Chapter 38
“Your mother said those words.”
The hand pressing down on Lian’s shoulder sparkled with claws poised, sharp enough to strike.
Alicia gave a derisive chuckle at the shocked expressions of the Duke’s household.
She had known since the day they cast Irina out, yet she hadn’t expected they’d lack even a shred of conscience.
“If I could, I’d tear you apart here and now, blood of the Duke’s house.”
At this threatening growl akin to a wolf’s howl, Cliff quickly drew his sword and aimed it at Alicia.
“Back off!”
The claws left a sharp scratch on Lian’s cheek, drawing blood. Yet, Lian, unfazed, pushed away the sword pointed at Alicia’s throat.
“Sir Cliff, put down the sword.”
“But, my lord…!”
“Now.”
Still tense, Cliff bit the inside of his cheek, while Alicia scoffed mockingly.
“You didn’t expect your mother would say something like that?”
Lian felt entirely disoriented by Alicia’s blatant derision.
Learning that his mother had killed Irina’s father had left him in shock. And knowing that Irina, too, must have known this, he couldn’t understand her decision to join the Duke’s family.
“I want to know exactly what happened…”
“I have nothing to say.”
Feeling blood trickle from his cheek, Lian wiped it away with the back of his hand. With a sharp sigh, Alicia took a step back.
“Don’t think of returning here again.”
Seeing his face once more, hearing Daniel’s name just one more time, and she would indeed tear him limb from limb.
Without another glance at the stunned onlookers, Alicia strode back into the house.
The Duke’s estate seemed entirely reshaped to fit April’s tastes, save for a few unchanged spaces.
The study was one, filled with wooden shelves lined with books, and bathed in soft sunlight filtering through crimson curtains. It evoked memories of childhood spent within these walls.
It was here, in the library, that she had come and gone so often the threshold had nearly worn down.
“It’s not that I had much interest in studying.”
No, her interest in studying had never been strong.
They had claimed to treat her as their daughter, yet a faint unease always lingered deep in her heart.
If they ever found their real daughter, and if she was no longer needed, would they discard her?
She had played the part of “April” and knew she had to prove her worth. She needed to make herself indispensable so that no one in the Duke’s house would dare to cast her aside.
Old memories surfaced.
She had read countless books on alchemy, hoping to earn Barak’s approval, the one who despised her most among the Duke’s people. How ironic, she thought, that she still needed an alchemy book now.
Back then, it had been to impress Barak. Now, she needed it for herself, to heal April’s unyielding leg.
She had no intention of revealing her true self to April. If April knew it was she who sought to heal her, she would refuse treatment out of spite and look for other solutions.
Stretching to reach a book titled Alchemy for Skin Regeneration and Chimera Synthesis Alchemy, perched on the highest shelf, she strained, fingers just shy of grasping it.
“Ugh.”
Why couldn’t she reach? Just when she considered finding a stool, she felt a smooth, large, pale hand cover hers, steady and deliberate.
Even without turning, she knew who it was standing behind her.
“And why, exactly, do you need this book?”
The voice dripped with disdain, and it was unmistakable.
“Don’t you have no more use for this book?”
Turning around, she found Barak, brows furrowed, eyeing the book she intended to borrow.
She had assumed she’d be alone here, and if he’d taken the book for her, she would have thanked him. Instead, he stared at it, unmoving, so she held out her hand, wordlessly requesting it back.
“Didn’t you say you had no intention of impressing anyone in the Duke’s household?”
“…”
“Then why do you need this book? Surely you’re not reading it again to curry favor with me, as in the old days.”
Her face burned with embarrassment at the memories of fawning over him, eager for approval.
Curse him. That damned Barak. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her actions back then, but knowing that Barak Heil Rhys, of all people, was aware of her hidden motives stirred both anger and embarrassment.
Yes, of course he had noticed. It had been painfully clear each time she’d sought his attention by discussing alchemy with him, eagerly taking in his gaze.
Seeing he had no intention of handing over the book, she snatched it from his hand.
“This has nothing to do with you. So mind your own business.”
“You have no need to read about Chimera transplants.”
Her face twisted in frustration. How she longed to threaten him with the restraints hidden in her drawer.
“Mind your own business.”
She made to leave the library but paused as she felt his fiery gaze burning into her back.
She let out a crooked smile, a laugh rising from her lips.
“You’re here because the Duke’s family needs a stand-in for April.”
“…”
“If you’re here to play a role, don’t go provoking me without regard for your position.”
“Why? So confident your sister will be fully healed in just a year?”
Snapping the book shut with a loud slap, she met his gaze.
“What?”
“Your sister’s been convalescing at a villa since the carriage accident, hasn’t she? Judging by how she hasn’t returned to the manor and can’t be seen by the priests, she must hardly look the part of nobility. I’m curious what makes you so certain she’ll recover in a year.”
“How do you know that?”
In a sudden rage, he seized her by the collar, his expression a threat, and she laughed.
“You’re asking how I know April’s condition?”
Though there was no need to say she’d seen it herself, his gullibility at her probing was laughable.
“Did you… cause the accident?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she struck him over the head with the book in her hand.
“Ugh!”
As Barak let out a strangled groan and clutched his head, she adjusted her collar.
“Are you insane?”
He looked ready to attack her with magic, his violent nature as unchanged as ever.
Humans, it seemed, were beyond reform.
And as in the past, she had no intention of enduring his violent outbursts.
“Just listen to yourself. With that level of paranoia, you ought to be writing fiction, not leading the alchemical guild.”
“Irina Devin!”
“Don’t say my name. It’s revolting.”
The accident had occurred due to weakened terrain from a recent monsoon, not some scheme of hers, no matter how paranoid he was.
If he couldn’t contain his delusions, perhaps Barak would be better off in a monastery than here.
She watched, vaguely satisfied, as he continued clutching his head, unable to rise.
She’d only repaid him a fraction of what she’d endured, but the sensation was oddly refreshing.
She’d often dreamt of striking him, just once.
“And do you honestly believe I’d push April down the stairs?”
Slowly, he raised his head, bewilderment momentarily overtaking the rage in his eyes.
When he made no reply, she asked again, drawing out the words deliberately.
“Do you honestly think I’d push her?”
Barak opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it, unable to answer.
Yes, if he took even a moment to think, he’d know she hadn’t pushed her.
And yet, he had still taken April’s side. He had his reasons—she was blood and his long-lost true sister.
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