The Garden of Viscount Albusell's Manor
"W-what did you just say? Did you just call her a witch?"
Leah's voice trembled faintly, choked with nameless dread. Her gaze, unfocused from shock, turned toward her aunt—the Viscountess—whose face had hardened like ice. Against the splendor of roses blooming throughout the garden, the air had turned cold as a winter grave.
Her aunt merely continued to look down at her. That gaze held the icy contempt Leah had ever witnessed, as if she were nothing more than a stain marring the woman's pristine garden.
Leah struggled to her feet from the dirt-stained ground. Every muscle in her body shook as if seized by spasms. Desperately suppressing her emotions, she met her aunt's eyes and forced out the question once more.
"Our... mother was a witch? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes."
The brief, merciless answer struck Leah's ears like a hammer blow. She swayed on her feet. Her mind went blank as the world spun around her.
"That can't be true. Mother was...! She was..."
The witches people imagined were creatures who brought misfortune through curses and malice. Remembering the face that had smiled at her with such tenderness, Leah shook her head violently. The mother she knew couldn't possibly have been a witch who'd made a pact with the devil. Leah forced herself to stop trembling and spoke firmly to her aunt.
"You must be mistaken."
"You were too young then. Of course you wouldn't have known."
Her aunt's lips curled up at one corner.
"But I saw it with my own eyes."
The scene from that day rose vividly before her aunt's eyes.
Seeing a maid collapsed and bleeding, Leah's mother had knelt beside her and placed her hands calmly over the wound. Soon, a green light had flowed from her fingertips. As that light enveloped the wound, incredibly, it had begun to heal.
Her aunt recalled that day as if it were yesterday, then continued speaking while glaring at Leah with frigid eyes.
"I know exactly what kind of person your mother was."
Her aunt's conviction and revulsion crushed Leah's heart. Her vision blurred with unshed tears.
"Did Father... know too? Then Father also... thought of Mother..."
Leah's voice cracked with fear. Had her father thought of her mother that way too? The thought terrified her. Just the possibility that her loving parents might not have been who she'd believed them to be made her chest constrict with anguish.
Her aunt smiled coldly at Leah's stricken face. She remembered her brother who hadn't believed her. But there was no need to tell Leah that.
"Do I really need to spell it out? Why else do you think that accident happened?"
The word 'accident' drove a dagger through Leah's heart. Not just an accident—the realization that her parents might have died because of her mother's cursed power left Leah reeling, her mind going blank.
"No... that can't be... true."
At Leah's mumbling, strong hands seized both her arms. Leah winced in pain and glared at her aunt.
"Listen to me carefully."
The Viscountess's voice rang in Leah's ears. Her extremely lowered tone was sharper than any blade.
"If you want to protect your brother David..."
Leah's delicate head turned slowly. At the edge of her vision, seeing her young brother huddled and muttering incomprehensibly, a suppressed sob burst from Leah's lips.
"You must hide your power completely. Absolutely no one must find out. The moment anyone learns you're a witch, both you and your brother will die. Do you understand?"
Tears fell from Leah's wide eyes. Terror, despair, and the obsessive need to protect her brother crushed her entire being.
The Viscountess released Leah's arms. With unsteady steps, Leah moved toward her brother. She embraced him as if collapsing.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, David. Because of me..."
Throughout history, countless women had died branded as witches. The moment it was revealed that she was descended from a witch, her fate on the scaffold would be sealed. Her disabled brother wouldn't be spared either.
Never... neither she nor her brother could die.
Leah released her brother. Rising slowly to her feet, she clenched her hands—the very hands that harbored the miraculous power that had saved her brother from death. Her nails dug into her palms.
Suppressing the pain that threatened to burst her heart, she turned around. Seeing her aunt's icily composed face, Leah bit her quivering lips and spoke.
"Aunt... I'll do as you say."
Leah forced the words through her constricted throat. A satisfied yet cold smile ghosted across the Viscountess's face.
"Good. This is all for your own good, understand?"
"Yes, Aunt. Thank you."
Leah bowed her head, clasping her shaking hands together.
That her mother had been a witch. That she herself had been born with a witch's abilities. And that she must hide these truths for the rest of her life.
These three secrets weighed on her shoulders. Every breath tore at her chest with pain. Forcing down her heart that felt ready to burst, Leah turned her gaze toward her brother behind her.
No matter what happens, I'll protect you, David.
Leah knew she had no choice. She felt as if she were sinking endlessly into a swamp.
"My lady, you have visitors."
A servant entered the garden carefully and spoke. Her aunt—the Viscountess—withdrew her icy gaze from Leah and asked coldly.
"Visitors? Who?"
"They say it's Duke Alberesque and the Marquis, my lady."
"What? The Duke and the Marquis?"
She'd heard plenty about the Marquis—supposedly devastatingly handsome and tremendously wealthy. But his older brother, the Duke, was not well known. Just that they were twins and the elder had inherited the dukedom. She couldn't believe the rarely-seen Duke had come to visit. The Viscountess couldn't contain her excitement at this unexpected noble visitation.
She hurriedly adjusted her dress and smoothed her hair. There was no time to waste. Nearly running into the house, she urgently asked the servant where the guests were.
Leah watched as her aunt hurried into the house with the servant. She approached her playing brother and reached out to stroke his hair.
"Leah!"
At her aunt's sharp call, Leah spun around in shock.
"Prepare refreshments for our guests, immediately!"
"Y-yes!"
Leah hurried toward the kitchen. Before entering the house, she turned to look at her brother. With a heart as heavy as stone, Leah headed to the kitchen.
The Viscount's Drawing Room
"Typical of the Viscount—so extravagant. Despite having no money..."
Hector surveyed the drawing room with a low sneer.
This Viscount Albusell's house was merely villa-sized in reality. Yet it was crammed with gold damask wallpaper, heavy crystal chandeliers, and gilded furniture. It was nothing but a collection of vanity, bought recklessly to show off to others while drowning in debt.
The air was thick with rose perfume and leather. Hector considered this excessive space a perfect display of the Viscount couple's vulgar ambitions.
Meanwhile, Eugene stood alone by the long windows where sunlight streamed in, at the corner of the drawing room. He gazed absently at the garden beyond the thick glass.
His dark brown hair, slicked back with pomade, accentuated his sharp features. His perfectly tailored frock coat emphasized his solid build on his towering frame. His legs, clad in dark trousers, stood planted like pillars, and his restrained posture alone commanded the space with an aura that chilled the drawing room.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting, Your Grace."
The heavy oak door of the drawing room swung open with a bright, slightly breathless voice.
The Viscountess entered first, her skeletal frame draped in crimson silk. The pearl and ruby choker at her throat only emphasized her gaunt neck. The overwhelming rose perfume enveloping her body instantly dominated the drawing room's air.
"This is my daughter, Beth. Beth, quickly greet His Grace!"
The Viscountess pushed her daughter's back lightly, unable to contain her excitement. Plump Beth looked like a confection in her pink silk dress laden with ribbons, her face painted thick with powder and rouge.
"My goodness, to be graced by the presence of Duke Alberesque himself! This is truly an honor for our household!"
The Viscountess made a fuss with exaggerated gestures, clutching her skirts and curtsying deeply. Beside her, Beth twisted her body coyly and laughed flirtatiously at the sight of the handsome twin brothers.
"Forgive our sudden visit, Viscountess Albusell."
Hector smiled and greeted the ladies. Beth looked at Hector and swayed as if about to faint, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead.
The Viscountess caught her daughter and simpered.
"The Marquis is always welcome."
"You're too kind, Madam."
Eugene watched Hector and frowned at the women's boisterous display. The overwhelming perfume invading his nostrils suffocated him oppressively. Not hiding his displeasure, he walked to the sofa and sat down.
Seeing the Duke sit coldly with his legs crossed without even glancing their way, the mother and daughter laughed even louder in their nervousness. Eugene had already felt extreme fatigue from the moment they'd entered the drawing room. Soon, he heard footsteps approaching.
His heart already knew who it was by instinct. His blue eyes flickered minutely. A woman entered the drawing room with quiet, controlled movements, carrying a tea tray.
Eugene's heart began pounding wildly the moment he saw her.
Leah Brennan.
The woman who had saved his life. She wore a simple linen dress in faded gray, a stark contrast to the Viscountess and her daughter's gaudy display. Though she wore no ornaments or jewels, the unruffled composure flowing from her fingertips as she balanced the tray seemed to instantly purify the room's noisy atmosphere. Instead of overwhelming perfume, only a faint soap scent emanated from her.
Eugene's displeasure vanished as his blue eyes followed Leah's movements as she set down silver teacups on the low table.
Her red hair neatly braided, her slender waist that would fit in his hands. Eugene's vision filled with her alone. Sitting with crossed legs, he touched his lips with one hand. Seeing only her neat forehead and cute nose, his blue eyes crinkled slightly in dissatisfaction.
She should have met his eyes at least once, yet the woman stubbornly went about her task. He wanted to see those deep green eyes looking at him.
As soon as Leah finished setting down the teacups, she turned quietly to leave the drawing room with her head bowed.
What, is she really just going to leave?
Uncrossing his legs, Eugene was seized by instinctive urgency. He couldn't let her go like this.
"Wait."
Eugene's voice rang through the drawing room, low and controlled yet cold. The Viscountess and her daughter's chattering laughter stopped instantly.
The woman's shoulders flinched as she slowly raised her gaze. Finally meeting her beautiful eyes, Eugene felt every cell in his body drawn to her.
His expression remained unreadable, as if wearing a mask of indifference. But beneath that icy exterior, Eugene felt a yearning. This was the woman who hadn't left his thoughts since they'd parted. And now she stood before him with her faint soap scent.
"Are you perhaps..." His tone was flat, almost indifferent. As if addressing a servant, more confirming than questioning. "The daughter of Count Brennan?"
"Pardon?"
Startled by the man's unexpected question, Leah looked at him in confusion. Meeting those ocean-deep blue eyes, she realized how devastatingly handsome he was. Her face flushed slightly when suddenly a voice echoed in her mind.
I only want to help you. Trust... me.
The deep, low voice of an unknown man overlapped with Eugene's handsome face. A sudden sharp pain rang through her head, and Leah dropped the tray, swaying.
"Ah!"
Seeing the woman about to collapse before him, Eugene shot up and reached for her. With one hand he caught her arm, with the other he supported her slender waist.
Panicked green eyes met ocean-blue ones. In that moment, an indescribable fear crashed over Leah like a wave. With terror that froze her entire body, her pupils dilated as her head felt ready to split.
In agony as if having a heart attack, Leah's focus soon faded.
Beth let out a piercing shriek.
"Oh my goodness!"
The Viscountess and Beth's sharp cries echoed through the drawing room as Eugene held the unconscious Leah in his arms.
For a moment, time seemed to stop. Eugene stared down at her pale face, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath his fingers.
What's happening to her?
Then he caught it—a faint, otherworldly glow flickering beneath her skin, barely visible.
His eyes widened in shock.
Impossible.