YWPWYLFDM 35

Chapter 35

As the sun set, she hurried into the fortress courtyard, flustered, only to find Cloud giving her a worried look, his expression awkward as if he’d been waiting for her.

Standing beside him, Laura’s presence was imposing, her gaze practically screaming, “You’re as good as dead.”

Eyla, momentarily distracted and having made a mistake she normally wouldn’t, hesitated and glanced nervously between the two of them.

“…You’re late, my daughter.”

Byron, who rarely left the building, had unusually come out to the courtyard to greet her personally.

“F-Father.”

At the coldness etched across Byron’s face, Eyla didn’t hesitate for a moment; she dropped to her knees on the dirt and clung to the hem of his pants.

“Do you know how worried I was about you? Truly… I’m disappointed. My daughter… I never thought you’d disappoint me like this.”

Each word Byron spoke was deliberate, sharp, and utterly devoid of warmth.

The sweetness he usually feigned to manipulate or soothe her was absent. Even the usual pretense of concern for her sake wasn’t there—proof that Byron was genuinely angry.

“I’m sorry, Father. It’s my fault…”

Eyla cried out desperately, but Byron continued to look down at her with an expression of sheer disdain.

What Eyla didn’t know was that Byron’s anger wasn’t entirely about her.

He had been fuming over Ophelia’s pregnancy but had no one to vent his anger on—until Eyla happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“…Do you truly feel sorry, my daughter?”

Byron asked, feigning a pitiful tone. He knew that by speaking this way, the foolish Eyla would tremble with anxiety and lower her head even further.

“….”

But Eyla remained silent.

Byron interpreted her silence as shock and inability to respond.

In truth, it wasn’t that. It was Eyla’s final shred of pride. She didn’t truly feel sorry.

“Why aren’t you saying anything, my daughter?”

“…Please… just this once. Just forgive me once.”

Eyla’s pleading brought a faint smile to Byron’s face, though he had no intention of forgiving her.

The daughter of Rodrick Weißhafen begging him like this was too delightful a sight to pass up. He intended to make her beg a little more, to humiliate her further.

“Tonight, do not bring the girl inside. Since you like being outdoors so much, let her enjoy it fully,” Byron scoffed as he returned to the fortress.

“Master! That’s—”

Cloud, flustered by Byron’s command, hurried after him. It was the end of November; though Eyla was stronger than most children her age, the weather was hardly suitable for a young girl to spend the night outdoors.

Even Laura, who disliked Eyla, looked a little shocked at Byron’s order. She had not expected him to say something like that.

“…Fool. Why did I do that?”

Tears welled up in Eyla’s eyes. She could hardly believe her own foolish mistake.

Had she become overconfident from the recent praise she’d received from Cloud and Byron? Or was she simply not thinking straight from lack of sleep?

Even though her body was that of an eighteen-year-old, and not a mere thirteen-year-old, she had acted over a single rabbit.

She knew Byron wouldn’t cast her out over something so trivial. Eyla Weißhafen was necessary to him—at least until Rodrick was taken down.

If it had been in the past, she would have trembled in fear of her father’s anger, terrified of being abandoned. Not now.

Still, tears fell. She knew Byron was just venting his anger, that his punishment was unfair—but it was all caused by her own mistake. That fact hadn’t changed.

As she remained kneeling in place, dark clouds gathered and rain began to pour.

Thunder rumbled and lightning struck in the distance.

Laura, anxious and uneasy, also hurried inside the fortress to escape the rain.

The cold raindrops seemed to wash away some of the self-reproach that had been tormenting Eyla.

“…I won’t blame myself. Even if I hadn’t come back late today, Byron would have found some reason to scold me eventually.”

That was just how he was.

Was it reasonable to make her kneel outside in pouring rain for being slightly late? No. The fault lay with Byron.

It was time to stop blaming herself and move forward—using her frustration as fuel to think of how to exact cruel revenge on Byron.

Eyla gritted her teeth in the pouring rain.

“Master, the weather is cold. Leaving that young girl standing in the rain like this…”

Byron scowled, but Cloud persisted, following him into the room and trying to persuade him.

Byron sat by the warm fireplace, sipping steaming tea, his expression dark. Cloud’s insistence bruised his pride, though he knew the boy was right.

‘I only intended to tease her a little… and now it rains.’

It was a headache. Though Eyla was sturdy and rarely fell ill, once she did, it was severe. Catching a cold in the late autumn rain could be disastrous.

After a short while, Byron, whose pride had been sufficiently boosted by the delay, decided to feign yielding to Cloud’s suggestion.

“Fine… bring her in then…”

But before Byron finished, Laura burst into the room, stomping her feet.

“U-Uncle! That girl—”

Forgetting Byron was the master of the house, she threw the door open without knocking and shouted.

Startled, Cloud rushed to look outside. Eyla had collapsed onto the cold ground.

“…!”

Seeing the rain-soaked scene outside, Byron froze. She wasn’t weak… so why did a little rain knock her over?

Cloud clenched his fists on the curtain. First, he had to get Eyla inside—not waste time persuading Byron.

He dashed into the rain without an umbrella and scooped Eyla into his arms. Though she was heavier than most girls her age, she felt like a feather in his arms.

The wind blew as if she might be carried away.

Carrying her, Cloud returned to the fortress. Byron looked on, flustered. But that expression didn’t last; Byron averted his eyes, displeased by the resentment in Cloud’s gaze.

“…Make sure she’s well taken care of. She must recover quickly—training mustn’t be interrupted.”

“Yes, Master.”

Cloud gritted his teeth, watching Laura bow in submission to Byron. Could a man truly be human? Could anyone act so cold while wearing a human mask?

Cloud strode over and laid Eyla on the bed, frowning. No, he wasn’t fully human either. Byron bore some responsibility for making the girl suffer.

“…U-Uncle,” Laura called, holding a dry towel and clean clothes. She was unsure what to do with Cloud there.

“Laura.”

“Yes?”

Cloud wanted to say, “Take care of her… Eyla…” but couldn’t bring himself to speak. He didn’t feel he had the right. He just patted his niece’s shoulder and left the room.

“Mother…?”

Eyla blinked slowly.

The dark room had no light except the pale moonlight filtering through the window. But the silver hair of the woman standing before her glowed faintly.

So similar to her own hair, yet she knew instinctively that this was her mother.

At her call, Ophelia turned to her, her face brighter than anyone else’s in the world, a pair of violet eyes full of tenderness.

“Eyla!”

Ophelia called her name gently and lifted her up. With a flash.

‘…Strange.’

How could Ophelia lift Eyla so easily? Eighteen-year-old Eyla? Thirteen-year-old Eyla? She should be heavy for her mother.

Eyla laughed softly and reached out to touch her mother’s face with her small arms and chubby hands, realizing:

‘It’s a dream.’

A childhood dream she had longed for so deeply.

Even if it was only a dream, it felt wonderful.

She had spent years yearning for a mother whose face, voice, and scent she couldn’t know. Now, she remembered them all.

Eyla pressed her face against her mother’s cheek, feeling happy despite knowing it was a dream.

“Eyla, your mother will always protect you. Forever, my beautiful daughter.”

Ophelia’s voice brushed against her ears. Though a dream, the words were incredibly comforting.

Warm tears flowed down Eyla’s cheeks.