Chapter 9…
While Clarissa was engraving a vow deep in her heart—one no one else could hear—
Creeeak.
The old door screamed as it was forced open.
Through the half-open doorway stepped a dazzling blonde woman.
Round, wide-open red eyes fell squarely on Clarissa’s face.
For a fleeting instant, the woman’s radiant features twisted, as though she had seen something she should not have.
It lasted only long enough to be dismissed as a mistake—
but Clarissa did not miss it.
Because the woman standing before her was—
the main antagonist of The Duke’s Chocolate,
the source of the protagonist’s trauma.
Belisa von Matthias.
The second wife taken by the current Count Matthias, and Aryan’s new stepmother.
Clarissa had never liked her pretty face. That had been true even before she regained her memories of a past life.
With dim eyes, Clarissa slowly scanned Belisa once more.
The flushed ivory cheeks, the refined bridge of her nose, lips red as ripe cherries, even the bead of sweat clinging to the tip of her chin.
Yes—she was beautiful.
As though whatever monster lurked inside her did not matter at all.
Clarissa felt as if a huge snake were twisting her insides.
“Good to see you again, Madam.”
Forcing down the irritation welling up inside her, Clarissa spoke.
There was nothing to gain from baring her fangs right away.
Not yet.
“Welcome, Lady Clarissa. I had an urgent matter to attend to and ended up—ah… waiting long?”
“Yes. Well.”
Despite Clarissa’s curt reply, Belisa continued speaking sweetly.
Clarissa’s eyes flicked sharply upward.
“Today—”
Belisa began energetically, but failed to finish her sentence.
Clarissa did not allow her lips the chance.
“I wasn’t waiting for you in the first place.”
“……”
She had resolved not to show her teeth—but that didn’t mean she felt even the slightest desire to be kind.
As though she had lost all interest, Clarissa tapped the worn tea table with her fingers.
“Aryan will be coming down… shortly.”
“Hm. Is that so?”
Belisa’s eyebrows trembled faintly.
At this point, one would expect her to back down easily—yet today, she was unusually persistent.
“Lady Clarissa, are the Marquis and Marchioness well?”
“Hm? You’re still here?”
Crunch.
The sound of teeth grinding escaped from between Belisa’s lips.
So bad at hiding your expressions, Clarissa thought.
Seeing Belisa fail to contain her displeasure, Clarissa barely managed to suppress the laughter threatening to spill through her teeth.
Provoking her opponent was undeniably delightful—but Clarissa had not come all this way for that alone.
“Madam.”
For the first time, Clarissa moved her cheeks.
A gentle smile bloomed on the girl’s face—softer than ever.
Belisa’s red eyes quivered.
Clarissa had come here today with exactly two purposes.
“Am I… making you uncomfortable?”
“……Hoho, why would I be uncomfortable with you, my lady?”
Belisa smiled neatly, as though she knew nothing.
From the shadow behind that picture-perfect smile, Clarissa felt a distinct sense of déjà vu.
She hasn’t received the annulment letter yet? That shouldn’t be possible…
The Lisette family—especially Vestas—were beyond reproach when it came to handling such matters.
“Is that so?”
“Of course.”
The first purpose: the disposition of the annulment letter.
Ah, I see. Clarissa is fickle, after all.
Belisa’s exaggerated expression of innocent ignorance was so absurd that Clarissa actually laughed.
So you’re going to pretend you don’t know. Fine by me—thanks.
Clarissa’s face grew noticeably lighter as she offered her thanks inwardly.
But only for a moment.
When her gaze lingered on Belisa’s still-flushed cheeks, Clarissa’s expression turned visibly cold.
Because she remembered her second purpose.
But you—who received it without incident.
Yes. The other purpose was—
“Aryan is late.”
There was no way she had left Aryan alone and unharmed.
The snake in Clarissa’s belly writhed once more.
Her eyebrows trembled slightly. There was no more time to waste.
“I can’t keep a busy madam for too long.”
Deliberately cutting her words short, Clarissa rose to her feet.
“I think it’ll be faster if I go myself.”
“Pardon?”
Belisa swallowed sharply and shifted her body.
“N-no! There’s no need for you to trouble yourself—just a moment…!”
Her wide eyes, blocking Clarissa’s path, shook with unease.
Belisa hurriedly searched for her attendant.
But Belisa herself knew better than anyone that the man who knew her secret could not leave his post so easily.
The lips she forced into a smile trembled.
“Why?”
In the shadowed room where sunlight barely reached, Clarissa’s golden eyes flashed fiercely.
“If I want to see my fiancé.”
It was summer.
Yet what crawled up Belisa’s thin skin was unmistakably cold.
She shuddered without realizing it.
“Isn’t it usually the one who wants to see first who goes looking?”
Click, click.
Clarissa’s thick hair swayed gently with each step.
A cloying sweetness tickled Belisa’s nose. She parted her lips, but no words came.
The moment her breath caught, Clarissa brushed past her.
Belisa reached out—but she could not even dare to grasp the hem of her clothes.
“Unless.”
At Clarissa’s voice—chillingly calm, far from childish—Belisa’s fingers unconsciously traced the skin beneath her own neck.
She was just a child who flaunted her parents’ power.
So why—
As Belisa wandered, unable to grasp the source of her fear, Clarissa whispered once more.
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t go and find him myself?”
Rustle.
Sheets of paper fluttered down onto the back of a small, white-haired boy.
They brushed past his head, his back, the backs of his hands—until at last Aryan’s eyes landed on the words printed in bold.
He stared blankly.
‘Request for Annulment.’
“Ah…”
His blue eyes began to tremble, as though they had nowhere left to go.
It wasn’t entirely unexpected.
Even if her kindness had only been a momentary whim, it had been his own foolish question that let it slip through his fingers.
Still—
[Shall we start as friends?]
That sweet sentence had kept Aryan standing.
No—had made him think he could endure.
If only—
“If it’s useless, then.”
If only it hadn’t been her voice—so unlike the usual cold sharpness.
“Well, who would want something like you in the first place?”
Clear droplets began to fall from beneath Aryan’s bloodless cheeks.
Clarissa’s face—the one holding his heart together—blurred from view.
“In the end, this is all because you’re pathetic anyway…”
Belisa had never once said anything wrong.
At least, that’s how it felt to Aryan.
Unable to lift his head, Aryan covered his left hand with his right. The trembling wouldn’t stop.
As he curled his body tightly inward, Belisa’s black shadow loomed over him.
The sound of her shoes echoed near his head.
Along with her dry laughter, a heavy thud rang out from somewhere.
Aryan knew better than anyone where that sound came from.
“You should be punished accordingly, shouldn’t you?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Aryan’s small shoulders shook like aspen leaves caught in the wind.
Pressing his lips to his hands as if in prayer, he pleaded desperately.
Please… anyone.
But he knew.
There was no one who would answer that prayer.
Creeeak— BANG!
The lid of the box slammed shut.
With a deafening crash, the light vanished.
Along with a woman’s sigh, footsteps faded away.
A tiny space where he couldn’t even stretch his shoulders. Ragged breathing.
Anyone…
Then, complete darkness.
No one is coming.
Just like always.
Time lost its meaning.
The tears that seemed endless dried up. His lips cracked.
Breathing became difficult.
And when every sensation began to drift away—
Knock, knock.
Someone knocked on Aryan.
Light poured in through his blurred vision. His scattered senses reflexively chased it.
With great effort, he reached out—and the light took his hand.
“…Found you.”
A soft scent of chocolate. Warmth flowing into his fingertips.
Aryan blinked.
A small golden sun had come to meet him.
And Aryan called the owner of that sun—
“Clarissa?”
