One Day My Sister Died - chapter 32

**Chapter 32: Is There a Wife Who Fears Her Husband?**

Yuan gave up on supporting him and instead stood by the bedroom door.

Claude’s bloodshot eyes fiercely turned towards Yuan.

“If you don’t want me to, I’ll go alone.”

“You. Come here right now. Answer me.”

Yuan briefly stared at the swaying Claude before quickly moving to his side.

Claude, who had habitually leaned on her for support, stood there vacantly watching her black hair flow away from him.

In Yuan’s hands was the empty dish that Claude had eaten from.

“I’ll take this away. Because of the arrow that hit your thigh, if the bleeding stops, it would be better for Sir Vile to start walking a little bit, so I wanted to help… But if you don’t want me to, you can walk alone in the bedroom.”

“Hey. Aren’t you coming over?”

“If I don’t go, will you hit me?”

Is that something a noblewoman would say?

Claude glared at her as if to say what nonsense she was talking about.

Who would hit someone as small as that? It was so absurd that he couldn’t even muster a sarcastic laugh.

“What happened to your head? You’ve completely lost your courage now.”

“Is there a wife who fears her husband?”

Claude flinched.

Wife. Wife. That damned wife.

Clearly, she was a servant to be used when needed, and they had previously settled on their relationship as just a feudal one, merely calling each other husband and wife.

Her expression was as if asking why she was behaving this way.

However, what was frustrating was that, being a sin-ridden lord, he was in no position to refute those words.

‘Honestly, you should be a bit scared of me,’ was something he couldn’t bring himself to say to her pale, gaunt face.

He was the one causing that face to be so distressed every night.

While his mind was reflecting on this, he felt cold sweat trickling down his back as he prepared to flee, full of prickly words he wanted to spit out.

Borrowing Lancelot’s words, it felt like an allergic reaction to act against his “damned temper.”

But whether he knew Claude’s feelings or not, his rambunctious “servant,” talking about family and wives, smiled slightly and left the bedroom.

“I’m always outside, so come out whenever you want.”

Claude Yufrees actually left the bedroom on his own during the day.

It was something he could never have imagined happening.

—

“Lady. Please don’t wait too long. I’ve been working here for over three years, but I’ve never seen you out during the day. Would you come out while we’re wandering around like this?”

“Right. I’ve been here for five years, and I first saw you when His Majesty came last time.”

“Ever since you came to this mansion, I’ve seen the shadow of the master more often than I’ve seen you during my time here!”

Yuan smiled warmly at the maids who passed by, chatting as they carried the laundry.

It had already been a week.

Claude did not accept Yuan’s proposal to take a walk together.

Moreover, every time Yuan prepared three meals a day for him, he would say something cold like, “Don’t waste your energy on unnecessary things,” and started asking how old she was as if waiting for the right moment whenever he needed support.

Even though she suggested going outside for a walk if he was curious, he remained holed up in the room until the end.

‘Honestly, I’m not that curious at all.’

As Yuan pondered Claude’s reasons for not coming outside, she began to wonder if it was really because his half-face was disfigured.

Claude had only stepped outside once when people were around.

That was only when the emperor made his visit, and at that time, he wore a mask to cover his half-face.

What if she could completely erase his pain?

‘But if I do that…’

Then Yuan would have to bear that pain for a lifetime.

Every pain had a “core” of suffering that existed.

Whenever pain is generated from that core, people feel it, and during that time, Yuan helped her uncle by absorbing the pain emitted from that “core.”

The same goes for Claude.

The core of Claude’s pain slowly activated during the day and ran rampant at night.

What Yuan was doing now was to slightly withdraw and share that raging pain.

For Claude to be permanently freed from that pain, Yuan would need to uproot the very core of that peculiar pain he possessed and absorb it.

If that were to happen, Claude’s body would become clean, while Yuan would harbor the core of that pain within her. Just a little relaxation would plunge her into the abyss of suffering.

Ordinary people like Claude would express their pain on their skin, allowing others to recognize it, but for someone like Yuan, who absorbs pain and merely feels it, it would hurt just as much, yet there would be no visible symptoms, so no one would know.

This ability becomes more proficient the more it is used, and Yuan had reached the stage where she could store pain and release it gradually. However, that did not mean it eliminated the total amount of pain.

Especially the kind of pain like Claude’s, which would never disappear unless passed on to someone else, would be even harder to bear.

Just sharing his pain a little would leave her feeling dizzy enough to scream, but bringing the core of pain? That was beyond imagination.

However, if he was confining himself because of that devilish pain extending to his face…

*‘I can help.’*

If she were to consider this place a true home and him a real family, she could handle the pain that stretched to his face.

If she could manage to share only as much pain as to not let it extend to his face while slowly spreading like poison every night…

Claude could be more at peace during the day and could leave the bedroom to engage in normal activities.

“Madam.”

“Oh, Sir Lancelot.”

“I would appreciate it if you would just call me Lancelot.”

Early in the morning, after finishing his business with Claude, Lancelot approached Yuan.

Yuan recalled how she had pressed Lancelot when Claude returned with an arrow wound, and she smiled a bit awkwardly.

“I should express my gratitude first, Madam.”

Fortunately, Lancelot opened the conversation.

“Claude seems much brighter.”

…Really?

Yuan momentarily suppressed the words that were about to burst out and perked up her ears.

Lancelot, brushing his caramel-colored hair, glanced upward to make sure no one was around before lowering his voice.

“Thanks to you, Madam.”

“What did I do…?”

“Ever since you came to this mansion, Claude’s complexion has improved significantly. He talks more. Originally, he would find it bothersome to even speak and would just nod his head. That guy expresses his dislike with his eyes and gives orders with his chin. You must know that well.”

Lancelot smoothly continued, like a fish in water, and eventually let out a sigh of relief.

“Though he has a nasty way of speaking, what can you do? As his only friend, I have to endure. It’s natural for a sick person to be sensitive. Now that someone understands that and has brightened up the atmosphere of this home, I can breathe a little easier. Young ladies have been lining up to find me in the capital, and I’ve been wasting my youth coming to this dreary place just to keep him company.”

“Oh.”

The reasonClaude understood pain was simply that she could feel it.

The initial willingness to do this was to win his favor and remain in this house, and to verify Louise’s death.

In the end, if he bore guilt, she wanted to hold him accountable for Louise’s death.

Now she was the one in a guilty position, though.

Feeling a prick of conscience, Yuan merely nodded.

“Claude told me not to wait because he wouldn’t be coming out.”

Of course.

That must be a euphemistic expression, and he probably said, “Don’t waste your time, and tell that foolish woman not to wait for me.” Yuan chuckled softly.

Lancelot, after observing Yuan, who was unaffected by such remarks, cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“You must be bored without anyone to talk to.”

“Though the servants are busy, they are all kind, and since the mansion is so large, I lose track of time wandering around looking at things.”

She genuinely meant it.

The servants acted as if they had just acquired a master. Chef Ralph, who blushed while cooking after she complimented his delicious food. Mr. Mazarin, the groom and stablekeeper, seemed pleased with how often he had to travel to town now that the mistress was around to buy various things.

Young maids who followed her around whenever they had the chance. Even the once-gruff butler, Gustav, had become quite polite. Recently, when they changed all the servants’ uniforms, she could picture the bright, shining faces that tried to act nonchalant.

A faint smile blossomed on Yuan’s lips.

“The mansion is big, but with so few servants, they’re all struggling too much. I want to help in any way I can. But whenever I try to do something, the butler jumps up like a startled rabbit, and if I so much as lift a finger, the maids glare at me as if they’re ready to pounce. Sometimes, I can’t even tell who is the servant and who is the employer.”

“Haha—.”

Yuan chattered in a slightly cheerful voice.

“While I’m out here, I’m waiting for the Master to go for a walk, but since I think tending to the garden is a hobby, they don’t say anything when I come out every day.”

Lancelot nodded as if he understood, chuckling to himself before glancing up at Yuan, specifically at the windows on the second floor.

The corners of his lips stretched mischievously as he struggled to suppress a smile that was threatening to break free.

So, the one who used to throw a fit whenever the curtains were opened to let in some sunlight was now standing by the window every day, just staring outside.

“However, I think it would be good if the Master came out. Since he was completely pierced through the thigh, if he doesn’t walk regularly, he’ll be limping for quite a while.”

A hint of mischief appeared on Lancelot’s face as he crossed his arms and looked up at the second floor.

“Have you been to the west annex?”

“The west annex?”