Chapter 47

Malena pressed her trembling hands against the bleeding wound, desperate to staunch the flow. With practiced urgency, she retrieved a bandage from her medical case, quickly applying a layer of medication before balling it up and pressing it into the torn flesh. The jagged edges of the wound protested violently against the intrusion, the sensation of a foreign object burrowing into raw tissue both excruciating and unnatural.

Odelliana, curled tightly into herself, let out a low, guttural moan. Her mind drifted on the edge of consciousness, her body slick with cold sweat. Whether from the heavy blood loss or the relentless chill of rain soaking her to the bone, she trembled uncontrollably. The biting cold seemed to seep into her very marrow, amplifying the agony that wracked her weakened frame.

“My lady, stay with me! You must stay conscious!” Malena’s desperate cries sounded distant, muffled as though spoken from the other end of a vast, echoing chamber.

Odelliana’s hazy mind could only process fragments—flashes of pain, searing rage at her own powerlessness, and the oppressive weight of her suffering. As the world tilted and her strength gave way, darkness claimed her. The faint click of a lantern extinguishing was the last sound before everything plunged into silence.

***

Odelliana remained bedridden for three agonizing days, her fever burning like a relentless inferno. She hovered precariously between life and death, slipping in and out of a fevered haze.

Blair, who rushed to her side upon hearing the news, refused to leave, staying vigilantly by her bedside day and night. Meanwhile, Adella was reportedly dragged away by the guards stationed outside the annex. What punishment befell her remained a mystery to all but those tasked with carrying it out.

The Duke, in stark contrast, maintained an air of calculated control. He enforced absolute silence among the household staff, forbidding any mention of the incident beyond the estate walls. Every medical professional in his employ was summoned to focus solely on Odelliana’s recovery, leaving no resource untapped in their efforts to save her.

To an outsider, it might have appeared as though the Duke still harbored some paternal affection for his daughter. But Odelliana, who understood the grim reality, could only muster a bitter, hollow laugh. After all, she was merely a sacrificial offering for Odette

Any semblance of concern evaporated as soon as she regained consciousness. The Duke’s absence spoke volumes, and whatever faint glimmers of affection she might have clung to had long since turned to ash.

“I can’t believe something like this happened while my attention was elsewhere… I have no excuse, my lady,” Malena murmured, her voice heavy with guilt.

“And my brother, Blair?” Odelliana asked, her voice subdued yet sharp.

“He left just a little while ago,” Malena replied softly.

“…After staying by my side all day.”

“Yes, he was deeply concerned. Young Master Blair cared for you with the utmost devotion.”

The relentless pain in Odelliana’s leg flared again, sharp and unyielding despite the ointment Malena had applied. It was as if the injury itself resisted any relief, each throb a bitter reminder of what had transpired.

“Should I have slit her throat instead of just cutting her mouth?” she said suddenly, her tone devoid of emotion.

Malena froze, unsure how to respond.

“…Or perhaps I should have let her be. Was my choice the wrong one?” Odelliana’s eyes, dull and heavy with exhaustion, stared at nothing in particular.

Would it have been better if I’d wounded her somewhere less visible? If I had crippled her the way I’ve been crippled, would it have satisfied me? Or should I have ended her life entirely? What would have been the right decision?

The questions swirled in her mind, dragging her deeper into an abyss of doubt and unease. Anxiety gnawed at her relentlessly. What if her remaining leg gave out? What if she was left unable to stand ever again? She was already powerless—crippled in body and soul. If she lost even that last fragment of mobility, what would be left of her?

“Your leg will recover,” Malena said firmly, breaking through her thoughts as if sensing their downward spiral.

“…For now, I don’t want anyone but you near my room,” Odelliana replied after a moment of silence. 

“Understood.”

From that day on, Odelliana’s room became an impenetrable sanctuary. The door remained locked at all hours, barring entry to all but Malena, the doctor, and Blair. Rumors began to ripple through the estate like an undercurrent—servants whispered about the lady of the house, some claiming she had refused food, others speculating she had lost her sanity from the shock.

But no one dared to speak openly. Malena and the doctor kept their lips sealed, their silence acting as an unspoken warning. Suppressing their curiosity, the staff maintained their distance, the air around Odelliana’s room growing heavier with each passing day.

Blair, on the other hand, seemed to have lost all composure. Consumed by outrage over the harm done to Odelliana, he stormed into the Duke and Duchess’s quarters, demanding that Adella be brought to justice for her crimes. But, as always, the Duke and Duchess shielded Adella, dismissing his demands with cold indifference.

Perhaps that was the breaking point. Shortly after, Blair began leaving the estate daily. Though his true motive was to hasten his plans for independence, rumors spread like wildfire among the servants: the younger son had finally abandoned his deranged sister.

As the uproar gradually faded, so too did the household’s fleeting concern for the troubled young lady locked away in the annex. Odelliana became, once again, a forgotten specter—a name rarely spoken and a presence quietly avoided. Adella’s whereabouts remained a mystery; no one knew where she had gone, and few dared to ask.

But just as the estate settled back into its mundane routine, an unexpected piece of news sent ripples through the tightly knit web of gossip.

“Do you remember that beggar the eldest lady brought home?”

“You mean the handsome one from the slums?”

“Exactly! That pretty-faced boy she kept by her side every night. Word is… he passed the knight’s exam and became a squire.”

“…That beggar? A knight?”

The revelation stunned the servants. Matthias—the boy once scorned as a filthy street rat—had passed the notoriously grueling knight’s exam and was preparing to begin his apprenticeship. His transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The same maids who had sneered at him now found themselves unable to resist his charm, softened by his striking beauty and newfound status.

“Unbelievable! A dragon rising from the mud!”

“Exactly. The knight’s exam is an impenetrable barrier for commoners.”

“And yet a beggar from the slums passed it? Just how skilled is he?”

“No idea. But for now, he’s only a squire. Still, do you think a common-born knight can even find a knightly order willing to accept him?”

Some scoffed at the idea. For knights of humble origins, earning the title was only the first hurdle. The path to joining a knightly order was steep and treacherous. Many were left wandering the fringes of society, relegated to mercenary work or menial guard posts.

Even so, Matthias’s success was undeniable. Against all odds, the boy they had once dismissed as a mere beggar now stood on the threshold of a future none of them could have predicted.

“Especially with his backing—a crippled, deranged, illegitimate young lady no one even acknowledges as a noble,” one servant sneered.

“He’s doomed to fail,” another chimed in. “He’ll probably survive on his looks, like always.”

“With a face like that, he’d do well enough as a plaything for noblewomen. He’s got the body for it too—skilled with a sword and all.”

“He’d make a splendid courtesan, really. That face, that physique—it’s wasted on anything else.”

Their laughter echoed through the halls, dripping with scorn and mockery. The servants were certain that Matthias’s fate was sealed: a handsome but inconsequential pawn for noblewomen’s pleasures.

Even Odette, preoccupied with her bustling social life, couldn’t help but catch wind of the gossip.

“How handsome could he possibly be for everyone to make such a fuss?” she asked with mild curiosity.

“Whatever else, his face is striking,” her companion replied. “He was gaunt from malnutrition back then, but with his strong frame, he’s bound to have a remarkable physique now that he’s filled out.”

Unbothered by the news that her sister had been stabbed, Odette found herself far more intrigued by Matthias—the boy now famed for his beauty.

“Finally, I get to see this infamous face for myself. When is he supposed to arrive?”

“By evening, I’d imagine.”

A common-born squire wasn’t much compared to the noble suitors vying for her attention, but Odette couldn’t resist the allure of a strong, handsome man with no complications. She had a particular fondness for men like that: attractive, simple, and easy to manipulate. Matthias, who had foolishly pledged himself to her crippled sister, seemed perfectly suited to her whims.

“Let’s go greet him. I want to see how impressive he really is,” she said, a spark of anticipation in her voice.

Odette had no intention of allowing Matthias to remain tethered to Odelliana. He was far too good for a pathetic, broken girl who couldn’t even stand on her own.

As she stood at the estate’s grand gates, her eyes narrowed at the figure approaching in the distance. The boy who had left the estate had returned a man, his once-thin frame now strong and broad, clad in the plated armor of a squire. His sword gleamed at his side, a testament to his newfound status.

But it wasn’t just his transformation that caught her attention. Draped over his shoulder was the carcass of a beast—massive and hulking, its size dwarfing even his powerful frame.