When the Villains Unite - Chapter 15; Part 4

Wordlessly, I picked myself up and walked toward them. Damian reached out a hand to steady me as I wobbled, but I ignored it and slipped my arm around his waist.

“Danger…”

The hilt of his sword smoothly slid out of its white sheath with a ‘hiss.’ It was heavier than I expected, even if it was a chunk of iron, so I had to hold the hilt with both of my hands. The pain from the aftermath of the earlier incident made my left hand weak, though.

I pushed past the men, who nervously looked at me as I dragged the sword alongside me. I approached the Count, who lay motionless in the center of the destruction.

“Release him.”

I snarled and turned to face Bellamy. Black shadows lurked beneath his eyes, indicating his lack of sleep last night. His tired, yet sharp, navy blue eyes never left mine, and his body slightly shifted as I moved.

“Let’s get out of here. This is no place for you.”

“…”

No, you know what? This was actually where I was supposed to be, Bellamy. I didn’t realize it until now since it was so well hidden behind the fantasy. I’m just trying to kill the man who has been substituted in my place.

I coldly snorted at his words. He had no intention of breaking his spell.

“Damn it, sis!”

I raised the sword and slammed it down on the Count’s chest, closing my eyes in anticipation of the magical recoil. However, I didn’t bounce off and crash this time. Instead, I heard someone struggling beneath me and the sound of blood spewing. He couldn’t speak with his tongue cut out, but I knew what he would say. For now, I was willing to grant his request.

CRACK!

The spell broke and the sword was stuck in his chest, but it didn’t penetrate deep enough. I quickly withdrew it as the Count groaned and his mangled body twisted away from me. His crimson blood splashed up and obstructed my vision.

Just as I was about to bring the sword down once more, a hand grabbed me. No, they tried to grab it, but their timing was off, so they ended up cut by the blade with a trail of blood running down their hand. Stunned, I dropped the sword.

“Get out. Right now.”

“… No.”

Bellamy tried ordering me to leave with a cold and firm voice. I flinched at his anger but looked him straight in the eye and refused.

His icy gaze fell to my hands, and I realized they were trembling like crazy as blood dripped down the sword.

Even though Bellamy ordered me to stop, I refused to listen as I tried to lift the sword again, but a low voice rang out from behind me.

“What does sister have to gain by killing him in front of us?”

“…”

Did Damian know that this was destroying their psyche?

If I did the same thing they did, it would be self-destruction, but I was willing to do it. They are not monsters and neither am I. I just wanted to show them that.

“… Cry or not.”

“Damian.”

But there was no way they could know about my unspoken truth.

Bellamy called for Damian as if to deter him from speaking harsh words. He ignored the call and shifted, stepping closer to me, eyes holding fire as he glared down at me. Damian reached out and snatched his sword back.

My clumsy grip was easily released the moment he took it back. A brilliant, silver light was reflected in the metal and a golden aura was emitted from the blade.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the blade turned to the Count. The brutal sound of its piercing flesh quickly followed, and the sound of it made me realize it wasn’t an illusion. Before I could make any movements, Damian plunged the sword into the Count’s heart. At that moment, Bellamy covered my eyes with his uninjured hand.

Count Wright’s pained groans, which had been deafening ever since Bellamy’s spell was broken, had now ceased. I wondered what good it would be to keep me from seeing it, but Bellamy must have realized I would be more traumatized by the end if I watched.

The tears finally flowed from my eyes and ran down Bellamy’s hands. It was all over now.

I wondered why it felt so heavy knowing the Count finally died. If only I had realized it sooner. At the very least, I could have found out before I shared my heart with them, and I wouldn’t feel so heartbroken.

I took a step back and Bellamy’s hand helplessly fell to his side.

“I don’t want to go on the trip.”

“…”

“I’m sorry. I need some time.”

I tried to smile, but it didn’t look good with the mixture of tears and blood on my face. I furiously dabbed at it, staining my sleeves. I turned around and walked out of the room, a heavy feeling of devastation washing over me.

I needed time to think.

* * *

Since the Count’s death, I had been avoiding the Orca brothers. It was for the same reason I canceled my trim with them on a whim.

I couldn’t face them now. I was afraid that if I faced them, an unknown anger would rise up in me and I wouldn’t be able to have a rational conversation with them.

The anger was directed toward myself, for that day I had, after all, left the Count’s death in Damian’s hands as Bellamy prevented me from watching. Why had I just let that happen without a fight?

It’s so hard to talk to them about their torture of the Count, especially when it was a projection of their own wounds.

Naturally, then, the Orca brothers didn’t understand the reason for my behavior. They were twisted as much by my actions as by theirs, otherwise, they would have sought me out by now. Even as I avoided them or tried to vent my anger, they showed no interest in me, to the point of neglect. It had been nearly two weeks of such days.

In that time, the bruises on my back have faded in color, and the cuts on my hands are healed. Bellamy still wore a bandage on his right hand, the scar from the sword etched into his palm.

Bellamy looked darker and grimmer than the last time I’d seen him when I stopped by his study a few days ago.

As I stiffened at the sight of him, he seemed about to say something, but he hesitated and turned away. It seemed to me that he, too, was trying to find the meaning of my behavior that day.

Damian, on the other hand, didn’t come home until after midnight. Even after the Crown Prince ordered him to return, Sebastian told me he was drinking heavily lately.

His late arrival has been keeping me awake lately, too. Even though we were in the middle of a cold war, I was worried about him coming home so late. I would read until dawn, only to be relieved to hear the faint sound of his footsteps and then fall asleep.

Today, at two in the morning, while the servants were sleeping, I was reading and waiting for Damian when I felt an intense thirst. It was dark and I couldn’t see, so I slowly made my way down the stairs, holding on to the walls to guide me through the mansion. After drinking a glass of water, I felt myself starting to wake up.

I knew it wouldn’t be long until I felt drowsy again, so I made my way upstairs hoping for Damian to come home soon. However, my steps were interrupted.

As I took a step, I heard the front door of the mansion creak open. I turned my head toward the sound and saw a familiar face I haven’t seen in a long time.

Technically, it had only been two weeks, but I’d never been away from them for that long. It felt like it had been an eternity since I last saw him.

“… Damian.”

He looked at me without saying a word. There was an unfamiliar air surrounding him, and I didn’t know if it was due to the bloodshot eyes or the disheveled knight’s uniform. It was like the last time Damian had lost his cool and let out a stream of cursives, except the alcohol made him seem sensual.

We stared at one another as if time had stopped.

A million questions were lodged in my throat: where and with whom had he been drinking? Why has he been coming home so late? Has he been eating well? But I couldn’t bring myself to ask anything after that day.

We had a problem to solve, and the only way to solve it was to unravel the complex emotions.

I swallowed my questions and wondered what I should say after such a long time. As I pondered, Damian’s smile broke my barely maintained expression.

His smile was as bright as the moonlight shining alone through a window to a dark room. It wasn’t fake; it was genuine, but it set off alarms in my head, telling me to flee.

I was unable to do anything but stare as Damian approached me. He towered over me and I realized it was too late to run.

“You’re not crying today, are you?”

Kofi