Chapter 30
“Daughter, you must be careful on your journey.”
“I will write to you, so do not forget to reply. If you need anything, let me know at any time. I will do my best to help you.”
They were busy playing the role of doting parents, grasping her pale, lifeless hand.
“Yes, thank you for your support.”
Diana, who had not the slightest intention of indulging them, passed by as if they were mere phantoms.
“The carriage is ready!”
Just as she was spending time with others, the coachman announced their departure.
Carriage?
Lillian often suffered from severe headaches whenever she used teleportation, so she had not expected such an alternative.
The Count was well aware of the pain Diana endured whenever she traveled by carriage. And yet, even now, he had the audacity to insist on it.
Diana’s expression, which had remained composed, visibly darkened.
The moment she turned toward the Count, intending to speak, he grabbed her hand before she could utter a word.
Her vision blurred as her lashes trembled, distorting his face before her. Though his features grew indistinct, his expression remained piercingly clear.
His gaze demanded silent obedience to his decision, but Diana shook her head fiercely.
“Do not disgrace the family’s name.”
His voice struck her ears like an iron hammer. If there had ever been a trace of remorse, it had been fleeting—his usual solemn tone scolded her without hesitation.
“Father!”
“Silence. There are eyes upon us.”
How amusing. So he cared about the opinions of those insignificant onlookers.
“I will not board.”
“You will.”
“No. Prepare a horse for me.”
Diana was stubborn, but the Count was equally resolute. Realizing that throwing a tantrum would not change anything, she tried to negotiate.
“Not once—not even once—have I defied your wishes. Just this once, I ask you to respect my will.”
Though her external wounds had healed, her internal scars had not. She had been suffering from relentless nightmares, barely able to sleep.
Regardless of its size, a carriage was a confined space. In her current state, she lacked the composure to sit still and wait for their destination.
“We shall consider that next time.”
“Father!”
“How dare you raise your voice? I told you—there are eyes upon us.”
“…I do not understand why you are being so unrelenting. What will you do if I collapse from this?”
“Then that, too, will be a trial you must overcome.”
He was relentless, unwilling to bend in the slightest.
The Count had always been selfish, demanding the impossible from her without the slightest sense of responsibility.
Whoever wrote ‘No parent can ever win against their child’ was a liar. Diana had never won against them. Not even once.
“I shall serve you with utmost care! If you experience any discomfort, please let me know.”
At last, the coachman opened the door, revealing the luxurious interior of the carriage.
Diana hesitated at the entrance, lingering uncertainly—until someone gave her a firm push.
“I, too, shall miss you, my dear.”
“……”
“But His Highness eagerly awaits you. It is time to bid farewell, even if only for a while.”
To outsiders, the Count might appear as a sorrowful, loving father. But to Diana, he was nothing short of cruel.
In the end, she was forced into the carriage against her will. Seizing the opportunity, the Count promptly shut the door.
Since it was designed to lock from the outside, she had no means of escaping.
“I entrust my daughter to your care.”
“Do not worry, my lord!”
With that, the conversation ended. The coachman climbed onto his seat in haste.
Moments later, he cracked the whip, and the horses neighed in unison before galloping forward.
As the carriage lurched into motion, Diana’s breath caught in her throat.
She pressed herself against the wall, desperately yanking at the handle of the door.
She knew it would not open.
But without the hope of escape, she felt she might truly lose her mind.
“Do not think of leaving until you realize your mistake.”
Now she was hearing voices.
Like an illusion, the rough hands that had once locked her away in a wardrobe reached for her again.
“Ha… ah… haah…!”
She frantically pulled back the curtains of the window. Just then, she thought she saw a pair of blue eyes staring back at her.
With a start, she recoiled away from the window.
Even after realizing it was nothing but a trick of her mind, her nerves refused to settle.
“I knew it…”
That was why she had pleaded with the Count.
Even on her better days, traveling in a carriage had been unbearable. And now, in her most vulnerable state, how could she possibly endure it?
With neither the strength nor the will to fight off the overwhelming headache and fatigue, Diana slumped against the seat.
Like a dying creature clinging to life, she inhaled deeply, forcing herself to steady her breath.
“…This is maddening.”
Her raw, unfiltered voice echoed through the carriage.
As the relentless headache persisted, Diana pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. It burned as though it had been set aflame.
“I knew this would happen.”
She had threatened the Count, claiming she might collapse—but now that it seemed inevitable, she found herself at a loss.
If she truly did faint, she would have to explain herself. But what excuse could she possibly give?
Diana spent the following moments alternating between vomiting bile and shedding tears.
She lamented her inability to break free from the past, only to reassure herself moments later that she was fine.
Drowning in self-pity, she cursed her circumstances, only for her emotions to twist into self-loathing.
One moment, she despised her parents; the next, she tried to forget them.
As she struggled with the countless voices in her mind, enduring both physical and emotional turmoil, the carriage finally came to a halt.
Diana, who had succumbed to exhaustion and drifted into a restless sleep, slowly regained consciousness.
Pulling back the curtains, she was met with the sight of the Valencia Ducal Estate. Relief washed over her so intensely that she feared the tears she had fought to suppress would spill anew.
As she descended the carriage steps with the coachman’s assistance, a familiar face emerged from the gathered attendants—standing at the forefront was Ersivan.
“Welcome back.”
“Yes. Have you been well in my absence?”
As he brought her hand to his lips, Ersivan paused, surprised by the chill of her skin.
“…Your hand is freezing.”
“Is that so? I hadn’t noticed.”
His probing gaze met with Diana’s practiced indifference.
Without hesitation, Ersivan took her cold hands in his own, rubbing them gently in an attempt to warm them. Then, with a firm yet careful touch, he guided her inside.
“Come in at once and warm yourself. Was your reunion with your family an enjoyable one?”
“So much so that I nearly didn’t want to leave. They were all so considerate.”
Lies had become second nature to her. Even in her fragile state, she spoke them with effortless ease.
“That almost sounds as if you didn’t want to return.”
“I was merely speaking in jest. In truth, I missed this place.”
“Even if those are just words, I am honored to hear them.”
“…They are not just words.”
Within her fabrications, she slipped in a sliver of truth—though it was clear he did not believe her.
Neither of them had ever been fully honest with one another. It was only natural that he would dismiss her words as mere pleasantries.
He would never know.
He would never understand how Diana had been treated in the Count’s household or how deeply the wounds they inflicted had scarred her.
Nor would he ever realize how a simple sprig of lavender, given without thought, had once saved her.
“I missed you.”
Had it been resentment that made her blurt out those words? Or was it simply instinct?
Taking advantage of the moment when Ersivan opened the door for her, Diana let her sincerity slip free.
“I missed Evan, Hyde, Daisy… all of them.”
“I see.”
Ersivan stood still for a moment before releasing the doorknob.
The door, which had begun to close, was left unchecked—his attention had shifted entirely to her.
Their gazes met.
His irises, always blazing like fire, now bore the softness of tulips blooming in a meadow.
“Since I was the first person you mentioned, may I take that to mean you missed me the most?”
She should have denied it.
But her mind urged her to speak the truth.
Stripped of the ability to discern right from wrong, Diana ultimately gave in.
“I missed you as well.”
“……”
“Very much so.”
A gentle smile followed her words.
For once, it bore no trace of arrogance—none of the usual pretension he carried.
For a fleeting moment, the ever-calculating Ersivan seemed… genuine.
Surely, that could not be true.
Yet, in her weary state, she found herself unable to distinguish deception from sincerity.
“Shall we head inside? You’re freezing—I must insist you warm yourself at once.”
The door swung open, revealing the grand corridor adorned in deep wine-red hues.
The sight alone soothed her.
Perhaps it was the release of tension, or maybe her body had simply reached its limit.
The moment Diana stepped over the threshold, the strength drained from her legs.
Like a fragile doll, she collapsed.
Ah…
She had not even realized she was falling.
Her world tilted, her vision lowering as figures rushed toward her in alarm.
“Lillian!”
Through the muffled haze, she heard a voice crack slightly—a rare lapse in composure.
It was unlike Ersivan to react so strongly.
Had she truly startled him that much?
I can’t…
Diana fought against the darkness creeping into her mind.
I can’t collapse here…
But, just as before, her body betrayed her.
And so, she surrendered once more.
