Count Artes will be overturned after his business trip.
Even in her pleasant tone, poison slipped through. The woman, who was barely conscious at the time, was silenced in the face of the simple threat.
She finally shut up. Aicila tried to relieve her feverish head. Itâs tough, but I have to put up with it. Unfortunatelyâwhich is typically looked upon as a good thingâunder the Ederka Empire, murder could not be paid for.
I want to live ignoring the law.
Aicila, a prototypical person who can make it even in the absence of legislation, sought to weather the storm in order to protect herself.
Looking down, her gaze landed on the cane lying on the floor. That very cane was dyed with a horrible color.
â¦Ah, I think Iâm losing my mind. She tried to calm her fury, but it rapidly exploded again, this time past the breaking point.
Aicila reached out and picked up the red cane. Her entire being was infused with a furious and openly deadly aura. There was a numbness all across her body, like if someone had bashed her head in. At the height of her rage, she is able to bring herself back under control. She questioned thoughtfully, taking some time to process her recent discovery.
âHow many times did you hit her?â
ââ¦â¦â
âBaby, how many hits did you get?â
The answer was whispered by a faint voice. And the astute Aicila, preparing to bite down hard, gritted her teeth.
âIsnât it a little excessive aggression for such a young child, Madam?â
The Countessâs ears reddened. All signs pointed to the fact that she was aware of her actions.
As a matter of fact, she obviously was aware. If you had even a pinch of common sense, youâd realize this.
The Countess raised her head and looked straight at her elusive red eyes. When forced to choose between her morals and her pride, the noblewoman apparently went with the latter.
âItâs just discipline, Miss Aicila Duncan.â
âDiscipline?â
âRight, discipline.â
âDiscipline⦠Good, Madam. Would you like to make a big deal with me?â
Aicila waved the cane around in the air gently.
âYou need discipline badly, and Iâll be the one to provide it to you. How about 100 golds per hit?â
âWhat utter rubbish are you talking about!â
âIsnât it a corporal punishment for a child? Why is it so difficult for an adult to take, huh? Isnât it a lucrative business to make that much money with that little physical punishment?â
Her laughter tore apart the frosty atmosphere.
âAha, youâre short of money.â
âYou mad dog!â
âItâs very unfair to hear that from a child abuser⦠Let us try to negotiate a better price. 100 is not enough. How much would you like? How much does that precious body of yours need for a hit? 100? 200? 500?â
ââ¦â¦â
âA thousand? Thatâs a very expensive body.â
Gritting her teeth, Aicila grabbed the cane.
Simultaneously, the butler of the House of the Count jumped in and blocked the woman as if protecting her. Unlike Mitchell, who was still enjoying the show, he was fidgeting and fretting the whole time.
âPlease stop, Milady.â
âMove. Do you think I canât hit you? If that woman were to be accused of assault, then youâll be guilty of aiding and abetting it. Did it bring you joy to see her like that?â
âI have never heard of a visitor hitting the head*.â
(TL/N: By âheadâ he was referring to the head of the mansion.)
âWhat a devoted dog to look after a nutcase dog. Bark more.â
Aicila raised the cane higher. The butlerâs eyes squinted shut, and the Countess hiccupped in shock.
Whoosh, the moment the tip of the cane sliced through the air.
âMilady. The child is watching.â
Likewise, upon hearing that carefree tone, Aicila stiffened with her arm raised. Similar to a broken automated doll.
Mitchellâs calm demeanor during this ordeal is due to the fact that she has a foolproof plan for stopping her employer. Despite her desire to carry on watching the chaotic scenario that she would not be able to witness even if she had bottomless pockets, the secretary stepped in at the precise moment she felt it was important to do so.
Whether or not her employerâs crimson eyes rolled in distress, Mitchell expertly put an end to the matter and had wiped out the cigarette she had been holding on the ashtray.
Even when she loses her head and acts erratically, Aicila Duncan was the type of person who wouldnât smoke in front of children. By all means.
Realizing her error, Aicila set the cane down on the floor.
Ronell could be seen shaking slightly out of the corner of her eye. Her fine, golden hair was moving, and her little hands were twitching uncontrollably as if they had tremors. Aicila heaved a sigh of exasperation at her own foolishness.
What the hell is wrong with you trying to use violence in front of an abused child, Aicila Duncan.
âBaby.â
Flinch.
Ronell cautiously brought her face up. Ruby, noticing its next owner trembling, flung curses at her, which Aicila politely received.
She knelt once again, bringing herself to her eye level.
âSorry.â
âI-itâs all right.â
You didnât swing it at me. Thatâs why.
Ronell tried to get out of the situation by rambling her thoughts.
Although Iâm scared. Even if I am, I have to be thankful first. Sheâs the one who got mad for my sake. And most of all, sheâs the one who got me out of the closet.
The sight of Aicilaâs brows becoming furrowed subconsciously prompted Ronell to feel intimidated and look around. However, the words that came from her thick, red lips were sugary sweet.
âSister* beats trash, but doesnât hit children.â
(TL/N: Sheâs referring to herself in 3rd person.)
ââ¦â¦â
âSo can you give Sister a chance?â
What kind of chance? Ronell, her eyes blinking with wonder, felt the cat reach out a paw to her.
Pat. Its white paw rested on her golden locks, and its silky pads combed over them. A kind touch, as if to reassure her that her hard work has paid off and that her nightmare is now finished.
âWould you like to come with me?â
Ronell raised her gaze and slowly looked around the room. And she thought.
The shed. The closet. The Countess. Lloyd. The days of being locked up. The misery that no one would listen to even if she cries.
Itâs like a dream. Maybe Iâm still asleep in the closet.
Ah, right. Itâs a dream.
I was so tired and exhausted that I was clearly asleep. Either Young Master Lloydâs kick will wake me up, or Mary will wake me up to treat me. Whether it was this or that, or the woman will wake her up, making her nervous.
I wish I wonât wake up forever.
Ronell looked at the worried-faced cat and the contrite pretty sister. No matter how much of a dream it was, she didnât want to make them look like that.
Their radiance was so overwhelming that she felt bad for them to have to visit her dreams.
âYou can hit me.â
ââ¦â¦â
âI-I mean. Please take me with you. I donât want to be hereââ
Though she hadnât done speaking, the woman with black hair nodded reassuringly, as if she understood.
âOkay. Letâs go to Sisterâs house.â
Itâs going to be my home now. The promise was so unrealistic that Ronell was stunned yet again.
I really canât believe I can leave like this.
Meanwhile, Aicila threw the cat on the floor and held the child up. Her abnormally light weight caused her heart to feel like it was being cut. The childâs size was indicative of the severity of the maltreatment.
Ronell stiffened.
When the girl in her arms adjusted her posture so that she would not see the Countess, the childâs tension began to ease.
Thin arms gently wrapped around her neck. Savoring the wriggling little warmth, Aicila first called her secretary.
âMitchell.â
âYes.â
âShut the noise.â
Mitchell gave a cursory nod in response to the command to pick up the pieces*. By holding up three fingers, she indicated that she planned to use 30 million gold pieces to settle the issue.
(TL/N: âPicking up the piecesâ means restoring a situation to a more normal state after a shock or disaster.)
Aicila was ready to say that spending up to 100 million is fine, but she wisely kept her lips shut. She nodded instead of correcting it. Actually, she wasnât trying to save money, but doing so would have been convenient.
Itâs a shame to waste a lot of money on child abusers.
The white cat trotted alongside Aicila, who was holding the child dearly.
â â¢â â°âââ½à¼â¾âââ±â â¢â
This child will never come back here again.
As she walked out of the front gates of the House of Count Artes, Aicila made up her mind. Unless she returns for revenge, this child will never set foot in this house again.
Meanwhile, the child in her arms was still shivering.
As expected, I didnât mean to be violent. I was too frivolous.
Aicila placed the blame on herself once more as she saw Mitchell hastily make her way toward them. The secretary, who usually does a fine job of clearing up the chaos, appeared to have succeeded yet again. Seeing her waving her two fingers with a pleasant expression, she seemed to have cleared the line with 20 million golds.
Aicila lowered her gaze and stared at the white cat sitting next to her. Its happy look was evident as it licked its feet.
It went all frantic and loutish when rescuing its future owner.
Indeed. It must have been a pleasant night for it in many ways.
Ronell, who was resting peacefully in her arms, gave a little shrug. Aicila, Mitchell, and Ruby all turned to look at her as she whispered.
âWeird.â
âMmm. What is?â
Ronell observed the long stretch of the night sky before returning her gaze to all three of them. As shadows fell over the gardens, the grandest carriage came.
âItâs cold. This dream.â
Frowning angrily, Ruby hopped up and hit Ronellâs foot. A ferocious meow reverberated across the darkness.
Donât you dare write me off as a dream! I sacrificed my dinner to save Butler! What an ungrateful butler!
â¦What the hell is that cat saying?
Ronell didnât catch on to the meaning of its cryâthankfullyâbut Aicila picked up on the frustration behind it. A sigh escaped her lips as she rescued Ronellâs foot from the catâs paw.
âBaby. Itâs an honor to, um, appear in your dream⦠but the thing is that this isnât a dream.â
It can only be a dream. When she met her yellow-green eyes, which sparkled with perplexity, Aicila grinned a little.
âWell, if you donât believe that itâs a dream then give it some thought.â