One Day My Sister Died - chapter 42

**Chapter 42: Do You Even Like Me?**

The melancholy passed quickly.

Yuan, holding a small shovel, began helping diligently, but then Oliver, staggering as he walked, veered off and hid behind a tall fir tree, panting heavily.

‘He doesn’t want me to see him die.’

‘There’s that kind of death, too.’

Henna quickly ran toward Oliver, fearing he might run away again and they’d have to search through the white forest.

Yuan, watching Oliver trying to leave, acknowledged that Claude’s words weren’t entirely wrong.

‘That kind of death exists, but you can at least say goodbye before departing on a journey where you’ll never be seen again.’

Oliver, with no strength left to run, collapsed into Henna’s warm embrace.

His unfocused eyes blinked slowly.

Yuan smiled painfully as she watched Oliver, who had now quietly nestled in Henna’s arms, and wrapped Claude’s robe, which he had secretly grabbed from the laundry room, tightly around Oliver.

“Oh, Oliver!”

Oliver reacted immediately. He sniffed frantically, let out a few faint squeals, and buried his nose into the robe.

‘He didn’t really want to run away. He wanted to die in his master’s arms, looking at him.’

Yuan’s lips twisted in sorrow. Henna’s eyes were already too swollen to cry any further.

Yuan sensed that Oliver’s death was imminent.

The faint sound Oliver made began to fade, and even Henna could see the light disappearing from his eyes as the sun slowly set.

Together with Henna, Yuan sheltered Oliver from the rain as if cradling a dying dog and whispered to him as he drew his last breath.

“I’ll make sure to clean your home again.”

Once your master’s face is cleansed, and when he brightens up like the prince who once loved you so dearly, I’ll scold him for what he did.

As if understanding, Oliver made a weak squeal once more.

He lifted his head slightly, as if trying to meet Yuan’s gaze, but in the end, buried his head back in the robe.

Feeling the warmth of Henna and Yuan’s comforting pats, and smelling the scent of his long-lost master, the light in Oliver’s eyes slowly faded.

“Your master said he wanted to be by your side, too.”

Yuan whispered as if trying to protect the flickering flame of a candle with both hands.

“He loves you, Oliver.”

With a barely audible sigh, the dog finally closed his eyes.

Henna, who had been suppressing her sobs, suddenly let out a wail.

Yuan, too, scrunched up his face, lowering his head.

The once proud and majestic dog, once known as the wolf of Claude Yufrees, now seemed so small, wrapped in the soft robe.

***

The butler smiled warmly as he carried Claude’s dinner upstairs.

Thanks to Claude faithfully following his and Lancelot’s advice to make up for what he couldn’t do at night by being kinder during the day, the days had become quite peaceful lately.

‘The mistress is truly a blessing. The Master should treat her better.’

Compared to the days when he would frown at even the slightest breeze, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Claude, who had finally begun taking on some responsibilities, like giving out-of-place orders to enjoy the warm sunlight and tend to the garden, appeared to be in a better state than before.

Gustav could see emotions hidden beneath his usually stoic face.

Sometimes it was just a brief, affectionate glance that touched his heart like a sudden summer rain, or little gestures, like lightly tapping Yuan’s forehead or head without hurting her, his lips curling into a smile—proof that their relationship had grown closer.

‘And the mistress is so kind hearted as well.’

Even though she had caused quite a stir without the Master’s permission, she still made sure to ask for his dinner before leaving.

Although it was difficult for the butler, who had to prepare the meal himself after the chef ran off, he couldn’t help but feel deep gratitude whenever he saw how attentively Yuan took care of Claude.

‘The Master should be grateful, too.’

Despite having such a beautiful and kind bride, he still wouldn’t take her out for a single walk!

Gustav, who had grown old without a wife of his own to hold, simply couldn’t understand it.

‘If the Master gets angry because of Oliver, I’ll have to side with the mistress. It’s not her fault for being so kind hearted. She could’ve just sent the servants or guards to fetch Oliver, but she went herself.’

After knocking a few times, the butler was about to enter Claude’s bedroom but was startled to find him standing in the same spot as before, looking out the window.

“Master?”

The butler, Gustav, called out to him several times.

But Claude didn’t respond.

The somber look in his eyes as he gazed outside didn’t show the anger that Gustav had expected from his wife going out without permission.

“Master…”

Claude just looked empty and deeply sorrowful.

Moreover, it seemed as though he had been clenching his jaw for a long time, as his jawbone was visibly tense.

The butler knew he should leave in such an atmosphere, but for some reason, he felt that he shouldn’t leave Claude alone. So, he stayed, watching over him until the dinner he brought up had gone cold.

That evening, Yuan finally returned, drenched from the rain and snow, just before the sun fully set.

***

Snow had started to mix with the drizzling rain.

By the time Yuan reached the black mansion, soaked to the bone, she paused for a moment to steady her dizzy head.

Her mind was cluttered with thoughts.

Her head throbbed, and her neck ached. It felt like she was on the verge of catching a bad cold the next day.

A warm bath followed by drying off by the fireplace with a hot cup of tea would feel wonderful, but since it was already late, she was in a hurry.

She wiped off the water from her face and hair roughly, thinking that she should quickly put Claude to bed, then return to her room to bathe.

When she opened Claude’s bedroom door, he was still standing at the window in the same position as she had seen him in the afternoon.

Yuan paused for a moment, standing on his long shadow that stretched to her feet.

For some reason, tears welled up in her eyes.

‘He’s sad too.’

The sadness flowing down Claude’s broad back was undeniable.

There was no way he wouldn’t be affected by Oliver’s death.

Yuan removed her wet cloak and draped it over a nearby chair. She then quietly walked over and cautiously wrapped her arms around his lonely-looking back.

For once, he didn’t flinch at her touch. Nor did he push her away.

“I gave Oliver a proper burial,” Yuan reported, trying to hide the tremor in her voice from the cold.

She spoke to the man who must have watched her run off to find Oliver earlier.

“Oliver didn’t die alone.”

“…”

“Henna and I said only kind words to him. We told him he was the best dog in the world.”

Yuan swallowed the rising tears.

“We told him his master loved him and would always love and remember him.”

“…”

“Was I wrong?”

Claude remained silent for a long time.

Yuan thought he was mourning quietly.

‘Let him have time to grieve.’

“Ma’am!”

The butler, who had been frantically searching for her after spotting her from the lobby, finally returned, carrying a pile of thick blankets larger than himself.

“Ma’am! You’re soaked through! You’ll catch a cold.”

“I’m fine. It actually feels refreshing.”

“It’s winter rain! The colds around here are no joke.”

Only then did Claude’s head finally turn toward her, at the mention of her being wet.

His heavy gaze slowly trailed over her pale lips.

Amidst the sound of firewood crackling in the fireplace, which the butler had hastily lit, the sound of Yuan quietly preparing tea filled the room.

The butler left, and as the sun had fully set, not even the sound of the servants could be heard.

It was only then that Claude, watching Yuan’s busy hands from afar, finally spoke.

“Just leave for tonight.”

“Are you worried about me?”

Yuan was drying her wet hair with the towel the butler had brought.

She blinked in confusion, and Claude’s sunken eyes twitched ever so slightly.

“Are you really planning to spend the night looking like that?”

“Oh.”

Yuan knew well that Claude was someone who valued cleanliness.

No wonder he found her appearance bothersome, looking like a drowned rat.

She quickly stood up and grabbed her wet cloak.

“I’ll wash up and come back.”

“You…”

Before Yuan could finish packing and leave the bedroom, Claude stepped away from the window and approached her with heavy footsteps.

A long, stretched black shadow passed over the fireplace and extended to the bed.

Claude Yufrees was clearly not in a good mood right now.

Whether it was because Oliver had died, because she was wet, or for some other reason.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“…What do you mean?”

“You could just do your part and be comfortable. Why—?”

He paused for a moment, having poured out those words like a flood.

The flickering light from the crackling fireplace reflected various colors in his eyes.

“Why go this far?”

“How many times do you have to ask? I’m your wife. We’re family—”

“No one enjoys being in pain.”

Claude repeated with a gloomy smile.

“No one enjoys being in pain.”

The two pairs of eyes clashed sharply in the air.

“That much doesn’t mean anything to me—”

“Don’t say it’s okay. ‘This is nothing.’ Stop with that nonsense.”

Claude pointed out what she often said.

Her eyes, filled with sadness, loneliness, and confusion, twisted her neat eyebrows in multiple directions as they shook.

“I know you’re tolerant, but what’s the reason for putting up with me at night like this?”

It seemed as if pieces of emotions rarely seen in Claude were flying out in all directions.

Yuan stared up at him in a daze.

It was the first time she had seen Claude express emotions so quietly yet intensely.

“Your taste is as unique as your personality, huh?”

“What do you mean…?”

“Or maybe you really are completely nonsensical.”

His intense gaze, which seemed a bit angry, bore down on Yuan.

Yuan’s eyes shimmered like waves.

“Maybe you actually like me.”

Surprisingly, his darkened eyes were shaking ever so slightly.