Chapter 69. Louise Pelliese’s Ability

2023.12.08.

It was a cowardly act.

Even though he had heard through rumors that the woman struggled with sharing a bed with him.

Clutching onto the woman’s words that she did it because she liked it, convincing himself there was no need to turn back his footsteps since she claimed it was fine.

He could have simply called her during the day and asked if anything hurt.

Then why did he wait for sunset, why did he listen for the sound of her footsteps?

It was just another ordinary day among many.

So why did he feel so restless and anxious?

***

After the horrifying debutante ball.

Regina Pelliese secluded herself within the mansion, refusing to leave or receive visitors.

Unaware of the reason, the Count and Countess Pelliese dismissed it as their daughter’s whim and left her be.

In truth, the couple was far too busy to pay much attention to Regina.

Priscilla, who had no friends in high society due to her background, blissfully unaware of any terrible rumors, was busy spreading tales at her family’s merchant house, Felte Trading, about Regina possibly becoming a royal consort. Meanwhile, Count Pelliese…

“Come, come! Hurry over here!”

“What now? Where on earth are we supposed to put such large furniture?”

“Oh, isn’t Frederic’s room vacant right now?”

“Did Frederic graduate at the top of his class or something? What’s with this gold-plated wardrobe?”

“It’s for Yuan.”

“…What did you say?”

The Countess Priscilla, who had always assumed these precious items were naturally hers, stared at her husband with the expression of someone who had just been slapped across the face.

“Did I just hear you wrong?”

“Your reaction tells me you heard correctly.”

“Say something reasonable!”

Priscilla screamed, her voice so loud and forceful it seemed to erupt from deep within her stomach.

The Count flinched in shock at the outburst.

“You’re telling me that this console inlaid with fine mother-of-pearl and that wardrobe with golden handles belongs to Yuan Pelliese—that crow girl? You’re clearing out our son’s room just to make space for her things, for a girl who doesn’t even live here?!”

“It’s all being paid for with money Yuan earned anyway. Stop making such a fuss.”

“W-what… what did you say?”

Priscilla rushed breathlessly to the room where the treasures sent by the retired Emperor were stored.

She flung open the half-open door, only to find the once overflowing stacks of gold noticeably diminished.

Priscilla turned as pale as if she had woken up to find herself an old hag.

“I am the mistress of this household! That money is mine to manage and control! Who gave anyone the right to spend it? Who?! I’ve been trembling every time I used even a single gold bar, saving everything for our Regina and Frederic’s weddings!!”

She jabbed an accusing finger toward her husband, who was calmly directing the endless stream of incoming goods.

Eight of her ten fingers—excluding only her thumb—were crammed with rings, glinting under the chandelier light and stabbing at the Count’s eyes.

“Worry about that later. Take off those rings and talk, Priscilla.”

“What are you talking about?”

Just as another fierce battle seemed about to erupt between the couple, Regina’s hoarse voice slipped into the tense air.

“Yuan Pelliese? That traitor is coming back to our house? Frederic’s room? You wouldn’t even switch my room with my brother’s when I asked, but now you’re making room for her?”

“That’s right, that’s right! Regina, you’re speaking my mind! My daughter indeed! That’s exactly what I wanted to say!”

Encouraged by Priscilla, Regina snatched a jewelry box from a maid who was busy arranging items and smiled.

“This is the jewelry box I asked Father for on my last birthday. That drawer over there was the one Mother wanted. You ignored every word we said, yet you bring in things like this for a married-off crow? Why? Did that monstrous retired Emperor promise her a territory this time?”

“Yuan will return to the place she rightfully belongs. Don’t argue with your father—just focus on preparing for your marriage. Weren’t you utterly humiliated at the debutante ball? I heard about it today outside, and I was so ashamed and embarrassed I couldn’t hold my head up. Write a letter to Dreykub Treloni immediately! I’ll have to grab that bastard by the hem of his pants if we’re to marry you off somewhere decent!”

Leaving only those words behind, the Count headed toward Yuan’s bedroom—a room currently empty of Yuan.

Regina, who had spent days locked away sobbing, felt her head spin and staggered slightly.

“Wait, who was humiliated exactly? Who? How dare anyone say such a thing about our Regina, who might one day become a royal consort, just because she made one mistake?”

Enraged, Priscilla stormed after the Count. Regina’s heart pounded uncontrollably.

‘That crow returning to the mansion? On whose authority? The crow gets welcomed back with open arms while I’m supposed to marry off to that horse-headed fool and just accept it?’

After the disastrous debutante ball.

Regina had abruptly and unilaterally cut off all contact with Dreykub Treloni.

Not a single daughter from the prominent families present—nor even those few who had previously shown her kindness—sent so much as a word of comfort.

As if they found Regina’s downfall deliciously amusing.

As if they were dying of laughter at the fall of the girl who should have been shining the brightest in this nation!

Glancing around with irritated eyes, Regina spotted a man watching her family’s quarrel from the second-floor landing with apparent amusement.

He was the dirtiest, most unkempt of her father’s frequent visitors.

“Hey!”

Cornered and desperate, Regina grabbed the man who was about to enter her father’s study, fearlessly.

The short but sturdy man bared his filthy teeth in a mock display of politeness.

“What is it, miss?”

Without a word, Regina handed him the jewelry box she had just snatched.

“Let’s make a deal.”

Kiyotel, the secret agent, gripped the jewelry box and grinned widely.

***

Yuan arrived early in the morning at the Marquis Rev’s estate, reaching the site of Louise’s tombstone.

The frequency of nosebleeds and vomiting blood had increased day by day, forcing her to minimize her time at the mansion.

She felt somewhat better by evening, but the mornings and dawns following the absorption of Clade’s pain were especially severe.

As if his suffering only intensified her illness.

The Marquis’s cemetery was vast and spacious—perfect for secretly expelling her pain.

The servants never followed her into the cemetery, and the guards stationed there remained only at the entrance.

After finally managing to stop the relentless nosebleed that followed her pain release, Yuan turned her head at the sensation of someone nearby.

“…Regina?”

Regina had just tossed a bouquet of chrysanthemums aside and was striding toward her.

“You damn bat! I told Father to return any stolen family items you took! What kind of talk is that? Just because your husband nearly died, does that mean you don’t belong there anymore? Why are you screaming to come back to a place where no one welcomes you? Screaming like a madwoman!!”

She raged so fiercely it seemed as if she were chasing down someone who had stolen her entire fortune and fled.

Yuan looked Regina over with weary eyes.

The lively, radiant appearance she had seen at the palace was long gone. Regina’s face was sallow, her eyes sharp and unnervingly wide.

Only then did Yuan recall that Regina had completely ruined her long-anticipated palace debutante ball.

She could also guess what her uncle had said at home to make Regina so furious.

Perhaps he had declared that Yuan would return home regardless of her opinion, or sternly warned them never to mistreat Yuan again.

“I can roughly guess the situation. What do you want from me? Following me all the way to someone else’s family cemetery.”

But Yuan had no reason to indulge Regina’s hysteria.

Her uncle was spouting nonsense, and Regina was venting her misplaced anger—both were all too familiar and utterly exhausting to her.

“Just try coming back to our house! Try returning to the mansion!”

“…”

“And I’m warning you—stay away from Crown Prince Bollonico.”

Regina’s eyes flared as she recalled Bollonico, who had come to the party hall entrance on the night of the worst debutante ball to personally welcome Yuan.

Yuan had neither intention of returning to the Pelliese mansion nor of pursuing Crown Prince Bollonico, but she had no desire to obediently agree to Regina’s demands.

There was absolutely no reason for her to respond so meekly.

A faint, bitter smile escaped Yuan’s lips.

Such absurd demands, heard while facing life and death, only made her already sharp nerves even more sensitive.

Yet Regina seemed serious. She repeated her words, bit her lips tightly, rummaged through her clothes, and pulled out several folded notes, waving them in the air.

“If you listen to me, I’ll give you these.”

“What are they?”

She wasn’t curious, but she asked anyway.

“The messages—carrier pigeon letters—Louise Pelliese sent you during this time.”

***

Of course.

Who was Louise Pelliese, if not someone who would find a way to reach out?

There was no way she wouldn’t have tried to contact her.

Yuan was startled, nearly reaching out instinctively toward the notes Regina was waving.

A tense silence followed.

Yuan found it ridiculous that Regina acted as if she were conducting some grand negotiation, but she decided to hear her out.

“So you intercepted them. Shamelessly.”

“Intercepted? Why shouldn’t I keep carrier pigeons that flew into my house? Are you the only sister? Louise is my sister too.”

Regina replied brazenly.

Yuan silently extended her hand.

She was all too familiar with Regina’s stubbornness, with her claim that everything in the Pelliese mansion belonged to her.

More than familiar.

This was exactly the kind of thing Regina Pelliese would do.

“Give them.”

“I can’t just hand them over.”

“Then?”

“Promise me—you won’t return to the Pelliese mansion.”

“I won’t return.”

“Verbal promises don’t count. Sign here.”

Regina pulled out a paper resembling a contract from her bag. As Yuan skimmed the document titled “Statement,” she realized it forbade her from doing nearly everything.

To someone standing at the brink of death, it was nothing but a worthless scrap of paper.

“And promise you won’t pursue Crown Prince Bollonico. Sign it too.”

“Ha. Bollonico?”

Just thinking of Bollonico still made her teeth grind. Yuan clenched her jaw, struggling to hide her resentment.

Everything Regina demanded was already what Yuan wanted—this was no losing deal.

“Fine.”

“That’s not all. If you break this agreement, you’ll never get your sister’s letters back! This isn’t everything! I just grabbed whatever I could find in the box—this is only a fraction.”

“So you do know these belong to someone else—should be returned.”

“What?”

“Keep the rest. While I still haven’t changed my mind.”

Now she understood—Louise hadn’t abandoned her. Regina had intercepted all the carrier pigeons and blocked the messages.

Yuan swiftly took the notes from Regina’s hand, almost snatching them, as Regina trembled under the eerie aura of someone facing death.

Only four notes.

But they were her chance—before she died—to glimpse even a fragment of Louise’s words.

Fearing Yuan might say something else, Regina hastily grabbed the signed statement and fled.

Yuan stood motionless, staring for a long time at Regina’s retreating back with an expressionless face.

***

“Madam. We’ve arrived. It took longer than expected; the master must have been quite worried.”

In response to Mazaring’s concerned words, Yuan silently nodded without speaking.

Her chest felt queasy—she couldn’t bring herself to open Louise’s notes immediately.

If Louise, who had come to die in her place, had written even a single word of blame in those brief messages, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Yuan hesitated—should she preserve only the thought that her sister had tried to reach her, or should she unfold the notes and finally listen to her deceased sister’s words?

She quietly dismissed Mazaring with a promise to leave the carriage soon, then unfolded the crumpled notes inside the silent carriage.

She poured water from a flask, soaked the paper, and rubbed the surface with her finger.

The friendly messages—asking if she was well, why she hadn’t replied—faded away, revealing red ink beneath.

It was the method her sister used to leave secret notes, hidden from relatives.

【Yuan. I have the ability to transfer my pain to others.】

Yuan’s hand began to tremble faintly.