CH 59.1

“Daymond, the northern stars are really pretty. I want to continue living here.”

Her voice still rang clearly in his ears. The voice of the woman he loved so much.

At that time, Anne burrowed deeper into his arms in her sleep. He wondered if she was cold, so he pulled her closer. She rubbed her forehead near his heart.

If I’d been even a little late . . .

He shook his head vigorously, thinking of the worst possible scenario. If he had been even a little late, Anne might have been at the mercy of that insignificant human being.

When he thought so, uncontrollable rage boiled within him. It was terrible just to imagine. Even though he had ended the man’s life, his anger wasn’t soothed.

Robert should stop breathing too . . .

Even if he was only watching, he definitely had a hand in it.

Of course Daymond knew that even if he did as he pleased, he would still be angry. Because he could not undo what had already happened.

Still, he couldn’t just watch her family continue doing this.

I’ll definitely take care of Libelois.

Anne only said that he shouldn’t take the lives of her blood relatives, no one else.

So Daymond gazed at her sleepy face, thinking of pulling out Robert’s tongue and taking his limbs to give him a life that was worse than death. Thinking of cutting off the wrist of her mother, who had whipped her. And to have the venomous Count’s tongue. Having declared that she would cut ties with her family, Anne would never know.

Daymond pulled the robe up to her neck as she moved. Watching her exhale evenly, he hugged her so that she wouldn’t wake up from the cold, silently looking down at her for a long while.

* * *

The next day, the Grand Duke and Anne returned to the Northern Grand Duke’s castle. It was possible because the Grand Duke’s black horse had very strong and fast legs.

The servants of the Grand Duchy, seeing the two of them on horseback, had a commotion. None of the attendants who went with them returned with the Grand Ducal couple.

In addition, Anne’s face was as pale as a sheet of paper, so they were very worried, wondering if something had happened.

As soon as he got off the horse, the Grand Duke carried Anne and walked toward the east wing. Emily and Mrs. Wald approached with confused expressions.

“I will carry her.”

He carefully laid Anne on the bed.

“Don’t think about anything today, just rest.”

He left the room after that, but his voice wasn’t as cold as before. As the bed last night had been uncomfortable, Anne was still asleep.

The Grand Duke quietly closed the door and went straight to the library, making his way to a specific bookshelf.

He pulled out a book on the right side of the bookshelf. Thump! With a clicking sound, the bookshelf that was covering the wall moved sideways with a heavy sound. As the shelf passed by, scratching the floor, a door made of iron appeared where the wall should have been.

As he stepped inside, lights lit up the space. There was nothing on one side of the small, narrow room, but in the center hung a large portrait framed by an ornate golden frame. The woman in the portrait, sitting there with a bright smile, had the same face as Anne.

Before, he had visited the library every day, looking at the portrait of the woman and talking to her. It didn’t matter if it was crazy. While hating and resenting her, he couldn’t endure a day without seeing her face. It was like magic that this shell-like body could barely endure.

“Anne . . .”

The tip of his hand, moving slowly, touched the face of the woman in the portrait.

“Has this life been painful?”

Daymond, muttering something unknown, stroked the portrait with his hand.

His heart, which had been quiet until now, was beating strangely. The pale face, which had been weeping sadly, flickered like an afterimage. The face with the soft cheeks wet with watery drops of water was embedded in his head.

Daymond found out that Anne had a harder life than she thought. In addition to the beatings and insults she had suffered since she was a child, seeing her family thoroughly deceiving her and even planning to kidnap her to get her pregnant, he could hardly imagine bullying her like before.

Am I feeling that it’s pitiful . . .

Pity. That was what he felt now. He was feeling empathy for a woman.

It wasn’t once or twice that he abused her, as if to vent his anger on the her who didn’t remember anything. Looking back on it, he did the same thing as her family to her.