The Villainess was Loved

Chapter Thirty-Two: Father’s and Daughters II

Nine Years Ago

“Hi, my name is Edward.” The maquis first said when we met.

It was a day filled with snow and the bitterness that so often followed the poor.

I was in my mother’s jacket, trimmed down to fit me, but still, hand-me-downs held their own distinctive looks.

The Marquis squatted before me, his eyes a beautifully broken shade of blue surrounded by the crimson of tear-tired eyes.

“I will…I will be the one to protect you from now on.” He offered; still, I held tightly to my mother’s skirt.

She let out a cough then gave me a weary smile, the same smile she often gave when a particularly nauseating customer arrived.

I shouldn’t go with the Marquis…I know this…

But mother will not make it past the winter.

Even now, her fever still sang; who knows how long the landlord would keep his word in not accepting customers.

“Go on, lovely…” her voice broke.

It no longer had the strength it did in the summer when I first inherited this starved body.

 But her smile overweighed my own reservations.

Gods, but being a kid is ridiculous.

…it is, however, worse knowing that I was her weakness in a world that needed her to break.

The marquis stretched his hand, and I took a deep breath.

Should I hug him or act viciously?

No, I need him to love me. I don’t want to die.

“Hewwo?”

The face of the man before me stilled for a moment too long.

Have I uttered the wrong words?

Should I have enunciated the words in a dignifying manner?

Tears streamed his face seconds later, stilling me in my steps.

“My lord, are you okay?” my mother bent down to the shell of a man, but his wails did not die down.

“Yes, yes, Calanthe, I am okay!” he said as he hid his face.

Not many men can claim to have shed tears before the women they professed their love to.

“Thank you.” The Marquis said to me, “Thank you, I will be a good father. I promise, I will.”

My heart melted. I knew, without a doubt, that he did not lie.

So I embraced him…not as a child who wished to survive the poorly construed plot but as one who longed to, for the first time in her life, experience the warmth of a loving family.

*

*

*

The sun was setting now, still at most a day until we reached the manor, yet still, the carriage did not stop or still at the bumps.

We would perhaps power through the trips.

Many would say breakups are complicated, but there are devastating if the subject of the break-up was family.

“Denounce you?”

He spat after what felt like an hour of silence.

“Me, denounce you?”

“Yes.”

“before the Emperor and the church, I swore to be your guardian. Are you calling me a liar?”

“A liar? You would have me wed men triple my age at the first sign of hardship.”

His hand moved fast and loud against my cheek.

“I raised you poorly. How dare you! How dare you behave like a manic then lay the blame on me? Have you not embarrassed me enough?”

The familiar metallic taste of blood hung ripe in my mouth.

“How dare you? After I picked you from the streets, gave you a home and proper education, how dare you!!”

Tears stung my eyes, not because his slap or his following abuses hurt.

But because…I completely missed this side of him.

This was the man I expected to halt my execution. The man I expected to defy the crown in my name. Out of all of them, the only one that I expected to care for me.

Gods but, how rosey were the lenses dressing my eyes?

He raised his cane once more, and with the curved handle, he slammed it hard against my shoulder, then again and again.

I could stop him.

He is a feeble man with little mana.

But for some reason, I kept my hand plastered to my chest as though that weak act was what would keep my heart from wholly breaking.

*

In the end, my suggestion had upset the Marquis so much so that he kicked me out of the main carriage and ordered that my hands be tied to the horse of some knight in the back.

I was to walk the remaining distance to the mansion...on foot.

My eyes were dried, puffy and crusty, but my mind was surprisingly clear.

“I told you not to talk back to the Marquis.”

Castile, who intentionally slowed his horse, said.

The soles on my shoes were near worn out. I could practically feel the unevenness of the road.

I met Sir Castile’s gaze then turned to the knight I was bound to.

“Hey, is there a partition or something in this ride? The privacy setting is kinda… one-star material?”

The knight ignored my wonderful sense of humour, much as he ignored my request for water, but Castile rolled his eyes, so in some weird way, my joke landed.

“Hop on.”

Castile offered.

“On…as in on your horse or lap? If it is the latter-,”

“Gods, Milady, I mean horse!”

“Hmm… I was about to say that I prefer the latter.” I drawled, then shook my head. “I’m fine.”

The knight I was attached to sighed as though he wished to maintain favour in the eyes of the Marquis by having me behave obediently to his order.

“Aren’t you tired? It’s been quite a distance since you-,”

“Do you think I do not know you work under the Marquis’s orders? Do you think I have no notion of how he thinks?”

“My lady, if you know that, then why not accept his remorse?”

“If I accept his remorse, I accept everything that comes with it. I will walk till we reach his manor, even if my legs give way and I wind up dragged by the horses to our destination.”

Castile clicked his tongue then sped to the Marquis’s carriage, most definitely to replay my message.

“Hey, do you have any music on this horse?”

I turned my attention to the knight I was bound to.

*

I walked at least eighteen kilometres more before my feet started bleeding, but only a few meters after that, until Castile hit me in the back of my head.

When I came to, I was in my room.

“Son of a b***h!”

I cursed into the darkness as I tried to move my legs but to no avail.

My legs were bandaged neatly, a telltale sign that a physician visited my room, but despite that, I could not plant my feet on the floor to walk.

This must be how the tortured enslaved people feel.

It had to be early morning, like so early that you could only hear one species of bird singing.

I should heal my legs… but if my injuries disappear too suddenly, the Marquis will increase his caution towards me.

“What the hell is next?”

I sighed audibly, then gazed at my desk, where seven folders sat.

“Why the hell are they so far?”

I crawled to the edge of my bed, then pressed my hand against the bedpost.

A thin elastic branch emerged from the grazed spot that dashed directly to the folders, secured, and moved them to my bed before I waved my hand to dismiss the mana that controlled it.

In its spot, the elastic branch withered then turned to ash.

 “Baron Kingelsy, Victor L-,” I sighed, “Are these all just more marriage candidates? Is he high?”

A small note fell from the first two folders.

‘You are currently under house arrest; by my orders, you are to remain bound in your room unless otherwise communicated.

Your meeting with Viscount Foyle is scheduled in the afternoon, and a mandatory dinner with the family is set for fifteen minutes to seven p.m.

I expect you to behave accordingly for even a prayer of freedom in these coming days.’