STVWDTD Chapter 31

Obsession Summons Curses

"Hard to say whether you were caught or struck," the man said.

His eyes narrowed languidly. He leaned against the sofa's backrest and crossed his legs.

Such leisure—impossible to believe he'd just clutched her hand with desperate urgency moments before.

"Though it seems you don't know why yourself."

True. She had no idea why her body carried a death sentence. She'd assumed it was simply the fate of a one-line extra character, but thinking about it now—wasn't that completely nonsensical?

Her death held none of the narrative weight of a villainess's demise. She was less than the dregs of a plot thread. That's why there'd been no cure.

Until Noel told her, she couldn't even find an answer. The physician hadn't even identified what was killing her.

"Your hand."

The man extended his large hand, demanding hers.

Diana regarded him with suspicion.

"I won't do anything untoward. Don't worry. My descendant is watching with burning eyes."

One hand still gripped the dagger she hadn't released. If necessary, she was prepared to stab even Rodrick's body.

Diana placed her hand lightly atop his. The man rose from his seat and led her to stand before the full-length mirror.

"What—"

The man turned her to face away from the mirror and smiled with pleasant satisfaction. The sunny grin didn't suit Rodrick's face—too gentle for someone promising not to harm her.

"Would you remove your clothes?"

"Excuse me?"

What kind of slapped-worthy comment is that? Diana's brows drew together as she looked up at him. Simultaneously, the man's split lip twitched.

"Calm down, descendant. I'm not going to touch her!"

The man conversed again with Rodrick in muttered half-dialogue. Rodrick's fist rose toward his own face, then lowered.

"I'm simply going to show her directly."

As if nursing a headache, the man raked his fingers through his bangs, sweeping them back. Yet his dark blue eyes remained fixed on Diana.

"Now then, cover the front and show me your back. Why, plenty of dress designs bare the back, don't they? This degree of exposure hardly counts as exposure at all."

'Excuse me, ancestor. That style went out of fashion ages ago, you know?'

Diana sighed and obeyed, pulling down her thin nightgown.

As she began loosening the front ties, she pressed the dagger's point beneath the man's chin.

"Try anything improper and I won't let it slide. Understood, ancestor?"

Her slightly upturned eyes curved with mischief. The man huffed a laugh at the sight—like an impudent cat.

As she clutched the loosened front and lowered the fabric at her lower back, the man shook his head slowly.

His descendant, Angela's descendant—neither proved easy prey. He rather liked that. They didn't seem the type to fall readily.

She gathered her long violet-tinted hair and swept it forward over one shoulder. The mirror revealed her pale lower back.

An elegant line curved to tempt any man's hand. Even the hollows of her shoulder blades invited touch with seductive grace.

'Mm, control yourself, descendant.'

Flesh proved more honest than spirit.

A man and woman together in a rain-swept room. At arm's reach distance, the man had to master himself.

One misstep and Rodrick would seize control of the body.

"Well then, shall we begin?"

The man raised his hands swiftly. Dark blue mana gathered in his bare palms, free of rings or gloves.

"It's Angela's curse."

When she looked at him with curiosity, the man explained kindly.

"Excessively accumulated mana passed down through generations as madness."

But why? This ancestor seemed to have accepted the curse by his own will rather than against it.

"You seem puzzled. Hmm. Because I didn't care what it was, so long as it came from Angela? Because if it was hers, I could accept even excruciating agony sweetly? I thought it good—being joined together, even like this."

What resided in those dark blue eyes was viscous obsession.

She wanted to ask: Then what crime did your descendants commit?

"What continues accumulating in this body is Angela's power."

But the mad ancestor probably wouldn't hear anything she said.

"Isn't it absolutely lovely?"

Your descendants go mad and die because of that curse, you know? Would it even be fortunate if death were the only outcome?

Rodrick's death created massive ripples. The family itself boarded a train to destruction thanks to Felice, driven mad by vengeance.

Meanwhile, the villainess's terminally ill younger sister had zero impact even in death.

The villainess dies, the mastermind eldest brother goes insane. At this rate, our family's headed for complete ruin too.

To save their lives, she'd need to preserve the family as well. Ha. Life. Nothing about it is easy.

"This will hurt somewhat. Bear with it."

Gasp! Caught in distracted thoughts, Diana swallowed air at sudden pain.

The man who'd supported her as if cradling her in his arms placed his hand in the air above her lower back, maintaining distance.

"S-stop...!"

Diana's trembling hands clenched his clothes tightly. She squeezed her eyes shut against sharp pain that raced up her spine to her scalp, making every hair stand on end.

'I don't like it. It feels bad.'

'Every direct Beatus must pass through this gateway.'

'I want to go. Brother said he's waiting for me.'

'Ha, your brother? He has no interest in you whatsoever. Don't worry. Your sister went through this too. You won't die.'

Bound in rattling chains, she was small. Not yet an adult, she stood atop a magic circle.

When someone's iron grip positioned her at the circle's center, light flashed—and like severed film, everything went dark.

"Hah."

When the pain subsided, she slid down as if melting.

The man knelt on one knee, following her descent.

"Vicious."

The man wiped Diana's sweat-soaked forehead. His touch was gentle, but his eyes were cold enough to freeze.

"Thoroughly hidden. So thoroughly you don't even know you became a sacrifice. Made to think you simply fell ill."

She lifted her head at his words. A tear pooled from pain dropped—plop—pitifully from Diana's face.

The man indicated the mirror with his chin. Diana's gaze naturally turned to the reflection behind her.

Diana's eyes widened impossibly.

Across skin that had been smooth and unmarked, an unbelievable number of whip scars and cursed sigils were now carved.

Felice's face was dark as he surveyed the wrecked room.

He glanced at Irin, who sat collapsed in blank shock, then ordered the butler who'd followed him.

"Clean this. Change out the staff entirely."

"Understood."

"Is the annex cleared?"

"The guest rooms have been prepared."

Felice grabbed Irin's wrist and relocated to the annex. Neither spoke throughout their walk down the dark castle corridor.

"You'll confine yourself here for the time being."

Felice deposited her on the bed—practically threw her there. Irin, who'd been sitting in absent-minded stupor, seemed to regain awareness and quickly clutched Felice's pant leg.

"B-brother. I'm sorry. I was rude."

"You already crossed the line."

Yes. The line was crossed the moment she barged uninvited into his room. She'd dared trade on the duchy's name, even dragging in bat-like vassals' daughters. That could have been overlooked. Yes, it could have been forgiven. But she shouldn't have provoked Rodrick's temper.

"Since Brother knows, this won't end quietly."

"What did I do wrong?"

Irin, who'd been trembling with delicate, pitiful affect, lifted her head and spoke again. Her eyes brimmed with venom.

A crooked smile settled at Felice's lips. The normally gentle Felice vanished entirely in that thoroughly delinquent expression.

"Are you really asking because you don't know? Did you think I wouldn't know what rumors you spread among the servants?"

"What does that matter?"

Felice's upturned mouth corners gradually descended. The more Irin continued, the darker his face became.

"Knight Commander Rodrick is practically an abandoned son, isn't he? You're the family's real power, brother. You'll become the duke soon. What's some mere knight commander! What's that woman that you take her side!"

"Watch your mouth. Unless you want an ugly death."

Felice's eyes flashed knife-sharp blue.

"Real power? Don't make me laugh. If Brother weren't here, I wouldn't even step forward like this. This family stands because Brother holds it up."

Irin's expression changed at the ominous atmosphere. No. She couldn't ruin this relationship. Times like this required submission. To survive, she'd do anything. She had to appease him.

"B-brother. I misspoke!"

"Wait for your punishment."

Felice shoved away Irin's grip on his pant leg and left, slamming the door—bang—roughly behind him.

"Brother!"

Rattle. Rattle. No matter how she tried the door, the lock from outside wouldn't open. Even when she pounded until her clenched fists bled, no answer came.

"Why! Why did this happen?!"

Irin irritably clutched her dress skirt. The expensive gown crumpled pitifully in hands clenched tight enough to show bone.

The room contained only basic furniture—utterly bare.

"Why should I be treated like this?!"

Her hand, reaching to smash what few furnishings existed in tantrum, hesitated.

Tap— Tap— What she'd assumed was rain—that small sound turned her head toward the window.

Caw—

A bird disguised as one of the North's scout crows was tapping the window with its beak. Irin went pale and rushed over, throwing the window open in haste.

The black bird circled the room once before landing on the empty table.

"What brings you here without prior contact?"

Irin's voice was thick with tension.

[Foolish, foolish child.]

Irin knelt before the bird and bowed her head.

[The tablet I gave you has been destroyed.]

"Th-that was unavoidable... It shattered before I could do anything."

[This is why I hate simple-minded children. Even when given power, they can't use it properly. Is it because you're stupid?]

"I'm sorry. If you give me something else, I can truly take control of this family. Please believe me."

[You already seem to have failed. What were my orders?]

"Become the Schwartz matriarch."

[Yes. You couldn't even accomplish that simple thing.]

"I succeeded in driving out the Schwartz daughter, didn't I?! I can do it. Just give me one more chance!"

[Making such a fuss over one mere daughter. You should have had Felice Schwartz eating from your hand.]

Irin's eyes moved frantically. Only one thought filled her mind: she couldn't be abandoned here.

"Just a little more effort and he would have fallen! Really! If there'd been no interference, if not for that woman, I would have succeeded. The tablet breaking—that's all her fault too!"

[That woman?]

When the black bird showed interest, Irin nodded vigorously.

"Yes, Beatus's youngest daughter is here."

Caw— The crow-disguised black bird cried with pleasure.

[Haha. Beatus's youngest is there, you say.]

"Yes! If you want, more information—"

[No.]

Irin's face, which had been desperately clinging, hardened instantly at the decisive cutting tone.

[I'll use a different pawn. You're no longer needed.]

"B-but! What should I do from now on...!"

Unable to continue speaking, tears streaming down, the black bird tilted its head as it watched Irin.

[The world isn't that simple. You should have used your head properly.]

The bird, rippling with mana, flapped its wings and rose. At her desperate gestures pleading for mercy, it tapped—tok—lightly at Irin's forehead with its beak.

Then mana spread in enveloping waves as cursed sigils surfaced. All memory of the tablet was erased.

Memory manipulation happened just that simply. Though Irin became a simpleton from excessive mana, that wasn't the black bird's concern.

Looking down at collapsed Irin, the black bird circled the room once more before flying far, far away through the rain toward the capital—the empire's heart.