Chapter 04
“A letter has arrived, Miss.”
It wasn’t Anna, who always helped Marsha, but a strange young maid who looked like she was in her late teens.
She held out an envelope.
The cheap envelope had “Wilford” written on it.
Marsha quickly took the letter.
The maid glanced at the untouched breakfast tray and asked,
“Should I clear this away?”
Marsha nodded, and the maid silently took the cold food and left the room.
With trembling hands, Marsha opened the envelope.
It was the letter she had been waiting for from Wilford, but it was shockingly short.
“I heard the news. The Count kept delaying marriage, and now this has happened. The Count’s foolish choice has left you broke. And I cannot marry a broke woman. You won’t hear from me again.”
A month had passed since Count Emelide’s funeral.
Yet, instead of mourning or comforting her, Wilford sent such a cruel letter.
“How could you do this to me…?”
Every time Marsha felt anxious because he didn’t come despite her waiting, she shook her head hard.
She thought something big was holding him back, and he wanted to come running to her.
“How can this be…!”
He once whispered sweet words of love, but now he was so cruel!
Marsha grabbed her chest tightly.
Her weak hands, which hadn’t eaten or slept properly, trembled and finally dropped helplessly.
At that moment, noise came from outside the window.
“I’ve always thought this tree looks out of place.”
Marsha’s cold eyes turned toward the window.
Mr. Poudel was pointing at a large tree with his fancy, gold-decorated cane, complaining.
“It’s just big and ugly, isn’t it? No mansion plants a tree right in the middle of the garden like a fountain. We should get rid of it soon!”
“That crape myrtle tree was liked by Count Emelide’s wife…”
“So what? Should I leave it be?!”
“Ah, no, sir.”
The butler bowed, and Mr. Poudel clicked his tongue, stroking his mustache.
“My daughter will soon be the lady of this mansion. If you keep living stuck in the past like this, I’ll have no choice but to fire you.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Tsk. Anyway, get that tree removed this month! Also, look for a technician to install a marble fountain.”
“Yes, sir.”
The butler hurried after Mr. Poudel, who was pointing around and complaining.
Marsha’s eyelashes trembled.
“That tree… how could they…”
That crape myrtle held memories of love between Count Emelide and his wife, and it held Marsha’s happiness too.
‘I can never let them remove it without permission…!’
Overcome with emotion, Marsha left the room.
But as she stepped into the hallway, she stopped.
The hallway felt so unfamiliar.
Though it was her first time leaving the room since Richard left, she had lived here all her life.
Why did it feel so strange?
‘The lampshades…’
The old ivory lamp shades had been replaced with fancy gold ones.
Not only that, the green curtains the Count’s wife had chosen were gone, replaced by red curtains with embroidered roses—Rosna’s favorite.
As Marsha stared blankly at the curtains, a voice came from downstairs.
“Anna!”
“Oh, Miss Rosna! Did you call?”
Anna, who usually snapped at Rosna, answered kindly.
“My father might be feeling hot. Could you bring him a cold drink?”
“Oh my, Miss Rosna is such a dutiful daughter! Preparing everything so carefully!”
“Heh. Compared to Marsha, I fall short. Every time I see Marsha, I feel ashamed. She was the only family Father had, but I couldn’t be the loving daughter she is.”
Anna smiled awkwardly, and Rosna sighed deeply.
“I wish I could be as lovely as Marsha. What do you think, Anna?”
“Oh, please don’t say that! Miss Marsha isn’t lovely—she’s weak. Look at her now—lying down all day! The Count spoiled her too much. In contrast, Miss Rosna is active and elegant! Look how much brighter this old mansion looks! Mr. Poudel must be so proud.”
“Oh? Really?”
Rosna laughed happily.
“……”
Marsha slowly returned to her room and thought quietly.
‘I have no one left on my side in this mansion.’
The reliable butler was gone, and Anna, who loved her, was gone too.
‘…And not just in the mansion.’
Her fiancé, Wilford, and her only friend, Rosna, had all left her side.
Lucas hadn’t visited even once since that day.
‘What am I going to do from now on?’
Her last name was still Emelide, but now she would live a life completely separate from the Emelide Count family.
She would have to leave this mansion too.
‘…I don’t want to live in a mansion without any trace of my parents.’
Yes.
She didn’t want to live anymore.
She no longer had a reason or hope to live.
There was only one choice.
‘To die.’
If she died, this hell would end.
How should she die?
‘Should I jump out the window?’
But that would take a long time to clean up.
Medicine would be hard to get.
‘What about hanging myself?’
Until night, Marsha thought about how to die.
Then she chose what seemed best.
She got up and opened a drawer, taking out a small, fancy knife she used to open envelopes or cut scraps.
It looked sharp enough to cut her thin wrist.
Without hesitation, Marsha raised the knife to her wrist.
The cold touch gave her goosebumps, but it also felt like finishing a troublesome task, and she felt relieved.
“……”
Just as Marsha was about to make a deep cut on her wrist with a simple motion—
“Miss.”
Someone knocked and called her from outside the door.
Startled, Marsha asked,
“Who is it?”
“I’m Richard.”
Why had he come to see her?
‘Why now of all times…?’
Annoyed by the unwanted interruption, Marsha frowned.
“……”
Just as she was about to tell him she didn’t want to meet and to leave, he said,
“I know it’s rude to come so late, but I have something important to tell you.”
“……”
Marsha closed her eyes tightly, her brow furrowed, and sighed deeply.
“Come in.”
She threw the knife onto the bed and spoke.
Richard entered, bowed his head politely, and looked at Marsha, who had become pale and thin like a corpse.
“I must leave the estate tonight, so I had no choice but to come now.”
“You’re leaving today?”
“Yes. I have finished all the legal procedures.”
“That means Lucas really is the next Count Emelide.”
“…Actually, if he agrees, that will happen immediately…”
Richard hesitated, then continued,
“He said there’s too much ongoing work, so it’s difficult to inherit the title right away. That’s why you will go together to the central court tomorrow to officially declare your intention.”
“I see. So when will he actually inherit the title?”
“The government protects the title and property for up to five years. If you marry within that time, you will immediately receive the title.”
“I understand.”
Marsha said without much feeling.
Since she had chosen death, she didn’t care much about what would happen next.
Then Richard took a small ring case out of his pocket.
“What’s this?”
“The Count kept this with his will.”
Marsha’s eyes widened.
Richard placed the ring case gently in his thin hand and said,
“Normally, this would belong to Lucas, but I thought it right to give this to you.”
With trembling hands, Marsha opened the case.
Inside were two rings, identical to the Count and Countess Emelide’s wedding rings, with unique two-colored tourmaline stones.
There was also a small card inside the case.
“My life’s most brilliant jewel. Congratulations on your marriage. I give you my luck. Be happy. For a long time, until the end.”
Marsha, who forgot to blink while reading the letter, twisted her face when she reached the last period.
“Ahhh…!”
She cried so much that no more tears seemed to come, but the painful wounds inside broke open and tears burst out again.
Her chest burned.
It hurt so much she couldn’t bear it.
Marsha collapsed weakly to the floor.
Richard kneeled down to meet her eye level and spoke.
“Miss, I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this must be for you. But still, I hope you find strength.”
“Wh-why should I have strength…? Ugh, I have nothing left now…”
Through her tears, Marsha barely managed to speak.
Her voice sounded like someone crying out underwater—full of pain and sadness.
No comfort could reach her.
Even if it did, it would melt away and disappear without a trace in this cold, empty feeling.
Richard, who found it hard to watch Marsha break down, looked away.
‘That is…’
His eyes shifted to the silver knife lying alone on the bed.
Why was a knife, something usually kept on a table, lying there like that?
