To My First Love, With Regret - 57

The doctor lowered his face, a mask of deep-seated anguish.

—I know. It is an incurable disease, one that can never be healed.

—Doctor, I don’t mean to insult you, but stories like this should be taken to a physician.

—This is not a sickness a physician can treat. Only the one person capable of perfectly dominating and subduing me can offer me salvation.

Goosebumps prickled across Eve’s skin at the sheer madness in his words.

—I have wandered my entire life searching for such a person, but none were sufficient. Even Chantal was not a perfect master. But Lady Evelyn, you are different.

What this man was speaking of was his own bizarre fetish. In the end, he had come here harboring lust. Eve’s face flushed with a sense of profound insult.

—Doctor, I don’t wish to hear another word. Please leave.

—I know how vulgar this must sound to you, My Lady. Please, I beg of you, hear me out before you decide.

The doctor snapped his head up and rose to his feet. He rounded the desk that stood between them and approached. Instinctively, Eve recoiled, her hand hovering over the call bell.

Don’t you dare lay a finger on me.

But the doctor didn’t touch even the hem of her clothes. He collapsed at her feet, kneeling, clasping his hands together like a sinner seeking a final mercy from God.

—Lady, you are a true Queen.

He looked straight up into her eyes. A longing bordering on madness burned in his pupils—the gaze of a man who had finally discovered the master he had spent a lifetime searching for—. It was utterly repulsive.

—I’m not just talking about yesterday or today. In truth, the day we first met at the bottom of the cliff, you already displayed the temperament of a Queen. Even in the moment you were stripped of your power, you never lost that nobility.

It was clearly meant as praise. To Eve’s ears, however, it sounded like a perverted confession—that he had felt a thrill while peeping at her moment of most terrible humiliation. It was sickening—.

—You are the only cure I have waited for my entire life. Please, My Lady, make me yours and save me from this wretched disease.

—Why should I save the man who cast me into hell? Stop this nauseating talk and get out at once.

—You are right. I am a sinner. By serving the wrong masters, I have committed an unpardonable sin against my true Queen.

Eve barely suppressed the urge to strike the monster’s face. He confessed to his sins, yet it was no apology. He wasn’t repenting; he was merely lamenting his mistake in choosing a ‘wrong master.’

—Watching you judge Chantal today, I realized: my salvation lies not in forgiveness, but in absolute obedience to you. Lady, please, use me as your tool. Punish me, exploit me, move me according to your will. That is the only path to my atonement.

The tragedy that had carved out her heart—the theft of her family’s entire legacy, the loss of her son—had been reduced to a mere stage for this man to satisfy his twisted desires. Could there be any greater insult?

Eve’s hand, raised high to strike the cheek of this man who stood tall seeking salvation rather than judgment, stopped in mid-air.

…Wait. Absolute obedience? Use him as a tool?

These were exactly what Eve needed most right now.

There was only one reason Eve had married Owen Kallas: to reclaim the Kentrell estate embezzled by Robert Kallas.

Everything the man had stolen would have been inherited by the doctor, the sole heir. She had consulted a lawyer, but the conclusion was that even with a lawsuit, the chances of winning were slim. A meticulous swindler would have either disguised the theft as legal or laundered the money beyond tracking.

Perhaps the man had pitied Eve in her desperate search, or perhaps it was a cruel joke; he had suggested, almost in passing:

—Marrying the heir might be the easiest and most certain way.

In her desperation, Eve couldn’t just brush it off as a joke.

Power follows the status of a legal spouse. It is only natural for a husband to give his wife power of attorney and let her access bank accounts at will.

Eve’s original plan was to forge a power of attorney to check the doctor’s accounts and search his office or safe to track down the stolen assets.

But what if this man offered up the embezzled wealth to his ‘master’ of his own accord? All that dangerous labor would become unnecessary.

She didn’t know if he was truly that simple and stupid, but there was no harm in trying. Besides, hadn’t she already sacrificed her own marriage like a rotted straw to clutch at? She would do anything if it meant taking back what was stolen.

Eve extended the hand she had originally raised to reject him. The eyes of the fanatic glittered. Owen Kallas burst into tears as if he had truly been saved, grabbing her hand and attempting to kiss the back of it in worship.

CRACK!

With the sound of flesh splitting, the doctor’s glasses flew toward the wall and his head snapped to the side.

—When did I ever give you permission to kiss me?

—I have committed a mortal sin, My Queen.

He was terrified of his master, yet like a beast that had finally found its way home, he could not hide his joy.

—Get down.

Owen Kallas prostrated himself at her feet like a dog, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment. Once he had assumed a posture of total submission, Eve rose and approached him slowly.

The sharp tip of her stiletto ground down upon the head of the man trembling with ecstasy. Eve’s red lips curled into a sharp arc. It was the smile of a gambler who had finally found her winning hand.

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The sun had risen and set seven times, yet Tony was still tethered to the mansion.

His grounding, which was supposed to be lifted today, had been extended by three days due to his unauthorized outing on the very first day.

—Blood types are determined by genetic factors inherited from each parent. For instance, since Your Grace is Type AB, it means you received the A factor and the B factor from each of your parents, respectively.

While Dr. Kallas’s explanation drifted into one ear, Tony’s eyes were fixed on the sea outside the window. Behind him, a stern, low voice offered a quiet scolding.

—Tony, focus on the lesson.

Lately, Eve had been following Tony to his lessons to keep watch. This was his punishment for sneaking out and returning late without a word.

Eve handed out a sentence for every crime. She was practically a judge. And the only prisoner the Honorable Judge Evelyn Sherwood ever seemed to sentence was young Anthony Sherwood.

Tony stared at his textbook and let out a heavy sigh. This mansion, which was a paradise for adults, was nothing but a prison to him.

I want to grow up fast.

When the final lesson of the day finally ended, ‘free time’ arrived, though the word ‘free’ hardly felt appropriate. After all, the freedom to go outside was still forbidden.

—What are you going to do now?

Eve approached him as he was putting his textbooks and notebooks back on the shelf. Feeling grumpy, Tony retorted curtly.

—It’s a secret.

—Do you want to play a game of dice with me?

That was actually a bit tempting.

—Only if the loser has to grant the winner’s wish.

—Lifting your grounding is off the table.

—Tch….

Just as he was grumbling and turning to head toward the game room where the dice set was kept, a rough engine roar cut across the garden from outside the window.

It was a military vehicle. And there was only one person who could drive a military vehicle through the mansion’s main gates.

As Ethan appeared through the rear door opened by the driver, Tony’s eyes sparkled with blind adoration. The boy grabbed Eve’s hand and began to plead.

—Let’s invite Major Fairchild to play with us!

—He’s a busy man with work to do.

—He’s on his way back from work right now!

Eve swallowed a weary sigh. She—and Chantal—had told him countless times not to associate with that man, but Tony never listened.

Whenever Ethan was in sight, Tony would drop everything and run to him. He constantly invited him to the dinner table, causing the adults daily bouts of indigestion. Even when the man wasn’t around, the boy talked about ‘Major Fairchild’ so incessantly that Ethan Fairchild haunted Eve even in his absence.

Chantal, trembling with anxiety, had eventually come to a decision that was quite unlike a typical ‘leech.’

—I want to stay in Lavinia with Tony until the war is over.

Demanding a luxury apartment in the capital of Lavinia along with living expenses was very much like her, though. Still, Eve was willing to let her ‘suck blood’ this one time.

However, Eve was worried about sending Tony off with just the two of them. Yet, Eve couldn’t follow them either. The betrayal she experienced on the day she left home and lost everything had made it impossible for her to step foot outside the mansion again.

Her dilemma ended as quickly as it had begun. Tony stubbornly refused to go. The child’s mind was entirely consumed by the Silverbolt, the Peregrine, and the hero who had introduced him to it all—Major Fairchild.