Chapter 4
“Worried?”
Sebastian rolled the unfamiliar word around in his mouth like it was something foreign, then let out a soft scoff.
That cold intensity made Erica bite down on the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw pain.
‘W-What do I do?’
He could treat her however he wanted.
After all, she was of lower status than Bonfiju.
But showing such insolence toward Sebastian Acliff? That was dangerous.
Yet perhaps because there was no one here capable of reining her in, Bonfiju finally crossed the line.
As if trying to make up for the time she’d waited, she boldly opened her mouth and spoke.
And because of that, even though she wasn’t directly involved, Erica felt as though someone had grabbed her by the collar and was choking the life out of her.
Her face went pale in an instant.
Sebastian’s lips twisted just then.
“You were worried, were you…”
His voice scattered low and slow through the air, and Erica shuddered at the sound. Goosebumps rose on her skin.
Sebastian, who had been scratching his temple with his gaze lowered, slowly raised his head again.
His chilling red eyes locked onto Bonfiju, sharp and unwavering.
A dry chuckle slipped from his lips.
He tried to smooth his expression several times, touching his mouth like he was attempting to compose himself, but it must have been too absurd, too laughable to manage.
‘What should I do with this?’
Normally, he would have ignored it.
But this time, Sebastian fixed his gaze on Bonfiju as if deciding to entertain her nonsense for a moment.
“And so?”
“…Excuse me?”
She had expected a hollow apology at worst, but instead his brazen reaction caught Bonfiju off guard. She couldn’t even hide her flustered tone.
Sebastian deliberately furrowed one brow, adopting an overbearing attitude as he questioned her.
“If waiting was so difficult and unpleasant, shouldn’t you have just returned home?”
“T-That is…”
His tone was slow, deliberate—like a hunter cornering his prey, calm yet suffocatingly persistent.
Whether from his overwhelming presence or the pressure of the moment, Bonfiju unknowingly stepped back a couple of times.
“And yet, the fact that you remained here so persistently, waiting…”
Sebastian let his words drag out intentionally.
Though his voice lacked any obvious emotion, a chilling anger was palpable.
Then, without warning, he strode forward in long strides, rapidly closing the distance between him and where Erica and Bonfiju stood.
Erica swallowed dryly.
‘What should I do? The young lord seems furious…’
Regardless of what others might see, at this moment, the person with the highest status among the Blanche family’s entourage was Erica.
If Sebastian intended to voice his displeasure or hold someone accountable, she was the obvious target.
Erica shut her eyes tight and bowed her head, certain he was about to confront her.
Her clasped hands trembled violently.
“Y-Young Lord…”
Just as she stepped forward to apologize on Bonfiju’s behalf—
She felt a chill brush across her cheek.
Opening her eyes quickly, she saw Sebastian simply walking past her without even the slightest glance.
‘Huh…?’
Startled, Erica turned around slightly, chasing his fading figure with her gaze.
And then—grab!
“Urk!”
A groan of pain escaped Bonfiju’s lips.
“…Ah!”
Sebastian had seized Bonfiju’s lower jaw with one hand and was applying pressure.
With one corner of his mouth twisted into a sneer, he asked:
“Was it such a shame to leave? That you endured the humiliation just to go through with the wedding?”
Bonfiju stammered, her voice trembling.
“P-Please… l-let go…”
But Sebastian didn’t release his grip.
On the contrary, he applied even more pressure, causing Bonfiju’s words to become garbled, until she could make no sound but strained gasps.
“You really don’t seem to grasp the situation. You still don’t know what you should be saying right now.”
A scornful sneer full of menace slipped past Sebastian’s lips.
“Pathetic.”
What exactly was pathetic?
Bonfiju? Or the Blanche family?
‘Maybe both…’
Erica bit down on her lips, her face pale as she thought this.
Meanwhile, Bonfiju’s complexion was starting to turn ashen, like plaster.
‘No… this can’t happen.’
Today’s wedding was being overseen personally by the Emperor.
If someone from either family were to die or if a fight were to break out, the consequences would be irreversible.
Moreover, Bonfiju belonged to the Blanche household.
Whether the proud and arrogant Marquis Blanche truly regarded a mere servant like Bonfiju as one of his own, Erica couldn’t say.
But after living with them, she had realized that Bonfiju considered herself the marquis’s close confidant.
‘Of course, someone like her is probably more important to the marquis than someone like me, who’s not even his real daughter…’
Which meant that right now, preserving Bonfiju’s life was the top priority.
As Bonfiju’s eyes began to roll back and drool slipped from her gaping lips, Erica rushed over to try and intervene.
“Y-Young Lord, please… calm down!”
But Sebastian still didn’t release his grip.
He only moved his cold, red gaze slowly to meet Erica’s.
Even though the murderous atmosphere dried out her mouth, she gathered enough saliva to swallow once.
Then she bowed deeply and lowered her head toward him.
“I-I’ll apologize in her place. Please, forgive the head maid. It’s my fault for failing to teach my subordinate properly.”
“….”
Sebastian offered no immediate reply.
Only after a long pause came the faint click of his tongue, like an echo in her ears.
He didn’t respond to Erica’s words.
Instead, with a cold glance toward Bonfiju, he muttered icily:
“Know that you owe your life to your mistress. It’d be best to remember that—and keep that poisonous tongue of yours in check.”
At that moment, the strength in Sebastian’s hand suddenly vanished.
Bonfiju collapsed in place with a thud, coughing violently.
“Cough! Cough!”
At least now, her complexion was no longer deathly pale.
Erica let out a silent sigh of relief.
Sebastian looked at Erica’s face for a moment, then turned away.
He clicked his tongue again and shook the hand that had held Bonfiju’s chin.
But as if the act itself still left him feeling disgusted, he abruptly stripped off his glove with a rough motion and tossed it aside.
The high priest, who had quietly been observing the situation, approached Sebastian with a gentle smile.
“It’s been a while, Young Lord Acliff. Have you been well?”
Though the Acliff family held immense power, the high priest was still someone Sebastian had to tread carefully around.
“It’s been a long time indeed. I’m glad to see you still looking healthy.”
The fierce aura from moments ago had vanished as if washed clean.
Seeing Sebastian now standing with impeccable courtesy, Erica instinctively tensed even more.
The priest gave Sebastian a friendly pat on the shoulder and lowered his voice.
“You did well to hold back, young lord. It’s a special day, after all. I’m sure the Blanche head maid simply got carried away with her devotion to her master.”
“…Hmph.”
“The young lady of the Blanche family was left waiting in the cold for quite a while. It’s only natural that emotions ran high.”
Sebastian’s tightly pressed lips finally loosened.
As his anger cooled, exhaustion crept in like a wave.
His face relaxed, just a bit.
Then, in a weary tone, he muttered:
“If I had to make excuses, the reason for the delay was the carriage.”
With those words, everyone present turned their eyes toward the grand carriage belonging to the Acliff household.
