Chapter 34

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: No Mercy 34

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"People backed into a corner turn filthy and vile. No need to see that sort of thing. Above all, patients need rest."

"But..."

"Harmonia is the goddess of night and also the mother of pain. Leave this to me."

For some reason, Aden's quiet smile suddenly seemed laced with thick killing intent.

The candlelight seeped into Aden's raised eyes, dyeing his golden gaze the hue of a blood-red sunset.

Aden offered a quiet smile before turning away.

"See you later, Sierra."

Aden's gentle farewell lingered, soothing the silence in the room, before slowly fading away.

"Take down that painting. Father says he's sick of looking at it after all this time. Hang up the one we got at the last auction instead. On a gloomy day like this, something bright and sunny would look better than another depressing picture."

The servants bustled about in the entry hall on the first floor of the Bozbon Duke's mansion.

Hands carrying intact vases, paintings, and various artworks moved with the utmost care, as if handling newborn infants.

They were more cautious than ever, knowing that breaking even one piece would saddle them with a debt they'd spend a lifetime repaying.

"Lady Bellieta."

The butler approached Bellieta, who was directing the busy servants and tidying up the entry hall.

Bellieta rolled her eyes, and the butler murmured softly.

"She's returned."

"Is that so?"

Bellieta's listless face suddenly lit up with energy. She handed off the remaining tasks to the butler and turned away.

As she returned to her room, leaving the servants behind, she spotted Piolett standing there blankly.

Bellieta ignored Piolett's bow and sat in a chair, propping her chin on her hand.

"You must be tired, Piolett. It was hot and humid, and quite a long trip."

"I'm fine."

As always, Bellieta stared quietly at Piolett's impassive face before rolling her eyes again.

Richel, who should have been trailing behind her, was nowhere to be seen.

Bellieta narrowed her eyes and peered behind Piolett before looking up.

Piolett obliquely avoided Bellieta's gaze, staring down at the floor.

"Piolett."

"Yes, milady."

"I told you, I hate it when people don't look me in the eye during a conversation. I've said it so many times, so why do you keep doing it? Do you think I'm a joke?"

Bellieta rose and stepped toward Piolett.

Her eye level met straight on with the rather tall Piolett's.

Piolett's eyes, always calm and confident, trembled with unease at Bellieta's words.

She repeatedly raised and lowered her gaze, then bit her lip.

"...I'm sorry. I'm still not used to it."

Hmm.

Bellieta let out a small hum through her nose and followed Piolett's downward gaze.

Where was she looking?

On the empty floor lay only a pair of light-colored shoes and a pair of sturdy boots.

What to do?

I don't like her defying me, but punishing a loyal pet who came straight back to report after a long journey feels a bit petty.

Bellieta stared at the evasive Piolett before smiling quietly.

Piolett flinched, her shoulders trembling as she rolled her eyes.

She took two steps back, and Bellieta smoothly crossed her arms.

"So. Your report?"

"...It was a failure."

"That's it?"

"Our original plans fell apart, so we couldn't proceed. I had to pull back the knights we planned to enter in the tournament, watched only the finals, and hurried back."

"And?"

Bellieta nodded her chin and returned to her seat.

Piolett, unsure where to look, fixed her gaze on the tip of Bellieta's casually crossed-leg shoe.

There, she recounted in detail the events that transpired, the plans derailed by Richel's actions.

Piolett paused for a moment but quickly continued.

"...And Richel bore a grudge over it and tried to kill me."

"Oh? How surprising."

Bellieta showed no surprise whatsoever, tapping her forearm with her fingers.

In the silence, she savored the quiet calm before suddenly moving and slapping Piolett across the cheek.

With a sharp smack, Piolett's turned cheek flushed red.

Stunned by the sudden blow, Piolett blankly stared at Bellieta.

The composed expression from moments ago was gone.

Only a face brimming with icy displeasure remained.

"Do you have any idea how much money and effort I poured into this? And you botch it this badly?"

"I-I'm sor..."

"Whether you nearly died to Richel or not has nothing to do with me. What pisses me off is Sierra gloating that she beat me."

Her leisurely demeanor had vanished.

She'd lost to Sierra.

That single fact filled Bellieta's mind with disgust.

She glared coldly at Piolett, then let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

She sat back in her chair, silent as if nothing had happened.

Piolett, slapped by Bellieta, felt relief outweighing the pain in her cheek or her bewilderment.

She'd reported most things but hidden one.

The part where Sierra helped her barely survive.

She'd deliberately omitted it, knowing anything involving Sierra would rile Bellieta's sensitive nature.

What if Bellieta found out about this too?

Piolett's fingertips trembled faintly in fear.

She, who never lost her composure in any situation, couldn't maintain it before Bellieta.

As the silence dragged on, sweat trickled down Piolett's back.

Her pupils shook violently, as if cracked, and her forcibly swallowed breaths came ragged.

Her clenched fists grew slick with sweat.

'You're Viscount Baylor's daughter? Nice to meet you. I'm Bellieta, your future owner.'

'Can't even do the homework I assigned properly? Because of your sloppy work, I lost to Sierra today. You know I hate losing most of all. What should I do? What punishment this time.'

'Pathetic. No improvement at all. That's why you'll always be just my pet. Oh, what's with those eyes? Unhappy? Pride hurt? Don't think like that. It's not just you—your father, grandfather, his grandfather before him, all Bozbon pets.'

'Daring to defy me. Looks like a harsh punishment today. Stay in this room for a while. No water, no food, endure two days. I'll let you out after. If it happens again, four days next time. Remember that. Bye, Piolett.'

Piolett, Piolett... Piolett...

"Piolett."

Lost in terrified memories, Piolett snapped to at the voice calling her.

Bellieta, looking at her with surprised eyes, smiled thinly and lifted her chin.

"What were you thinking? I called you several times."

"I'm... sorry. I'm just tired..."

"Tired..."

Piolett muttered her lame excuse, realizing her mistake and hurriedly opening her mouth, but Bellieta spoke first.

"I see. You must be exhausted. Go rest."

"...Pardon?"

"It's fine. Go soak in a bath and get some proper rest. And don't worry about Genoa. I wasn't expecting much anyway."

Bellieta assumed Piolett would bow her head in gratitude for her leniency.

But seeing her frozen, she tilted her head.

"What's wrong? Should I punish you like old times?"

"N-no, that's not it..."

Piolett floundered, waving her hands in frantic denial.

Only then did Bellieta smile, satisfied.

Her hand moved slowly, flipping through the report on the desk.

Her narrowed eyes scanned the scattering pages as her lips parted slowly.

"I figured Richel would mess up somehow, whatever happened. It could ruin things or turn out fine. Fifty-fifty chance, but it went south, so I can't blame you for it. Shame Richel defected, but I didn't order it specifically, so no need to worry. Go rest. Got it?"

Piolett bit her lip and nodded at Bellieta's smiling reassurance.

Her trembling hands stilled, legs steadied, and she bowed before turning hurriedly.

Bellieta watched Piolett's retreating back with an unreadable gaze as she left at neither a slow nor hurried pace, then smirked.

"Piolett."

"Yes?"

Piolett froze and turned slowly.

Bellieta leaned back languidly, facing her.

"Did you thank Sierra?"

"..."

"She saved your life. You should at least say thanks. Do it next time you see her. Understood?"

Go on.

A dismissive wave signaled the end of the conversation.

The candlelight flickering on her trembling hand looked perilously unsteady.

"...I'll do that, Lady."

Laughter trailed after Piolett's back.

It was the shackle that devoured her and wouldn't let go.

An intangible shackle.

A shackle she couldn't rebel against.

It was fear branded by pain.