Chapter 17
Barach’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of rage and desperation as he straightened up, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “The day April returns will be the day you leave,” he whispered, venom dripping from each word.
I barely managed to suppress the laugh bubbling up inside me. His arrogance was laughable, especially considering that April’s full recovery depended entirely on me—something he was blissfully unaware of. His confidence, born of ignorance, would eventually crumble into despair and humiliation once he realized the truth.
“I hope so too,” I replied, my voice even and calm.
I knew that not reacting to his threats would only frustrate him further. Barach, who once held power over me, now had nothing that could truly hurt me. His attempts to unnerve me were as futile as they were predictable.
He clearly expected me to be shaken, to show some sign of the old vulnerability he remembered. But when I met his gaze with nothing but indifference, his displeasure was obvious.
“Miss, perhaps it’s best to leave it at that…” Patrick intervened, attempting to diffuse the situation.
Ignoring him, I took a step closer to Barach, a move that would have been unthinkable for me in the past.
“Why are you so opposed to my being here, Barach?” I asked, my tone curious, as if I genuinely didn’t understand.
He looked at me as if I’d asked the most foolish question in the world.
“Are you afraid I’ll take April’s place?”
“Of course.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that echoed sharply in the tense silence of the dining room.
“Have you forgotten how you all cast me out?” I said, my voice suddenly cold and hard.
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. The expressions on their faces told me they hadn’t forgotten, not really. It was hard to forget how they had thrown me out into the cold, breaking every promise they had made to my father.
Barach had hated me from the moment I first set foot in the mansion, when I was just thirteen years old.
“Shut your mouth and get out of my sight,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
But I wasn’t about to back down now.
“Isn’t it true that April’s disappearance was your fault, Barach?” I pressed, stepping even closer.
His eyes flared with fury, and I could see the memory of that day flashing behind them—the day he had lost April.
Everyone in the household knew the story. Barach had taken April out on a festival day and had lost her in the crowd. It was the event that had driven the Duchess to madness.
“I said shut up,” he hissed, his voice trembling with barely restrained anger.
There were some things that were never spoken of in this house—April’s disappearance was one of them. And no one knew better than I did how much guilt Barach carried because of it.
I had spent years trying to get close to him, to be someone he could trust, but he had always kept me at arm’s length, his guilt and anger festering beneath the surface.
Now, as I brought those memories back to the forefront, I could see the cracks in his composure widening.
“Then shouldn’t you be angry at yourself?” I asked, my voice deceptively soft. “Why take it out on me? Isn’t that a bit pathetic?”
“Enough, Irina, let’s go back to your room…” Lian said, stepping forward to grab my wrist, but I pulled away sharply.
Why was it that they always told me to stop, to restrain myself, while they allowed Barach to lash out however he pleased?
“Is that why you’re so harsh with me? To make up for what you couldn’t do for April?” I asked, turning back to Barach. His eyes were red, like a rabbit cornered by a predator.
I had to bite back another laugh as I saw the panic in his eyes.
“April came back when she was nineteen, and she was six when she was lost… That’s thirteen years, isn’t it?” I began to count on my fingers, one by one, before smirking.
“Thirteen years is a long time, Barach. You must have wanted to make it up to her somehow. Didn’t you say the man who took her was a gambler?”
Barach’s face paled, but he said nothing.
“If it weren’t for you, neither she nor I would have had to suffer,” I added quietly.
“If you hadn’t lost her, I wouldn’t have been separated from my father. He might still be alive.”
“I said shut your mouth!” Barach roared, his face contorted with rage and tears welling in his eyes.
His infamous temper was well-known throughout the capital, but there was another side to him that only I knew—his fragility. Despite his bravado, he was far more sensitive than anyone realized.
“Threaten me all you want,” I said, stepping even closer so that our faces were inches apart. “But I don’t believe for a second that you’ll actually do anything.”
“You think I won’t?” he growled.
I knew perfectly well that Barach, as the vice-captain of the Imperial Alchemy Division, had the power to do anything he wished. If he wanted to kill me, he could. But I also knew he wouldn’t.
“Go ahead,” I challenged. “If you do, what will people say? They’ll only talk about how the princess returned to the mansion only to fall ill and be sent back to the villa.”
Rumors would fly—terrible, damaging rumors that could destroy what little remained of April’s reputation.
“So why don’t you think this through, Barach?” I said, my voice turning gentle as I laid a hand on his shoulder. “Think about what’s best for April.”
I gave his shoulder a light pat before turning to leave the dining room, leaving Barach standing there, looking like he was on the verge of tears.
Barach would never understand the pain he had caused me. He would never know how many nights I had cried in silence, too afraid to make a sound, because of the cruel things he had said to me.
"Don't cry in front of me."
"If you cry out loud, I'll shut you up for good."
Those words had haunted me for years, and even now, the memories of those nights were vivid and raw.
He would never understand, because in Barach’s world, only his pain mattered.
As I made my way back to my room, I was surprised to find Canna following me silently.
Was she going to scold me? Tell me that April would never have acted the way I did? Or perhaps remind me that just because the Duke treated me as the princess didn’t mean I actually was one?
With those thoughts in mind, I opened the door to my room and sat down heavily on the bed. Canna quietly closed the door behind her and spoke in a calm, professional tone.
“Would you like me to bring your dinner to your room, Miss? Is there anything else you’d like to eat?”
Her words were devoid of any of the snide comments I had been expecting. Instead, she simply went about her duties, opening the window to let in some fresh air.
“If not, I’ll bring the food that was prepared earlier.”
I stared at her, unable to hide my surprise. I had fully expected her to criticize me, but she hadn’t. Instead, she seemed entirely focused on her work.
“Why… are you looking at me like that?” Canna asked, turning to face me, her expression puzzled.
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