Rebecca focused. She closed her eyes and after gathering her thoughts, she cut her finger with the blade. The cut was rather deep. Blood spilled out of it and into the center of the summoning spell.
The blood formed a small puddle and horrifically permeated the motif. Then, the entire summoning spell seemed to flash. The thing Rebecca wanted appeared.
A corpse with two heads and skin the same dark gray as a stormy cloud. A creature that was neither human nor beast.
Rebecca wielded the blade and drove it into the hard skin of the corpse, stabbing precisely where its heart was. Blood spurted out of the dead body.
Rebecca took off her necklace and pressed it to where the blood was spurting out. The necklace emitted a strange light and started to absorb the blood. Rebecca watched as this happened without batting an eyelash.
“At first, I was only planning on getting rid of the duchess, but…”
Viscount Marezon had put the mansion and fief as collateral for the external funds he had borrowed. If the Marezons continued to be pressured financially, it was a given that the mansion and fief would ultimately be handed over.
‘That can’t happen.’
Rebecca didn’t care about the fief. But as for the mansion, she couldn’t give it up no matter what happened, since losing the mansion meant losing the secret hideout.
“It can’t be helped now that things have come to this.”
The necklace’s gem stopped drawing in the corpse’s blood as if it had reached its limit. Rebecca wiped the remnant blood off the necklace and put it back around her neck.
‘First, I’ll kidnap the duchess and use her to kill the duke. Then, I’ll have no choice but to deal with the duchess as well.’
Rebecca chose the simple route, as she always did: killing and getting rid of anyone or anything that posed a threat to her.
Duke Mayhard was more or less an unpleasant opponent to go up against, but as long as Rebecca could use the duchess to her advantage, killing him wouldn’t be too difficult.
“The monster’s pure love.”
Rebecca let out an amused laugh.
“Dying for love doesn’t sound too bad. What a romantic ending that’d be.”
Rebecca stroked her necklace as she spoke like she was reciting a line from a romantic poem. Blood from the unhealed wound on her finger flowed into the bright red jewel.
***
As soon as Yelena returned from the temple, she had a serious talk with her family. And through this talk, she was able to feel a renewed sense that her family loved her.
“I despise the temple and no longer want to associate with them. I wish my family felt the same” was what Yelena had expressed through what was no different from a tantrum. And though she couldn’t give the specific reason why, her family easily complied.
“All right, Yelena. If that’s what you wish, that’s how it will be. From now on, the Sorte Countdom will have no ties with the temple.”
“I agree.”
“Me too.”
Yelena felt that she was her family’s beloved youngest daughter and sister most poignantly in this moment. She teared up.
“I love you, Father…”
“I love you too.”
“I love you, Older Sister…”
“Mhm, love you too.”
“…”
“…What about me?”
“Um… I love you, Older Brother… I guess?”
“Why am I the only one you aren’t sure about?”
Anyhow, it was a heartwarming day for Yelena. She smiled all day.
And the next day, her happiness vanished as if it had never existed.
“Argh!”
There was no other reason except that she had suddenly remembered that her wedding had taken place at the temple.
‘That’s right, it did… We rented the temple’s main hall and held our wedding there…’
On top of that, the officiator had been a priest.
Yelena held her pillow and rolled around on her bed in anguish. The pillow became slightly crumpled after being punched multiple times.
‘The absolute worst wedding ceremony… My husband must have felt so uncomfortable…’
Of course, if she were to say this to her husband now, he would tell her that it didn’t really bother him, so she shouldn’t let it bother her either. She could even hear him saying it in her head.
But Yelena was too furious to not be bothered by it, especially since she had seen for herself Bekah’s shamelessness and absolute lack of guilt.
‘It’s not like I can go back in time and hold the ceremony again…’
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