Curtain call 7

Chapter 7

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Until then, Olivia stood still, her face pale. The Marquis of Ascensio approached her.

She remained calm and composed, even while everyone in the room was hostile toward her. She carried herself with admirable dignity and authority.

"Olivia, you don't look surprised. Did you know the contents of the will?"

"I didn't know."

Olivia pursed her bloodless lips a little, then shook her head.

"If I had known the Count would make such an unjust will, I would have refused."

"I do not think so. Of course, there were many unfortunate things that happened, but Pavel truly considered you his daughter, and you did better than a biological daughter by his lonely side, and you deserve this inheritance."

"I could not be more grateful to the Count, but it is too great an inheritance for me, and it leaves too heavy a burden on Theodore."

Olivia said so calmly and changed the subject.

"By the way, don't you have a letter for me?"

"Alas, yes. Here it is."

Pavel had left several letters with his will. One to Olivia, one to Theodore, one to each of his siblings, and one to the Marquis of Ascensio himself.

Since this was not a legally binding will, the Marquis of Ascensio casually pulled out one of the letters and handed it to Olivia.

She clutched the letter with both hands and bowed respectfully to the Marquis of Ascensio.

"Thank you for your concern."

Olivia turned around, her back to him, colorless.

***

Olivia returned to the small room in the western tower of Lutgard’s main castle that was used by the servants to avoid encountering guests.

Originally, her room had been a beautiful bedroom and sitting room on the same floor as the Count's study. But shortly before the Count's death, she vacated the room, packed her things, and moved into the small room in the west tower.

She was sure the guests wouldn't like it. And given her position, it was a fitting tribute.

"Lady, are you here?"

Maid Mary greeted her with concern.

"How did the will go? I'm sure the master still left you some property, didn't he?"

It was a bit odd to talk about inheritance so soon after her master's death, but Mary was genuinely concerned for Olivia, because she knew that Theodore, who had left home for his mother, would not be willingly to take care of her.

Olivia didn't criticize Mary, but she didn't like the question either, and she answered quietly.

"He has left me more than I deserve."

"What do you mean, undeservedly? You're my master's daughter, and I'm not surprised that he left you so much!"

Mary said excitedly.

She was not the only one who thought so. The servants at Lutgard Castle, and the vassals who had remained at Pavel's side until the end, were all worried about Olivia.

At one time, of course, they were. But when the Countess died, Olivia was still a baby, unable to speak. What responsibility could she have?

Everyone in the castle watched her grow up. From a baby practicing her first steps, to a little girl who doggedly followed Theodore around, trying to make him laugh because she didn't know why she was hated, to a good and kind young lady.

And most of all, she was Pavel's greatest comfort.

Even those who criticized Pavel's loneliness as self-inflicted could not deny that she made him happy. Pavel had lost a son, but gained the loveliest daughter in the world.

Even after he lay dying, Olivia was devoted to him. She cleaned Pavel's body herself, gave him his medication, checked his movements to make sure he didn't develop bedsores, and stayed by his side all night to hold his hand when he moaned in pain.

She always spoke to him in a loving voice, pushed his wheelchair for daily walks, and tried to keep his face as bright as it was when he wasn't sick. It wouldn't have been easy even for his own daughter.

Mary was stern.

"Don't say no or give in, no matter what anyone says! Honestly, what have you done that they haven't? You were the only one who was there for the master when he was ill."

Word was relatives, and at best they came once or twice a year to visit the sick, and they complained about this, that, and the other. Same with Theodore, who didn't even make it to his father’s deathbed.

In Mary's opinion, it was no wonder that Pavel had left everything to Olivia.

Olivia only smiled thinly, seeing her anger instead.

"Thank you for saying that."

"Miss...."

"Don't worry about it. I don't mean to lose anything. Okay, Mary. Now will you go into the kitchen and see that dinner is ready, I've been delayed by the funeral and it needs to be better."

"You must be most grieved, my lady, that you should care for such a thing as this."

Mary spoke regretfully, but she didn't disobey Olivia's orders. It had been several years since Olivia had taken on the role of de facto mistress of the castle, and she was the one who would suffer if she didn't perform well under her.

Now alone with Mary, Olivia glanced down at Pavel's signature on the letter envelope she was holding for a moment before walking over to her desk and pulling out a large envelope, slipping the sealed letter inside and sealing it once more.

She didn’t need to open it, she knew what it said anyway. It would be better to leave it like this and open it when she needed it.

Then she flopped down on the bed, feeling strained, and she was exhausted.

This was the fourth time she had attended Pavel's funeral. It was always the day after his death that she returned to the past, so she hadn't had to deal with the death of the man who was like a father to her four times. Perhaps she should be thankful.

If she had returned a day earlier, she could have seen Pavel one last time, squeezed his hand and sworn to him that she would do better this time, that she would protect what he left behind.

The jewelry box didn't give her that chance. It was sad, but maybe it was because she didn't deserve it, Olivia thought.

Mary and the castle's servants sided with her, but the cold-hearted relatives weren't wrong. Lutgard was wrong, after all, because of her. She did not deserve Pavel's inheritance.

Still, she did not want to refuse the inheritance because it was what she needed to get through what lied ahead. To protect Theodore and Ludgarts, she needed strength, too.

'If I didn't have this heart....'

She clutched her chest as she thought about it. If she didn't have this feeling, if she could at least hide it, she could end it all by living in Ezekiel's clutches.

But it wouldn't be that way.

She thought of Theodore's gaze, flicked at her with a heartlessness that would freeze the sun. The pain of his third death hasn't yet worn off, and his gaze, even when it was tinged with grief and heartbreak, was painful.

It was no wonder he hated her, and in a way, it was a good thing he did.

And yet, she wanted to ask him.

Why did you die for me?

Why did you kiss me?

Why did you commit treason?

It was not the time to be weak-minded, but thinking about it made her heart ache and brought tears to her eyes.

****

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