Chapter 47

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: No Mercy 47

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“Let me say it one more time. I appreciate the marquis's proposal and your kind intentions, but I cannot accept. So please understand.”

I tossed out those words, hoping that would be the end of it.

Reiton looked as if he'd just heard the word "rejection" for the first time in his life, his face frozen in shock.

If you're going to be shocked, do it outside, why don't you? I didn't want to see that expression.

To snap the unresponsive Reiton out of it, I headed toward the door.

“Riphert Knight. Please escort the marquis to the main gate courteously...”

“Brilloxen Lady!”

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, a voice called from behind, and I had the illusion that a shadow had fallen over me.

Turning around, I saw Reiton reaching out toward me with a terrifying expression.

For a split second, I thought he was about to strike me, furrowing my brow in that instant—when my body was suddenly yanked backward.

My stumbling form, as if I were about to fall, came to an abrupt halt as if hitting a wall.

A familiar, refreshing cologne scent.

The cool fabric brushing against my exposed skin, and the voice whispering near my ear.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Turning my head, there stood my father, Ludwin Brilloxen, his expression hardened while concealing a subtle anger.

Stunned by his unexpected appearance, I froze. He glanced at me briefly before stepping inside and closing the door.

He seemed aware of the numerous servants and retainers lined up behind him.

After entering and releasing me, Father met my eyes.

Those deep maroon eyes, just like mine, were right in front of me.

It had been so long since I'd seen these eyes that I couldn't even recall when.

My surprise was fleeting; overwhelmed by surging emotions, I bit my lip.

In my past life, it had been nearly ten years since I'd seen Father, but here it had only been two or three months.

I couldn't cry like a child.

Composing myself and swallowing hard, Father's voice came down.

“You've grown pale.”

“Is... that so? Maybe because it's hot and I haven't been eating well.”

I forced a smile.

Crying in a situation like this might make him misunderstand that I was scared.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Father nodded.

He stroked my head once before turning to face Reiton.

Reiton, equally surprised, stood there awkwardly with a troubled expression.

“It's been a while, Bladia Marquis.”

“...It's been since the imperial event earlier this year. I heard you were away briefly—did everything go well, Brilloxen Count?”

Father gave a short laugh and nodded before falling silent again.

As soon as Father closed his mouth, a natural quiet settled in.

The silence was heavier than expected, and Reiton was the most uneasy in it.

Truthfully, I didn't know exactly what Reiton had been about to do.

He might have just been trying to grab my shoulder or my hand.

He surely wouldn't have hit me in that situation; at worst, that was it.

It wasn't anything truly malicious.

But what mattered was that Father had opened the door at that moment, making Reiton feel like a criminal caught red-handed.

If it had been anyone else instead of Reiton, I might have helped, but since there was no need, I stuck close to Father and watched the situation unfold.

Father kept his mouth shut for quite a while, saying nothing.

Even as Reiton furtively glanced around with an awkward smile or fidgeted with his sleeve, Father stood silently.

The prolonged silence finally wore Reiton down, and he gave a small sigh before opening his mouth.

“Count...”

“I should offer you proper hospitality, but as you can see, I've just returned after so long and things are chaotic. Besides, Flora is exhausted and lying down. I should go to her. Sierra.”

At Father's brief call of my name, I lifted my head.

He gave me a plain smile before turning his gaze to Reiton.

“Next time, I'll prepare even more thoughtfully, so I look forward to your visit, Bladia Marquis.”

“Y-yes, of course.”

Unlike what Reiton had expected—Father flying into a rage—Father continued in a calm, composed tone, so Reiton sighed in relief and nodded.

“Well then, Lady Sierra. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Reiton didn't even wait for my response before turning to leave.

As he opened the closed door and hurried to exit the room, Father's voice rang out as he gazed straight ahead.

“Bladia Marquis.”

“...Yes, speak.”

Reiton froze mid-step and glanced back slightly.

Father withdrew his forward gaze and turned his body.

The corners of Father's mouth curved up softly.

“Next time, I'd prefer to meet you in my office, not Sierra's.”

“...”

But unlike his mouth, his eyes weren't smiling.

They were not just stern—they were icy cold.

Reiton swallowed hard and nodded.

“Until next time, Count.”

Leaving his final greeting, Reiton hurried out of the room as if afraid of being stopped again.

“Hoo...”

As the door closed, a long sigh escaped Father's lips.

He ran a hand through his bangs and grimaced.

“Seeing something so unpleasant right upon arrival is turning my stomach.”

It was a phrase I could hear if I closed my eyes—the grumbling Father always let out.

That voice, still fresh in my memory, now echoed in my ears, stirring strange emotions that made my legs move on their own.

“Father.”

I hugged him just like that, as he stood with hands on his hips, brushing back his hair.

Since I was never one for affection, his surprised exclamation burst out at my sudden action.

But I was too overjoyed at the sight of Father before me now—like a dream—to notice.

“You've had a hard journey. I'm so glad you returned safely.”

A wave of guilt washed over me.

Self-reproach for failing to protect Mother and Father.

Regret for not shielding them from Bellieta.

The resentment of being toyed with even in death, with my corpse and ashes.

And the spoiled desire I couldn't suppress to see him.

“...Sierra?”

His flustered voice came from above my head, but only for a moment.

I squeezed my eyes shut at the warm hands gently enveloping my back and shoulders.

I wanted to savor this moment fully, forgetting for a bit that Father might misunderstand.

Reiton, boarding the massive, ornate carriage, was extremely flustered.

Unlike when he'd alighted, his hurried steps aroused curiosity among the servants.

The young butler, who had been giving orders to the servants outside, tilted his head watching Reiton depart in haste.

“What happened?”

The servants shared the butler's thoughts, gazing until the carriage vanished before turning away.

Inside the carriage, Reiton pressed his pounding heart with his hand and let out a deep breath.

As the carriage left the count's estate and distanced itself, Reiton regained his composure, leaning his head and back against the carriage wall and closing his eyes.

The rhythmic noise and sway of the carriage calmed his excitement.

Then, the shame of fleeing the mansion like a fugitive washed over him.

“Damn it...”

With his eyes closed, in the black void, he seemed to see those deep maroon eyes gazing at him with a reddish glint.

Contemptuous stares and dismissive glances echoed in his ears.

For Reiton, who had lived his life as a great noble, this was an insult hard to bear.

For a backwater money-grubber like Brilloxen to treat him so shabbily.

It was unthinkable.

When he should have been received with utmost courtesy, he'd been the one to extend his hand first—only to be chased out.

Reiton had lived a life unfamiliar with rejection.

Everyone welcomed his attention, especially women who scrambled to be near his touch.

As Reiton recalled, Sierra hadn't been much different.

He'd caught her stealing clumsy, awkward glances at him more than once or twice, which had amused him.

Moreover, with Bellieta always by his side, Sierra had stood out even more.

So he'd thought he could easily win her over this time as well.

But Sierra had cut him off with ruthless coldness, and in his panic, he'd made a mistake.

As a result, he'd been forced to leave like an unwelcome guest.

“This won't do. A mere count's lady, not even a duke's daughter, daring to...”

Except for Bellieta, all women were the same to Reiton.

Every effort he'd made to build his reputation, gain popularity, refine his appearance, and prove his abilities was for Bellieta.

No—more precisely, to leverage the Bozbon family.

In the end, others were mere tools or means to achieve his goals.

Means to obtain a ducal title.

That was all.

'Ask Sierra first. If Sierra says it's okay, then I'll go with you.'

Recalling Bellieta haughtily refusing his outstretched hand, Reiton's lips twisted.

“Both Brilloxen and Bozbon. They all think so little of me. Fine then. I'll show them—they can't reject me so easily.”

Reiton's eyes hardened coldly.

“What happened? I heard you were coming back tomorrow.”

“Flora felt sorry for leaving the mansion solely in your care and urged me to hurry back, so we departed a day early.”

I moved with Father to the room where Mother was resting, chatting along the way.

The long-overdue conversation had me unusually excited, my mouth running nonstop.

Father watched his suddenly chatty daughter with surprised eyes but smiled, clearly not displeased.

“How's Mother? Is she feeling a bit better?”

“She's improved a lot, but we didn't gain much from this trip either.”

“I see...”