Dehart grabbed at Lash’s hand as he demanded an answer. As the grip tightened, Lash licked his lips.

 

“… Dehart, I was just saying it out of concern for you.”

 

I know that there is some truth to this as Uncle was the one who raised me instead of my own parents, Dehart thought to himself, However—

 

Dehart then looked his Uncle in the eyes.

 

Unable to bear the silence, Lash continued, “So, you need not worry about anything else. Just focus on returning safely.”

 

“… Yes,” Dehart replied brusquely.

​

Just that short reply silenced Lash from saying anything else. There was just something frightful in the manner Dehart had conversed with him and there was obvious anger in the young man’s eyes.

 

As a result, Lash just stood silently and watched Dehart walk out of the greenhouse. Not so far away, the butler who had been observing the whole conversation, approached from somewhere behind Lash

 

“Sir.”

 

“I want you to send this letter by post for me,” Lash said as he passed the letter without even glancing at the butler.

 

The letter was unmarked and void of any information of the sender. It was prepared by his wife, Gren, and would soon prove to be decisive for the future of Inverness Duchy.

 

Nephew, if you are not willing to do it, then we shall take over.

 

With that, Lash turned away from the main entrance of the greenhouse where Dehart had entered a waiting carriage. 

 

There was a firm resolution in Lash’s eyes.

 

***

 

The setting Sun rays shone through the new curtain that was changed by Sebelia’s attendant, Denise. The mostly empty and once dark room was bathed in reddish- orange sunlight.

 

Upon hearing the trotting sound of horse hooves, Sebelia peered through the curtains and watched as the Dehart’s carriage left the estate. Then almost immediately, Sebelia returned to her seat and looked down at her pale hands.

 

Although her hands were somewhat pretty and delicate looking, they could not do anything. Sebelia had hands that were unworthy of holding the hands of another person. Moreover, it was unimaginable to pick even the smallest of flowers with her hands.

 

That is the reality of my situation, Sebelia thought to herself.

 

Sebelia smiled bitterly as she clasped her hands together.

 

He actually left... He has never once stood by me nor gave me a chance… Not even at the very end…

 

Swept away at her hair that hung loosely over her shoulders, Sebelia then recalled what Denise had whispered earlier.

 

[Milady has the ability to cast illusions.]

 

Sebelia had momentarily stopped breathing at Denise’s whispered words as forgotten memories played vividly in her mind.

 

To be exact, they were memories of her father’s constant violence. 

 

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[In the past, the Marquis, her father, was always angry with her.]

 

Her ‘friends’ who twinkled filled the quiet, empty room. Although afraid of the night, Sebelia had always become less nervous whenever she saw beautiful blue and red birds of intricate patterns.  

 

[It’s probably a skill you had inherited from your mother.]

 

Sebelia had nodded her head in agreement.

 

Otherwise, Father would not have tried so hard to erase my ability, Sebelia thought to herself. 

 

[You possess these powers from the Devil.]

 

Sebelia’s father had always said that before either locking her up in a closet or tying her up to a tree.

 

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I guess that too much time has passed since then. I no longer remember how I did it, Sebelia thought to herself as she opened and closed her hand, hoping to will her powers to manifest.

 

Then again, it just sort of happened in the past. I didn’t know how I was even doing it back then…

 

Please… I have to get out of this house… I need this power.

 

Squeezing her eyes shut and clasping her hands together, Sebelia began to pray—whether it was to a goddess or another entity or just to herself, she had no idea.

 

“Ah.”

 

After a while, Sebelia started to feel dizzy and the warmth being pulled from her body. She immediately looked at her opened palms and saw a small bird flapping its wings in the center of her left hand.  

 

It was undoubtedly her ability to create illusions.

 

“Thank goodness,” Sebelia said out loud.

 

Sebelia just watched mesmerised as the bird fluttered its wings and took flight. 

 

​

Chirp—

 

​

The small blue feathered bird called out. Although the bird was relatively very small considering the amount of energy it took to create it, Sebelia was nonetheless filled with joy.

 

As far as she was concerned, Sebelia had succeeded.

 

This was an opportunity for her.

 

The one and only opportunity for her to completely disappear.

 

With this power, I shall create an illusion of my dead self and leave this place.

 

Now, Sebelia would be able to fake her death with an illusion. As Denise had said earlier, Sebelia needed a plan if she were to run away. Even if her own husband would not bother, there was still a possibility that the Weddons would chase after her. 

 

However, if I were to actually ‘die’, it would be a totally different story, Sebelia mused.

 

I will create an illusion of myself and the people at the funeral will see my dead body. That way, even if they were to pass me on the street later on, they would not believe it is indeed me—simply because they had witnessed my funeral.

 

A smile played on Sebelia’s lips upon that thought.

 

The only thing is that since funerals are usually held for three days, I will have to endure the strain and maintain the illusion for the whole time. This evening was the first time I’ve managed to create a blue feathered bird purely by intention. 

 

Is this because of my will to live or just a driving force to do so? Hah… Either way, it is funny that I feel this way when I haven’t have long to live…

 

Sebelia stayed in the room for a long time after, forgetting to eat as she focused solely on practising her powers. No servant or attendant knocked at her door that night. No one had checked in on Sebelia—not a single soul.

 

… Then again, that in itself was not an odd thing to begin with.

 

***

 

Dehart, who had been closing his eyes during the ride in the carriage, was abruptly in a coughing fit.

 

“Damn it.”

 

He felt a deep throbbing pain in his head. It was as if his very skull was tightening and shrinking. At the same time, his limbs were suddenly numb and his heart was beating at an erratic rate.

 

Damn it. Never was there a day without this nonsense.

 

Dehart then laughed as if the thought was ridiculous and fished out a vial of medicine from one of his pockets and drank it.

 

This medicine is the closest thing I have in my life that I can’t forget taking it even for a single day, Dehart thought to himself as he unconsciously gripped tightly to the now emptied vial.

 

Abruptly, the vial fell and shards of broken glass scattered all over the floor of the carriage.

 

Cough

 

Dehart grunted as he felt an excruciating stabbing pain in his chest. He was sick and tired of this illness that had been plaguing his family for generations.

 

It was a familiar pain that a single family member would have to endure on a daily basis until the end of their life.

 

One of the few people who knew of Dehart’s condition, the doctor, had said that the disease originated from guilt. However, it was utter nonsense to Dehart and he denied that even being a possibility. 

 

It is the family’s curse.

 

Then as if resenting him for being the sole survivor, Dehart’s dead relatives often appeared in his dreams. They would reach out to him as they bled out and were in a dying state—constantly asking him to take his own life to keep them company, and saying that it was cold and lonely…

 

“Damn it.”

 

Pulling away from his thoughts, Dehart looked down at the hand that covered his mouth to muffle the cough and realized that he had unconsciously bitten on his lips to the point of bleeding.

 

Sighing, Dehart leaned against the side of the carriage.

 

He could feel the medicine taking effect as it became easier to breathe and numbness began to spread throughout his body. However, unlike usual, his mind became clearer and a voice he did not want to remember, whispered into his ears.

 

[I have something to say.]

 

“Shit,” Dehart frowned.

 

[Why do you make such a face? You were the one who has wronged me. The one who betrayed me… The one who lied and tried to gain my trust…]

 

Dehart gritted his teeth as he tried to erase the image of Sebelia from his mind. However, no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to stop seeing her face. The imaginary Sebelia continued to watch him. Just like the pain that Dehart had to endure on a daily basis, she was always there to haunt his every thought.

 

[If I was Nelia, would you still treat me the same way?]

 

As her voice rang in his ears, Dehart could feel a necklace around his neck. It felt constricting on his throat.  

 

A long time ago, she had given him a necklace of blue gems.

 

“… Tsk.”

 

Dehart tried removing the necklace but there was something rough that hurt upon touching it.

 

Seeing his reflection in the carriage’s window, Dehart smiled slightly. 

 

Ah, doesn’t that look like a cut on my neck? It almost looks like a necklace.

 

[It suits you well.]

 

Dehart’s eyes narrowed at Sebelia’s faint words. He then looked at the cross he had been holding.

 

He had vaguely hoped to become a real couple with Sebelia. There was a time when he was filled with dreams and sweet fantasies of a future he and Sebelia could share together. 

 

But it wasn’t meant to be.

 

Sebelia’s betrayal had been sharp and unforgiving. From that day on, Dehart had closed off his heart from her.

 

“You were the one who abandoned me,” Dehart said out loud.

 

With innocent eyes, you made me believe in you...

 

A beautiful smile, that dazzled me...

 

For you, I’d even cried…

 

“But all of that was so you could deceive me,” Dehart said bitterly.

 

Without warning, the window clicked open and a strong wind swept through the carriage, carrying away the small silver necklace with a cross that Dehart had been holding. The necklace was caught at the window sill. A dark shadow fell over Dehart’s golden eyes.

 

Carefully, Dehart reached out and retrieved the necklace. Not long after, the carriage shook violently.

 

​

BANG!

 

​

The startled cry of the horse echoed in the cold evening. Dehart grunted as he removed his fist from the side of the carriage he had leaned against to steady himself.

 

“Sir, are you okay?”

 

Upon the coachman’s question, a couple of knights approached the carriage.

 

“It has been done,” one of the knights said.

 

Waving the knights away, Dehart closed the window, gazing at the dulled tip of the cross in his hand.

 

He could not help but feel pathetic.

 

[If I were Nelia, would you have spent time together on our wedding anniversary?]

 

Dehart stifled a sigh as he reflected on the unanswered question. At that time, he had assumed that such a question was not worth answering. 

 

How ridiculous.

 

Not wishing to even ‘see’ Sebelia anymore, Dehart shut his eyes. He had hoped that the nightmares would return, but alas, the ghosts of his dead relatives have not listened.

 

Dehart fell into a dream of his past.

 

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It was the first night of their wedding.

 

Dehart had been standing by the door with his arms folded at his chest as he contemplated his options of either entering the room or leaving. However, his worries immediately dispersed when the door clicked open.

 

“Ah,” Sebelia’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing him stand right in front of the door.

 

An awkward moment of silence ensued as they both gazed into each other’s eyes. There was a flicker of vigilance and curiosity on their faces though it was arguably more of the former for Sebelia seeing that her whole body had stiffened up. Then, as if recovering for the initial shock, Sebelia pushed open her door a little further.

 

“Come on in.”

 

Dehart narrowed his eyes and looked at her.

 

Sebelia looked nervous.

 

Her cheeks were pale, her delicate hands trembled, and she continued to look at him with teary eyes.

 

Dehart let out a sigh and spoke bluntly, “I dislike people who have bad sleeping habits. If this displeases you, let me know and I shall take my leave.”

 

Timidly, she held onto the sleeve of his shirt and said in a low voice, “It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep anyway.”

 

“… I was being serious.”

 

“As was I.”

 

There was a long moment of silence before they had both decided to sleep in the same room. Their first night was spent without the slightest of touch. It was an awkward and trivial start—which was why Dehart had always imagined a normal future for them.

 

However, in the end, there was only betrayal that awaited Dehart.

 

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