One Day My Sister Died - chapter 30

**Chapter 30: If You Don’t Want to See Things Get Ugly**

“…….”

“Answer me. Answer! Do the people here know about your abilities?”

Yuan’s uncle was livid, his eyes practically rolling back in rage.

Yuan glared at him in silence for a moment before finally shaking him off roughly.

“Am I crazy? Why would I expose that and invite pain upon myself? After how I’ve lived in Felice?”

Her uncle, who had seemed like he was about to raise his hand in anger, stiffened as if he were about to fall off a cliff, then let out a sigh of relief.

“My God…” he murmured, suddenly starting to pray. Only then did he glance around the chaotic surroundings, checking on the injured Claude, and lowered his voice further.

“Don’t go showing your abilities for nothing and end up being used. Just fulfill your duties for your family, you foolish girl!”

Her uncle’s tone shifted, as if he were a kind elder offering advice.

“Mind your own business. Don’t contact me again, and don’t come looking for me either.”

It was as if her uncle hadn’t even heard what Yuan said. He lightly tapped her pale cheek with a finger.

“I’ll be going for now. When you return home, I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

As Yuan wiped her cheek in disgust, her uncle smiled warmly, just like when he had first come to the Felice estate ten years ago. His chubby chin jiggled with each laugh.

“Your aunt or cousins must have treated you poorly, right?”

Only after the group of uninvited guests from the imperial palace had mostly exited through the iron gates did her uncle head toward his carriage, bidding her farewell.

“When you return, I’ll make sure that never happens again.”

—

“It seems Garrette Felice gave my niece quite a stern warning. We need to probe further to see what kind of scheme he’s plotting this time.”

The Marquis of Companni closed the carriage window with a loud slam, his face twisted in displeasure.

“I don’t know if we can trust anything that a cunning merchant says, though.”

“Is there a need to trust him?”

Bolonico sprinkled bird feed for his cherished parrot, Lorenzo, into a small gold dish in the palm of his hand.

As Lorenzo opened its beak to speak, Bolonico gently stroked its colorful feathers, signaling for it to calm down.

“You don’t have to go out of your way to discard trash. Sometimes you need to carry it with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Bolonico is quite fascinating.”

Crown Prince Bolonico folded his arms, looking out the window as he continued speaking.

“This party was fruitful, Marquis of Companni.”

“Wasn’t it His Majesty’s intent to observe how the Felice family behaves? Yet, without even getting to see that, we’re returning to the palace earlier than planned.”

“Today isn’t the only day. Besides, I saw something amusing.”

Bolonico chuckled as he recalled the moment when his cousin, once considered the treasure of Yufrees, transformed into a raven and writhed in agony.

It was a rare and precious sight.

The Marquis of Companni, watching Bolonico’s doll-like face, couldn’t help but remember the gruesome accident that had occurred earlier that morning during the hunt.

It had been horrific.

Three arrows meant for hunting monsters.

Even a trained soldier could have died from the shock alone, and the sight was enough to be traumatizing.

Whether it was intentional or not, the arrows had avoided vital points, meaning the dethroned prince wouldn’t even be able to die—he’d just scream in agony.

It was a cruel fate for someone already living in daily torment.

The Marquis tried to suppress the unsettling feeling and listened to Bolonico’s words with a composed expression.

“And for some unknown reason, His Majesty has taken an interest in the woman from the Felice family. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, well… it’s not exactly uncommon, though.”

It was well-known that Emperor Igor wasn’t picky, whether the woman was a subject’s wife or a commoner, as long as she wore a skirt.

That was why the Empress had been driven to madness countless times.

If anyone else had lusted after their own nephew’s wife like that, they would’ve been labeled a vile criminal. But when it was the emperor, it was just “disappointing, but not surprising.”

In the end, no harm had come to the woman, aside from a few unwanted touches, but her husband, the dethroned prince, had borne the brunt of the consequences.

However, Bolonico seemed to have noticed something different.

“You can’t fool Bolonico’s eyes.”

“As you instructed, I’ll continue to dig into the Felice Count. The man talks as if he’s ready to spill everything, but when it comes to his family, he clams up completely.”

“Hmm…”

Bolonico’s well-groomed eyebrows rippled slightly.

“What should we do? Should we resort to torture—”

“Bolonico abhors anything so uncouth.”

“In that case—”

“That family has another daughter, doesn’t it?”

Bolonico hummed a tune as he rubbed his cheek against Lorenzo, his beloved parrot.

The Marquis of Companni jumped up, clenching his shriveled fist and shaking it furiously.

“What? That shameless Garrette Felice has deceived Your Highness again?”

“I’m not talking about the late Count and Countess of Felice, but their daughter—the fat count’s girl.”

“Ah.”

“Her eyes are exactly what I like.”

Crown Prince Bolonico, having finished doting on Lorenzo, tucked his hair behind his ears and his eyes gleamed with interest. His smooth lips, without a single blemish, twisted into a sneer.

“Those presumptuous eyes.”

“E-eyes, Your Highness?”

“People with eyes like that, Bolonico likes them.”

The Marquis of Companni pressed his lips tightly, holding back the urge to ask what this loathsome prince could possibly like, and waited for the next command.

Bolonico responded to the wait with a radiant smile.

“She seems more useful than that fat count.”

—

Claude’s bedroom was bustling with people, unusually crowded for the time of day.

The large room was in complete disarray, filled with servants carrying dry clothes, ropes, and warm water in long lines. Most of the staff were agitated by Claude’s screams, yet they quietly glanced around, as it was their first time inside his private quarters.

In the corner of the room, Vile, who was tending to Claude’s near-death state on the bed, looked as if he was the one who had been struck by the arrows.

“Get out!”

“Master! Please, let me see! You must stay still, or it will get worse!”

“I said, get out!”

With Claude’s ferocious tone, the servants left, dropping their items and scurrying out. Only Vile remained behind.

Yuan, standing by the door, clenched her trembling hands into the fabric of her dress.

Claude’s condition was horrific.

The deadly monster-hunting arrows were designed to dig deeper into flesh and bone the more one struggled.

Yuan’s mind flashed back to her childhood, remembering a patient who had been struck by a similar arrow, eventually losing their shoulder to amputation, and the screams that had followed.

“What’s happening here?”

A voice, rough with panic, came from behind her. She turned to see Lancelot, his face pale, as if he had rushed over after hearing the news.

He had planned to attend the second day of the party, but the sudden disaster had clearly caught him off guard.

“What’s going on? Hm?”

Lancelot, seeing Yuan standing at the door, hesitated to enter first, mindful of etiquette. He asked urgently instead.

Yuan, her throat tightening, opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. She looked toward Vile, who had started to remove the arrows, and then closed the bedroom door.

The sounds of groaning seeping through the door were ominous.

“…It’s because of me.”

Lancelot looked at her in confusion as Yuan explained everything that had happened from the previous night until now.

As the pale-faced man’s expression grew even whiter, Yuan finally asked the question that had been haunting her all this time.

“Have you ever met Louise Felice?”

The reason for Claude’s injuries seemed clear.

The humiliation of showing others his transformation last night, and this current accident—neither would have happened if he had simply ignored Yuan in the hallway the night before.

“Did the Master kill my sister, Louise Felice?”

“Why, now of all times, in this situation… Are you asking such a thing?”

There was no one else Yuan could ask.

The man standing in front of her was the only one she could rely on right now. He was known for his integrity, belonged to a reputable family, and had nothing to gain by deceiving her. He was one of the few trustworthy people in this house.

Yuan’s voice cracked with a rising fury that she could no longer suppress.

“Tell me!”

Her large eyes filled with tears.

Yuan’s slender chin trembled uncontrollably, unable to hold back the anxiety boiling inside her.

Lancelot, seemingly startled by the sudden change in Yuan’s usually composed demeanor, shifted uneasily. Though he wanted to look inside the room, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Where did you hear such strange rumors? You know the answer to that, don’t you?”

Lancelot, after scanning her tear-streaked face, clenched his teeth and finally responded.

“Do you really believe Claude Yufrees is that kind of person?”

Tears, which had swelled in Yuan’s dark eyes, finally spilled over, landing on her pale cheeks.

Without even realizing it, Yuan shook her head. She still didn’t know her husband well enough. But one thing was clear—she understood how much pain he lived in and how deeply he refused to share that burden with anyone.

“Does he really seem like the type of man who would ruthlessly drive away and kill an innocent person? His own wife, no less?”

Lancelot’s face tightened, as if someone were gripping his throat.

“If you’ve harbored even the slightest suspicion until now, please, let it end with what you’ve just told me.”

His caramel-colored eyes gazed straight into hers, firm yet gentle.

“If Claude ever hears that you believed such things, it would hurt him more than any physical pain.”

—

“M-Madam?”

“I’ll help.”

Ignoring the relieved look on Vile’s face, Yuan stepped forward and looked down at Claude. His ragged breathing and the sharp, piercing glare he shot her made it clear how much agony he was in.

One arrow had been removed, but two still remained.

Claude had clenched his jaw so tightly that veins bulge from his chin to his collarbone, his entire body flushed red from the exertion.

“Leave.”

His voice was sharp and cold as he ordered her out.

Vile, desperate for any help he could get, gave her a pleading look, but Claude’s eyes showed no mercy. His rejection was absolute.

“Get out. Unless you want to see something you’ll regret.”

Claude’s warning, laced with pain and frustration, made Vile freeze.

But Yuan, defying his command, walked to the other side of the bed and took his blood-soaked hand in hers.

Since the arrows were lodged in his shoulder, Claude couldn’t push her away. He growled in frustration.

“Didn’t you hear me? Get out!”

“Sir Lancelot,” Yuan called calmly, ignoring Claude’s resistance.

Lancelot, understanding her unspoken request, moved to assist Vile, holding down Claude’s struggling body as the physician prepared to extract the next arrow.

Claude thrashed.

“What are you doing?! Get out!”

“When someone holds your hand during intense pain, it cuts the suffering in half,” Yuan said softly.

“Stop talking nonsense—ah!”

Vile, having gained some courage, began carefully pulling the arrow. Using a small surgical knife, he delicately cut away at the flesh surrounding the jagged arrowhead, twisting it free bit by bit.

Claude gritted his teeth against the agony.

Yuan gripped his calloused hand tightly, absorbing the brunt of his pain.

‘One year ago, Claude was so consumed by pain that he once overdosed on sleeping pills, nearly ending his life. During that time, your sister, Louise Felice, lived in this house.’

‘Of course, Claude had no idea she was even there. She lived quietly, almost as if she were dead, for several months before suddenly disappearing. Later, we heard she had died. I confirmed it myself. According to the coroner, there were no signs of foul play.’

‘Did she have any underlying illnesses?’