known nothing. Although it was a wretched thought, Olivia couldn't bring herself to look at Ricardo's face.

'If only this closet door would not open…'

She wanted to run away.

She had never loathed her immobile legs more.

The butler's hand reached closer.

Internally, Olivia pleaded.

'Don't open it.'

'Please don't open it.'

'Please… I'm not ready in my heart…'

But time wouldn't wait for her fragile heart, and she inadvertently met eyes with the flustered butler.

"Ah… Miss?"

The sin was her, yet Ricardo looked at her as if he was the one who sinned.

The first words uttered by a perplexed Ricardo crushed her heart.

"Ah… I tripped, that's why."

Then, Olivia thought to herself.

'I'm really trash.'

***

Alone in the room, Olivia stared at the blue window in front of her with empty eyes.

[Q. His hidden secret has been completed.

The day the master he served for 13 years fell, Ricardo was there.

No one knew what happened that day, except for just one person.

The butler knows the truth of that day.

Ricardo intended to hide the events of that day for a lifetime. The secret of that day he wished to quietly pass unnoticed.

(!) Uncover the secrets of that day.

1. See Ricardo's hidden secret. (1/1)

2. Touch Ricardo's hidden secret. (1/1)]

['The Man's Secret' can be accessed.]

[Would you like to view it?]

Olivia nodded her head before the world became black.

*** ***

[You have 10 minutes before viewing begins.]

It's a familiar room.

Not her own room, adorned with photos of Michail on all walls, but a room filled with plain furniture.

A year ago. It used to be Ricardo's room.

Olivia, awakening on the cold floor, let out a sigh.

"I really came…"

Back again to the past.

At first, she thought she was going mad, but now she was coming to accept it. That she had come to the past.

She didn't know whether it was punishment for living badly or a godsend telling her to live kindly from now on, but acceptance came before denial.

Her hands trembled. The scene she was about to witness played in her head, causing her hands to sweat.

Olivia wiped the sweat off her hands on her dress.

'I want to run away.'

With eyes full of worry, she looked down at her feet.

Clean and tidy legs.

Olivia wiggled her toes.

"…"

They were not welcome.

Had this been real, she would've jumped about joyfully, just like she did the first time she arrived, bouncing on the bed. But now, the movement of her legs felt unwelcome.

She wished they'd just stay still.

If she closed her eyes and turned over, everything would be over. But…

"I have to see it. I can't just keep running away."

It was her choice.

A bold decision made because she didn't want to hide and pretend not to know. Watching her restless toes, Olivia mustered the courage and slowly got up.

The current time was 4:50 in the morning.

Ricardo was lying in bed, breathing evenly in his sky-blue pajamas adorned with teddy bear patterns, the butler asleep.

At the sight of the peacefully sleeping Ricardo, Olivia smiled wistfully.

"Sleep well."

Ricardo, sleeping so peacefully it felt wrong to wake him, Olivia reached out her hand to stroke his red hair.

[You are viewing from the observer's perspective. You cannot interfere with the subject.]

"Right."

Back then and even now, it was the same blue barrier preventing her from touching anything.

"Haa…"

Olivia sighed deeply.

The quiet mansion.

On this day, it was just Ricardo and I in the mansion.

The servants had all resigned.

I had driven them away.

Amidst the silence enveloping the room, Olivia looked up at the upper floors.

At this time, her past self was probably deploying black magic. Laughing like a madman while casting the spell.

And then…

Within 10 more minutes, she would realize it had failed.

Olivia took a deep breath.

Her hand kept trembling from tension.

Still, there were 10 minutes left.

If she just sat there, she would sink even further into despair, so Olivia stood up and surveyed the butler's room.

"It's been really long. That closet, the table and all…"

The butler's room was ordinary.

Not her current room, a repurposed dress warehouse, but the second best room in the mansion, used by the butler.

The butler's room, past or present, remained the same.

Still clean.

Well-organized.

And the sweet fragrance of lilacs.

Typical of Ricardo. The room was neat.

During the period when she was expelled from the Royal Academy and was distant from Ricardo, she had not visited his room, and she discovered this was how he'd arranged it.

The sight of Ricardo's room she saw for the first time in a long while brought back memories.

She touched the golden butler insignia he'd shown off when he became a real butler and brushed a finger over the uniform from the Academy of old memories.

Caught in the nostalgia, Olivia found herself unable to step away.

Especially, that table.

On the table in the center of the room was a chocolate cake from the dessert shop she frequented.

An untouched chocolate cake.

Just a fork placed beside it, waiting for its owner.

Olivia's steps halted.

It seemed like he had prepared it, expecting me to come to the room after cooling off….

Olivia clenched her fist.

"Idiot."

Olivia sat down next to the peacefully sleeping Ricardo. She lifted the blanket covering him to check, driven by a faint hope.

Hoping for a bad thought.

If his hand had been injured since then, perhaps the past she would soon witness would feel a little less painful. Despite the wicked thought, she wanted to relieve some of the guilt built up inside her.

Otherwise, she truly felt she couldn't bear to look at Ricardo's face.

Ricardo's injuries seemed so painful, and just thinking about them made it hard to breathe.

Swoosh. Olivia lifted the blanket.

Slowly, Ricardo's body came into Olivia's view.

A body without scars.

And clean arms.

Olivia's strength left her, and she bowed her head.

It was too clean.

Like an unmarked canvas.

"What do I do, seriously?"

She felt like she was going crazy.

Someone should come and tell her it's just a dream.

That she is, in fact, having a nightmare.

That she should wake up quickly.

However, her wildly beating heart was telling her it was not a dream.

Olivia murmured.

"Is it because of me?"

As she stroked Ricardo's head.

"…then what do I do?"

Tick tock, as time went by, Olivia's heartbeat thumped fiercely. As the minute hand moved steadily toward the appointed time, Olivia's heart raced even more.

The time was 4:59.

The moment had come.

[The viewing begins.]

***

Tick.

"Yawn… Did I sleep… well?"

Shaking off his drowsiness with a yawn, Ricardo, who had just woken up, was looking for the glass of water on his nightstand. Then, with trembling eyes, he muttered to himself.

"What is this?"

Ricardo, looking into thin air, tilted his head.

"Uh…?"

Ricardo cursed out loud.

"Damn it!"

Bang. Without hesitation, Ricardo leaped out of bed, flung the door open, and despite everything he proclaimed about a butler's decorum, he dashed up to the second floor.

"Damn…damn…!"

The butler hurried up the stairs, swearing and breathless.

Olivia gasped for breath as she followed Ricardo. Her constitution was rather poor, and she wasn't used to walking. Ricardo quickly disappeared from her view.

***OLIVIA POV***

"Huff..puff…! Wait for me.."

-Thud, bang..!

The sound of someone tumbling down the stairs echoed.

Thump… Thud—the sound of Ricardo rolling down the stairs. A dull sound like breaking bones was heard, but Ricardo bit down hard on his teeth and grabbed the railing to pull himself up.

Even as he fell, Ricardo, looking up at the second floor, hurried towards a single door, his eyes shaking.

-Please. Please… please, Miss!

He couldn't catch up.

Not emotionally.

Not physically.

Ricardo was rushing like a child who had just heard fatal news about his parents.

I clutched my heart, which felt like it was about to burst, and chased after Ricardo.

Ricardo stood in front of the door, panting for breath.

[No Entry.]

[Especially. Ricardo, no knocking.]

-Sigh…

Ricardo let out a deep sigh and knocked on the door.

-Miss. It's Ricardo.

There was no answer.

Of course.

The room was enchanted with a silence spell.

No sound from inside the room could escape, and no sound from outside could come in.

Ricardo banged on the door violently.

-Miss.

There was no answer.

Ricardo pounded on the door with his fist.

Desperate for a response, Ricardo's breath quickened, and he ground his teeth at the silence.

-I'll just open it.

The door creaked open.

Frozen in time, Ricardo stood still in front of the now-opened door, unable to enter or scream; he just stood trembling, his complexion pale, stuttering.

-M... Miss?

Ricardo spoke with a shaky voice.

While watching the black smoke rising in the room.

With trembling eyes, he called for my past self.

I held my nose.

A strange odor filled the air.

The smell of a decaying corpse.

My stomach churned.

Ricardo spoke again.

-Olivia, Miss?

His hand shaking, Ricardo looked beyond the door with a voice about to cry, calling out her own name.

I squeezed past Ricardo and peered into the room.

And just like Ricardo, my body stiffened in shock.

-Oh…?

The floor was charred black.

White ash fluttered in the air.

The moonlight leaking through the curtains pathetically illuminated a woman crouching in the center of the room.

Her entire body was stained black, blood flowing from various parts.

It was herself.

The villainess from a year ago.

Her figure was so mangled it was unrecognizable as a noble lady.

Her body had turned black.

A vile stench wafted around her.

'Is that me?'

Tears streaked her face.

Blood flowed from her lips that she had bitten to endure the pain.

The past me, moaning in pain and curled up, when she saw Ricardo at the door, spoke with a voice barely alive.

She reached out her hand and wheezed.

-It's Michail.

-I'm sorry… you must be busy.

-But Michail.. I'm in so much pain…

-I'm really, really in pain… it really hurts…

Ricardo's expression turned cold.

From the moment the name Michail left my lips, his face hardened, and he began striding into the room.

Looking at myself collapsed on the floor, I thought.

'Crazy woman.'

Really...

'She's gone mad.'

What is love, anyway?

What's so important about love?

Why is she calling out Michail's name in this situation?

And then.

Ricardo, why do you have that look on your face?

Biting my lip hard, I watched Ricardo, who was quickly approaching, and clenched my fist.

Ricardo spoke to the me lying on the floor.

-Yes…

In a gentler voice than ever.

-It's Michail.

He deceived himself into being Michail while cradling the fallen me.

I knew how much he hated Michail. He hated being with him and even detested saying his name.

Because of Michail, I was ruined.

I knew Ricardo well.

I knew how much Ricardo hated Michail.

Yet, he held me tight with a relieved expression and lied, calling himself Michail.

-Huh… No… it's not Michail…

My heart ached painfully.

Ricardo cradled me in his arms and gently patted my back.

The past me clung to Ricardo and smiled brightly, saying foolishly.

-It's Michail…

-It's really Michail…

Ricardo, embracing the broken me, spoke.

-Yes… Did I keep you waiting too long?

With careful handling, as if touching a fragile piece of glass art, he whispered.

-I'll take your pain away now, Miss.

Ricardo's nightwear began to stain red.

-Just like how you took mine years ago-

The black spots that had covered her skin began to crawl over Ricardo's hands.

Arms and back.

Legs and shoulders.

To the chest and abdomen.

As the black spots spread across Ricardo's body at a slow pace, the ones remaining on her body began to fade.

"…Is this it?"

Watching the scene, I murmured as if under a spell.

"Is this the secret you've been hiding…?"

My breathing quickened.

It was happening right before my eyes, the thing I'd barely dared consider. I couldn't stop the rush of bad thoughts.

My hands trembled.

I thought that no nightmare could be scarier than this moment. Even the one where I had died before, didn't seem as frightening as this.

"Ricardo… what are you doing?"

Holding me tightly in his arms, Ricardo started to absorb the rampaging magic. His shoulders were shaking as he clenched his teeth to soak up the tainted magic.

Dark magic is a convenient kind of magic that can produce powerful effects with just one medium.

Supernatural powers or

Things that can't be done with magic.

And also a powerful means of attack.

Unlike magic that requires formulas, computations, and magical energy, dark magic can produce powerful effects with just a medium.

Because that is the reason for dark magic's existence.

Dark magic that exhibits overwhelming effects with only strong magic power or sacrifices.

At that time, I had invoked dark magic as collateral for my magic power.

If it wasn't for her twisted personality, she would have been chosen as the next head of the Desmond family with the substantial magical power that she now used as a medium for dark magic just to win the heart of one man.

If such tremendous power becomes corrupt and goes berserk, it would create a pain as if a bomb had exploded inside the body.

It would sear hotly inside with a 'boom.'

And start burns from deep within with a ripping pain, 'bang.' And the necrotizing skin would be wounded beyond recovery.

In the end. It would lead to death.

If I wasn't a fool, I couldn't be unaware of what Ricardo was doing. No, I shouldn't be unaware.

It was like he was absorbing all the sequelae of black magic, similar to ancient Eastern cupping therapy that drew out pooled blood.

Faced with the unbelievable situation, I said to Ricardo.

"What are you doing…?"

I tried to grab Ricardo's shoulder with the intention of making him stop, but a blue barrier prevented me from touching him.

[You're a spectator. You cannot interfere with the subject.]

I couldn't touch him.

"Don't stop me…"

I whined at the inconsiderate blue barrier, but as always, it only repeated that I couldn't interfere.

I bit my lip and said,

"Don't stop me…"

I couldn't stop the foolish acts of that man.

I could only watch from the side.

Even as Ricardo cried tears of pain, and my heart raced as if it was going mad, I could do nothing but watch.

It felt as if a torn heart was being wounded again. Watching Ricardo's injury seemed to rip open a huge gash in my tattered heart.

I screamed at Ricardo.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Even though I knew my voice couldn't reach Ricardo, I felt like I'd go mad if I didn't do at least this.

My voice trembled,

And strength left my legs.

My breath quivered.

The sight of Ricardo's arms turning black and his complexion growing pale was terrifying.

The past me had buried her face on Ricardo's shoulder.

-Michail.

…

-Michail… My body is so hot.

-I'm sorry. That's because… I rushed over too quickly…

'Why is he speaking to me like that…?'

I hadn't done anything for him.

Why is he caring so tenderly for me, when all I knew was to get angry? If it were me… If I were him, I would not have acted like this.

If Ricardo was lying on the ground using black magic like me… could I do what he's doing now? No, I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to.

Tears flowed endlessly.

"So please… stop!"

Stop it.

I wanted to believe it was just the leftover traces of black magic.

I wished the direct cause wasn't me, like chocolate sticking to my hands. Even if it was my fault, I wished it was just a small nuisance, like a crumb.

Maybe then I could lift my head just a little.

But this.

This was real.

-Haah… Haah…

There was no way to escape.

Strength drained from my legs.

In front of panting Ricardo, I buried my face in my knees and wept.

I couldn't look.

I didn't want to look.

Because I knew how much pain Ricardo would be in, because I had seen myself dying. Even though it was only for a moment, I had experienced that terrible pain, and it had left my body like this.

I couldn't look.

The agony of flesh burning.

The terrible scorching pain, along with the painful disintegration of magic circuits, tearing apart the body—I knew all too well that all this was happening to Ricardo without pause.

"Don't do it, you fool…!"

I crouched down, shaking my head from side to side.

"Waaahh…. Whaaahhh…"

Ricardo clenched his teeth, enduring the pain. He didn't stop stroking the head of the past self that had buried her face in his shoulder, speaking with a shaking voice.

-Does it hurt a lot?

-Yes. It hurts a lot. But now it hurts just a little.

-That's a relief. Really.

I clenched my fists.

I wiped away unceasing tears and a runny nose with my sleeves, bit my lip, and raised my head.

I had to look.

I had to remember with my own eyes so I could apologize when I returned. Though my heart felt like it would burst, and tears obscured my vision, I had to face the truth in this moment.

Only then could I ask for forgiveness and know where the pain was.

Ricardo wouldn't show me.

Even if I pleaded and cried, foolishly hiding his wounds with a smile.

I clenched my teeth and moved my crouching legs.

I had to look up close.

That was the only way to know.

When I reached Ricardo once again, I took a deep breath. I vowed not to miss anything, to etch everything into my memory.

I sniffled, sucking back the tears, determined to apologize to Ricardo when I returned and to resolve to do better in the future.

"I can do this."

I had seen how horribly I was destroyed.

I had witnessed Ricardo's pain as well. I told myself I wouldn't be surprised anymore. I firmly promised that.

But soon after, witnessing what followed, I moved reflexively as if my film had been cut.

-Cough…

"Uh…?"

Blood flowed.

From Ricardo's mouth.

A small cough burst like a dam, and the fresh blood dripped down Ricardo's chin.

Ricardo's eyes went wide.

Apparently, he didn't know this would happen either, as he continued to cough, his shoulders heaving.

-Cough.. Cough…

I couldn't hold onto my rationality.

-Oh… this is bad.

Ricardo covered his mouth with his hand, coughing and trembling as if in pain.

-Cough… Cough.. Ugh.. Ah. Haah.. Haah..

-Michail, does it hurt?

-No.. Cough.. It's nothing. Nothing at all.

As the past me nestled in his embrace tried to turn her head, Ricardo pressed the back of her head with his right hand to keep her face buried in his shoulder. He held her head with one hand to stop her from looking back and covered his mouth with the other.

Watching this scene, the present me desperately grabbed at Ricardo's arm, pressing on the back of the head.

Even if my hand was flung away.

Even if I passed through like a ghost.

I struggled with all my might, like a madwoman, to pull away Ricardo's arm.

"Let go…!"

[You are a spectator. You cannot interfere with the subject.]

"Let go, I said!"

[You are a spectator. You cannot interfere with the subject.]

"You Bastards! let… let.. let go… please…!"

[You are a spectator. You cannot interfere with the subject.]

"Let go… Please…!"

As time passed, Ricardo's complexion turned deathly pale.

Shaking like a leaf in the wind.

His eyes losing focus.

If only that hand could be removed.

If he stopped holding onto the crazy woman calling Michail's name in his embrace, he wouldn't have to suffer like this.

What's so pretty about me.

Why does he did that for me, someone who was only stubborn and prone to anger… My heart felt like it was going to burst.

I couldn't find any answers.

"Don't do it, you fool…!"

He was decaying.

His right hand was losing its vitality, turning black.

The spreading black spots heated the flesh they touched, leaving raw wounds all over, and Ricardo's magical circuits were tangled like a knotted thread ball.

The image of Ricardo breaking apart.

It wasn't pleasant to watch.

I felt so pitiful for being unable to do anything and for feeling so helplessly stupid.

I clung to Ricardo and cried. I cried like mad and kept on crying.

"Don't… Just don't…!"

Ricardo bit his lip.

He muttered in a voice too soft for me to hear.

-This really hurts quite a bit.

-It must have hurt a lot.

-It's truly a relief… that I got here.

No real answer came forth.

My mind went blank, as if bleached white, and I couldn't articulate words. I was just dumbly shedding tears.

Every time I saw Ricardo's trembling hand, struggling to breathe, I remembered the things I had done in the past.

-You smell.

-Do I smell bad?

-Yeah. It's atrocious. Like something rotting.

Words that I said in anger not long after my legs were ruined returned to me like stabbing knives.

-Get lost.

-I'll make sure to clean myself thoroughly.

-You're filthy, commoner.

I recalled how, after that day, Ricardo would douse himself in lilac perfume, overwhelming to the point of dizziness.

Olivia clenched her fist at the sight.

"Ah…"

So that was why.

The strong perfume.

The long shirts he always wore.

The sudden grip on my wrist, pulling me out of the room.

It was all because of me.

I knelt on the floor and pressed my forehead to the ground.

I bent over and clutched at my heart as if I was going mad.

"Huuk… Whaa… It hurts.. It hurts… My chest hurts so much…"

What is this?

What the hell is this…

I didn't know it could hurt like this.

"It hurts so much…"

I couldn't raise my head.

"I'm sorry…"

I am sorry I was so unworthy.

"I didn't know it would end up like this…"

I didn't know you'd be in such pain.

"I'm truly sorry…"

Amidst the sobs, holding onto my chest, Ricardo's voice filled the room.

A low and serene voice.

A soft soliloquy laced with slight questioning sounded calmly.

-Maybe I can survive this.

Not a word to himself.

But to his hopelessly pathetic master.

I was just silently crying. That was all I could do.

***

It was blood.

Everywhere was soaked with blood.

The past me was nestled in Ricardo's embrace, breathing smoothly in sleep, while Ricardo, with his head bowed, was stroking my sleeping head.

Blood dripped from his pajamas.

His whole body was drenched in it.

And his face smeared with fatigue.

His lips were cracked like a desert.

His right hand, baring bone, was dripping with red blood.

I said,

"You always said you couldn't bear the pain…"

I said it while weeping.

"You said you couldn't bear the pain."

I resented Ricardo so much, for stroking the peacefully sleeping version of me, not letting out even a slight scream.

Even if the veins were about to burst.

Even if black magic engulfed his body.

Even if the backlash to the magic caused burns on his skin, he endured silently and whispered it was going to be okay.

I hated him so much.

"What am I supposed to do now?"

Ricardo touched the cheek of the sleeping me, and a small smile appeared on his lips.

-I am going to be there when you need me the most.

-I am going to be there when you don't need me at all.

-So Miss...I'm thankful that you're still alive.

With those words, the long nightmare came to an end.

*** ***

I struggled to open my eyes.

Perhaps I had been crying even in my unconscious state, as the corners of my eyes were damp. A sigh escaped me. I felt troubled, and my body was heavy.

"Haah."

The dimly lit room I saw was dark. It seemed like it was still night.

I didn't want to get up.

I didn't know how to face Ricardo or what expression to wear.

Did I have to smile like a fool, pretending to know nothing? Or should I look downcast and ask for forgiveness?

I wasn't sure myself.

What should I do? I knew I had to apologize, but I couldn't come up with a proper answer in my head.

There was so much I wanted to ask.

I wanted to ask if he was okay, if he wasn't in pain, but I felt like I wouldn't be able to say anything when I actually saw Ricardo.

What should I do?

A heavy feeling once again dampened the corners of my eyes.

"Cough… Cough…"

My throat felt scratchy.

Perhaps because of the change in seasons, it seemed like a cold had taken hold of me.

My head felt hot, possibly feverish, and I seemed to have a runny nose.

Feeling hot on the forehead.

Running a fever.

Feeling confused.

It was quite a troubling situation all around.

"Cough… Cough…"

I reached for the water on the nightstand beside my bed. My hand only brushed the handle, failing to grasp it. With the fatigue possibly from the cold, my body quickly grew tired. I stretched out my hand again in vain before bringing it back onto the bed.

'I just won't drink.'

You don't die from not drinking a glass of water.

As I closed my eyes to sleep, I felt a warm touch on my forehead.

"Are you thirsty?"

A familiar voice reached me.

A warm and gentle voice.

Olivia opened her eyes wide. She had heard a voice she hadn't expected.

The room spun slightly from the sickness and heavy with sleep, but the man before her was vividly clear.

Her butler, Ricardo, with bright red hair and an awkward smile.

Ricardo was pressing his hand against my forehead.

With one hand on his own forehead and the other on my feverish forehead, Ricardo, lost in deep thought, smiled faintly when our eyes met.

I wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but the bucket filled with ice water and a wet towel nearby suggested he'd been there for a while.

"…A ghost?"

Ricardo extended a glass of water he had poured from the nightstand beside the bed. Supporting my back with one hand, he helped me to sit up, and I bowed my head to accept the cup he offered.

"Not a ghost, but a handsome butler."

I couldn't find words to say.

In the vision shown by the blue window, I had organized in my mind what I would apologize for when I met Ricardo. But now that I was actually facing Ricardo, my mind went completely blank.

"Have you woken up?"

"…"

I carefully took the cup Ricardo offered. The cold chill from the cup seemed to soothe some of the fever and eased the weight in my heart.

"Gulp… Gulp…"

Ricardo watched my face as I drank, then gave an uneasy smile.

"If you're in pain, you should tell me. It must have given you a fright, right?"

"…"

"Your forehead is burning like fire, and you were crying in your sleep, so it worried me a lot."

"…"

Ricardo whined.

If I was in pain, I should have said something.

It seemed like he had been caring for me since the late evening. He had stayed up all night watching over me.

I felt sorry.

At the same time, I felt a sense of rebellion.

He was the same. He wouldn't say he was in pain either. Clutching the water cup in my hand, I replied curtly.

"I am not in pain."

Ricardo let out a hollow laugh. As he dipped the warm towel back into the ice water, he muttered 'thought you would be burned but you say you are not in pain' and wrung out the towel.

"Why were you moaning in pain like that? You couldn't even drink water."

"That's because I was having a nightmare."

"A nightmare?"

Ricardo pondered a bit. Resting his chin on his hand and deep in thought, he smiled and spoke to me.

"Did you dream again about being turned down by Michail?"

Eek!

I grabbed the wet towel that had been laid on my forehead. I intended to throw it at Ricardo as I usually would, but I remembered the previous scene and stopped.

Ricardo looked at me with worry-filled eyes.

My behavior was out of the ordinary and appeared to make him concerned about my well-being. Really, a butler with no talent for acting.

We spent time in silence.

Ricardo kept changing the wet towel, and I surrendered to his care.

The time was now 4 a.m.

It was still night, the deepest time before dawn. I spoke to Ricardo, who was checking my temperature by placing his hand on my forehead.

"Go."

"What?"

"Just go. You are sleepy."

"I am not sleepy."

He was sleepy. Dark circles were drawn down to his eyes, and he was fighting off sleep, slapping his cheeks to stay awake – I saw that.

And it was awkward.

There was a moment's silence in the room.

Ricardo observed my face, and I felt uncomfortable sharing the same space with him.

I couldn't speak.

It was hard to even start talking.

And it bothered me to abruptly say I was sorry.

Ricardo wrung out the towel again and placed it on my forehead. Ricardo quietly swapped out the forehead towel and then cast a word like a stone skipping across water.

"Miss."

"Yes?"

"That…"

Ricardo trailed off.

He let out a long sigh, bowed his head, and then said.

"I am sorry."

"What?"

Ricardo made a blunt apology. For a moment, I was taken aback. I didn't understand why he was apologizing, and it was I who should have been the one to apologize.

Ricardo, with my puzzled face in view, quietly talked about his own wrongdoing.

"It's about the hand."

"…"

"It was not my intention to hide it…"

Ricardo confessed the secret about his hand. I had not expected Ricardo to start the conversation.

I slipped my hand beneath the blanket and clenched my pajamas into a fist.

I was anxious. I fretted about what Ricardo would say next, and at the same time, I felt a sense of hopelessness as if I were locked in a prison.

If Ricardo were to speak of that day's event, I didn't know what I would do.

I couldn't handle it.

Ricardo spoke.

He spoke to me somewhat calmly.

"I hid it because I was worried you would be concerned. As you can see, the scar on my hand is quite unsightly… I've already healed, so there's no need for you to worry, but it does look quite grotesque, doesn't it? Haha… I thought I would tell you after it faded a bit."

Ricardo was making excuses. I could easily spot the lies within the truth he was telling.

He was genuinely considerate of my feelings. But the claim that he was fully healed was false.

Now that I understood all his secrets, Ricardo's lies struck me like daggers.

I spoke in a sharp voice, a bit cold and filled with indignation.

"Do I not… get to worry?"

"What?"

Confusion returned in Ricardo's reaction. I said to him again.

"Am I not supposed to worry? I'm quite good at worrying, you know."

Ricardo shook his head.

"The worrying is my responsibility."

He was resolute in his response.

I shook my head.

"Where does it say that?"

I was getting emotional.

"Where does it say that? If you're hurt, you're supposed to say you're hurt. If you're injured, you should say so. Can't you do that too?"

My heart was aching. Knowing I couldn't handle it, I spoke out of spite.

"We agreed to talk."

Ricardo bowed his head.

"I am sorry."

So many thoughts were racing.

Since that day, facing death, I wondered how much Ricardo must have resented me. What emotions he must have felt towards me as I cried and called out for Michail.

It must have been disgust.

As I delved deeper into those thoughts, my heart grew heavier.

I wanted to cover my own mouth that was blurting out words I couldn't handle, but this twitching heart would not settle down.

My head involuntarily bowed. I couldn't look directly at Ricardo's face.

"Miss."

Ricardo's voice reached me…

This time, the good-hearted butler's voice, folding the towel neatly and placing it on my hot forehead, echoed softly on the wind of the dark dawn.

The butler spoke.

"Are you very angry?"

I looked at Ricardo without saying a word. His expression didn't seem promising. He looked down at me with a face full of guilt, and I felt like I was about to cry.

I clenched the pajamas I hid under the blanket with my hand.

'Why are you looking at me like that?'

That was the first thought that crossed my mind. Why are you looking at me with that face? I wanted to ask, and it hurt me even more.

Ricardo took hold of my hand hidden under the bed covers. His hand, full of callouses, gently enveloped my uninjured soft hand.

"I am the one who is wrong."

Ricardo's monologue continued.

"I know. You must feel upset and betrayed. I think even I would feel that way."

Touching my hand, as if confessing a fault to a priest, Ricardo slowly shared his story.

"But, I didn't want to show it. It's not a pretty wound… what if it appeared in your dreams."

My fist clenched.

It was a wound I caused.

I wanted to tell Ricardo it was a wound caused by me, but my frightened heart wouldn't easily move. I feared the thought, what if I tell the truth, and Ricardo ends up disliking me?

I was caught. Now the lady hates me. I should have let myself die from the pain back then, I thought selfishly, and such worries made my lips heavy.

Even now, I've thought it over dozens, hundreds of times. How can I apologize to Ricardo? Or more than an apology, how can I manage to say I'm sorry?

No matter how much I thought and pondered, no answer came to me.

Ricardo then said to me.

"Miss. It's about this wound."

Strength flowed into my hand.

I feared the words from Ricardo's mouth might return as a dagger.

I took a deep breath, and the words he was about to utter felt terrifyingly selfish.

"It's a wound from the dungeon."

Ricardo smiled faintly as he spoke.

"Actually, last time I went to the dungeon…"

"What did you just say…"

Tears welled up.

Why does he do this… why does he make that face again as he speaks?

"Why are you doing this?"

He knows.

"Why. Why are you lying?"

He remembers everything. Not me, who stupidly cannot remember, but he… He remembers that time. So how can he speak like that?

"Why are you lying?"

Ricardo smiled as his face showed embarrassment.

"I apologize. I hid it as if it was a tattoo…"

A surge of emotion burst forth.

"That arm…!"

My voice trembled.

"That arm. That's… "

I couldn't speak. I was trembling too much. I was too scared. But because this overwhelming frustration was suffocating, I felt like I would collapse if I didn't say it.

"It's what I did…"

I sobbed.

Tears stupidly streamed down my cheeks, again and again.

Ricardo smiled awkwardly.

"Did you know?"

Ricardo firmly held my hand as he spoke.

"It's okay."

That one phrase cut through my heart like a dagger, more painful and sharp than anything else, stabbing into my chest.

I hated the sight of Ricardo, smiling as if nothing was wrong, holding my hand firmly.

Sharp questions rose to the tip of my tongue—aren't you mad at me? You, an unrelated person, went through such horrible pain because of me, aren't you filled with resentment toward me?

I clenched my teeth and spoke to Ricardo.

"What's… 'okay'?"

It was a question fueled by resentment. Why put on the pretense that it's okay when it clearly wasn't? That's what I wanted to know.

I gripped Ricardo's hand tightly—so tight my hand trembled. I was angry and I hated the lying Ricardo. I wanted him to understand that I was sincere.

"What do you mean it's okay?"

It wasn't disdain or resentment, but Ricardo looked at me with sadness, as if to say he was sorry. I wished he would say something, anything.

It would have been easier if he had scolded me then and there.

Call me a bad woman.

Say that his body was ruined because of me.

Don't just keep silent, yell at me if you have to. Then maybe I would feel better.

'It's okay,' he says.

Ricardo's words echoed in my head like an echo.

I asked Ricardo, hoping for a candid response. I hoped even the kindest of you, the you that always looks after me, could not harbor any hatred towards me.

At the same time, I hoped Ricardo wouldn't utter any harsh words. Because I was a coward full of fear.

My voice trembled.

I wanted to speak fiercely.

I wanted to scold him for playing around, but stupidly my voice trembled.

"It's not okay. It can't be okay…!"

I thought to myself.

It was a delusion that you also hate me for not being able to erase the scar.

Creating an indelible scar and causing terrible suffering, and the only thing that comes back is a madwoman looking for Michail.

I think I would have hated it if it were me.

Regardless of whether it's a butler or a friend, I would have just run away. Why didn't you?

Although countless thoughts and indignation poured from within, the words that came out were only a coward's whining.

"Don't lie."

"This isn't a lie."

Tears dripped onto the blanket.

Tears flowed again because the butler was unwilling to say anything bad to me until the end.

I thought I had cried enough, but apparently, there were still many tears left.

Hiding my crying face, I said.

"It hurt."

"…"

"You were hurting as if you'd die."

"It's oka…"

"What's… what's okay!!!"

I yanked Ricardo's hand away irritably.

"You could have died! Know that?! You could have died….!"

Ricardo bowed his head.

He wasn't at fault, yet he bowed his head, clenching his fist on the bed. Ricardo, whose shoulders were hunched over and fists were opening and closing, pained my heart.

I buried my face in the blanket.

I rubbed my eyes and tried to calm the trembling heart, but the quivering shoulders couldn't stop the crying.

"You could have died right there…."

"…"

Ricardo exhaled deeply.

I could feel a small tremble in the sigh he let out.

Breathing another long breath, Ricardo, with my face buried in the blanket, whispered to me.

"I knew."

Ricardo's calm voice chilled my heart. I felt like my breath stopped. Because I heard words I didn't want to hear from Ricardo's mouth.

Before I could question 'why…', Ricardo continued his words.

"I thought it was for the best."

The best… Hard to deny but the only way. It was the best way because of that. Yet, there would have also been the option of not saving me…

I was at a loss for words at the mention of 'the best.'

Ricardo spoke with a trembling voice. It felt as though he didn't want to talk, conveying with a voice tinged with forced trembling.

"Miss. You see, I…"

I hear Ricardo sigh heavily.

Frantically combing his hair back, Ricardo, just like me, buried his face in his hand as he spoke.

"You are truly precious to me."

"It's really dangerous! You could have died!"

"I know. I am aware you cherish me, Miss. That's why you employed a poor dying orphan like me as your butler."

I objected to Ricardo's assertive defense. It wasn't such a big deal to risk his life over.

I wasn't a hero like Michail who would save the world, nor a woman like Yuria who was loved by all, so there was no reason whatsoever to risk one's life for a bad-tempered villainess like me.

I simply picked up Ricardo out of curiosity, and it was just his luck. I couldn't believe he would risk his life for something so trivial.

Because it felt like a lie for my sake.

So, I spoke directly.

"You'd risk your life over something so small? Are you crazy? Did you think you were some saint or hero?"

"It wasn't something so small."

Ricardo made a displeased face as he lifted his bangs. It was an expression even uglier than when he showed his scar on his arm.

He showed me a lightly indented scar on his forehead.

Though it had faded over time, the deep marks proved it was indeed a scar. Ricardo took a deep breath and continued talking.

"To me, it wasn't anything minor."

I didn't really know much about that scar. All I did was pick up a dying kid in the rain.

The scar didn't mean much to me.

I said to Ricardo.

"That's just… you were lucky."

Ricardo spoke decisively.

"Sometimes, that luck can change a person."

Ricardo covered his forehead.

"To just call it luck diminishes the significance of how it changed my life. I was begging in slums, extracting tolls from other kids."

"You were a kid too."

"I was an extraordinary kid, so I'm an exception."

Ricardo sighed deeply.

"I am a butler. A butler who has stood by you for 13 years. A butler who knows well what you like and dislike."

"You're just a butler."

Ricardo smiled playfully.

"What do you mean, 'just a butler'? I take pride in my profession, you know."

It was a pointless statement.

What was so great about being a butler? All they got was a mere appointment plaque and a black butler's suit, without the estates, assets, and social command that other nobles had—a butler for a fallen noble lady wasn't much.

Ricardo's words were nothing but a grand-sounding excuse.

I wanted to know Ricardo's true feelings.

I wanted to know his true feelings—his resentment towards me.

And so I spoke crookedly. Like a hedgehog raising its spines unintentionally, I reflexively bristled.

"Better you curse me."

"…"

"Better you tell me to my face that you hate me, that I make you uncomfortable… say it if you pity me."

I was displaying false pride.

Because no other answer came to me.

I couldn't accept such actions if it wasn't out of pity.

Ricardo looked at me.

He saw me dropping tears onto the blanket while spitting out cold words.

"Miss, if you tell someone to curse with that kind of face, it carries no conviction, you know?"

"How can anyone curse while sniveling and dripping with snot?"

I told him.

Stop playing around.

This time, I glared at Ricardo with a somewhat harsh expression, but Ricardo responded seriously as well.

Ricardo sighed. He glanced once at the window glittering with stars, and then at my face.

The face that dripped with tears I couldn't help shedding despite not wanting to cry.

"Miss, you said you cared for me. I care a bit more for you than you do for me. Just a tiny bit more."

"What's that supposed to mean…"

"13 years is more compelling than one thinks. At our first meeting, I thought you were a madwoman, but as time passed, I developed a kind of affection for you."

Ricardo smiled sweetly.

"You asked me to curse you, didn't you?"

He whispered a curse softly into my ear.

"Fool."

Then he raised his head as if feeling clearer.

"This should make up for it. If you have complaints later, do not sulk about the side dishes — just eat your food well."

Stop. Stop saying such things.

It shouldn't have ended this way, not again.

There had to be a firm resolution.

I said to Ricardo.

"Don't you hate me?"

Ricardo pondered for a moment.

"I don't hate you, except when you complain about the side dishes. As long as you don't set the bell peppers aside on the plate."

"No… Not that."

I said what I was thinking inside.

What Ricardo thought of me, whether he might hate or despise me, I brought that topic up.

"Me…"

My lips wouldn't part.

My lips, trying to speak of that day, were frozen by fear, but I thought this was my only chance.

Knowing too well that I'd be too cowardly to ever ask this fool of a butler again.

With a trembling heart, I spoke.

"Do you not hate me… for what happened to you because of me?"

Ricardo responded clearly.

"I don't hate you at all. It was my own choice."

Tears streamed down.

I thought they would not come anymore, that after crying so long there would be no tears left, but Ricardo's nonchalant reply made me cry again.

"It's all… my fault. If I hadn't liked Michail, you wouldn't have been tormented like this."

My feelings surged.

"I…! If I hadn't stupidly used black magic, you could have lived happily. You could have gone to the Academy and not been a butler; you might have done something else."

The weight of the butler's life, ruined because of an incident caused by me, seemed to press down on my shoulders. It was all because of the person I am. It was my responsibility alone since I could blame no one else and had no excuses to offer.

I couldn't lift my head, burdened by guilt.

"Me…!"

My voice shivered.

I could barely speak through the welled-up emotion.

"I… am really sorry…"

I grabbed Ricardo's arm and buried my face in it.

Worried if just holding it would hurt him. Worried if I was gripping too tightly but feeling like my shaky heart might crumble if I didn't hold onto his arm.

"I'm terribly sorry… every time I see your face, it tears me apart thinking of how much it hurt you…"

If I were you.

I think I would have lived life as if you were an enemy, without even seeing your face.

"You genuinely don't hate me?"

All was contained in these words.

The mistake of ruining Ricardo's life, causing him pain that never should have happened, all was encapsulated in this one question.

"Huuh… I…"

Overwhelmed by emotion, I reached the limit of what I could say.

"I… am genuinely sorry…"

I held Ricardo's arm and cried.

Ricardo hugged me and replied briefly.

"It's okay. Really."

Ricardo spoke softly, patted my back, and said.

"How can you stop a person from loving another person?"

Ricardo lifted my head and pressed on it like a goldfish. Ricardo looked at my squished face and smiled softly.

"Let's end this discussion."

As usual, he finished speaking with a touch of jest.

"You look truly hideous when you cry."

That night, I wept all night long in Ricardo's arms.

***

The next day.

Ricardo changed the wet towel on my burning forehead and said.

"Panda…"

"Don't laugh."

"Your eyes are as swollen as fists."

"Eeek… Don't laugh!!"

I picked up the wet towel from my forehead.