Chapter 13

"You shouldn't have acted that way, Veyna."

Wayne's voice is calm, almost distant, as if he is merely stating an unfortunate fact rather than addressing the broken girl in his arms.

Veyna barely heard him. Her half-open eyes flutters weakly, her vision hazy from exhaustion and pain. Every inch of her body aches, her skin raw and burning from the merciless lashing. Even breathing felt like a struggle.

She is buried in Wayne’s arms, her frail form presses against him as he carries her through the dimly lit halls toward her room. His grip is firm but not comforting, as though he is holding something fragile yet burdensome.

"But now," he continued, his tone unreadable, "it’s all crumbled to pieces, our family’s reputation… and yours as well."

Veyna’s cracked lips parts slightly, but no words came out. She doesn't have the strength to argue, to protest, to defend herself.

What is there to say?

Everything had already been taken from her.

Wayne pushes open the door to her room and steps inside, his hold on Veyna unwavering. He carries her to the couch, carefully laying her down before turning to her maid.

“Prepare a bath and bring the medicine,” he ordered. His voice was calm, but there was an edge of authority that left no room for refusal. The maid bows quickly and rushes out, leaving them alone.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Wayne turns back to Veyna. Without hesitation, he reaches for the hem of her tattered gown, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he prepares to undress her.

The moment Veyna realized what he is doing, a weak surge of defiance shot through her.

With what little strength she had left, she clutches the top of her gown, gripping it desperately to keep him from pulling it off.

“Leave…”

Her voice is barely a whisper, fragile and strained, but filled with raw desperation.

Wayne freezes.

"I was going to help you? Is there something wrong?"

Veyna glares at him. He knows what he was about to do is so wrong yet he tries to remain innocent with a facade of a caring cousin.

"Leave. Now."

Veyna’s voice, though weak, carried a firm edge.

Wayne’s face darkened at her defiance.

"You’re not really in a position to order me around, you know," he murmured, his tone dangerously smooth.

Then, just as quickly, his lips curled into something resembling amusement. "But alright~"

He stands up, but the unsettling expression on his face made Veyna’s skin crawl. There is something behind his eyes. Something she couldn’t quite place. A mix of emotions that send a shiver down her spine.

Slowly, he leans down, his thumb grazing her cheek in a touch far too gentle for the cruelty he had just shown.

"I want to protect you from any harm, Veyna," he murmured, his voice dripping with sickening sweetness. "But that’s going to be difficult if you keep acting so hard to get…"

Then, as if the moment had never happened, he pulls away, his fingers leaving a ghostly trace on her skin.

A saccharine smile stretches across his lips, too perfect, too false.

Without another word, he turns and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him.

Veyna feels more relaxed after he left. Though the pain on her back is making her losing her sanity.

The maid, Marie, came back bringing bandages and oinment. She looks up to Veyna. Her expression mixed with sympathy and sorrow.

You dont have to look at me like that, Marie... It is look heavy for me to bear.

Marie helps Veyna walk to the bathroom, supporting her gently. With careful hands, she removes Veyna’s dress, now stained with her own blood. Then, ensuring her safety, Marie guides Veyna into the tub.

The warm water feels like an electric current against Veyna’s skin, sending tingling sensations through her body. The blood on her back has already dried, hardened by the coldness of her freezing skin. As the water swirls around her, the ache in her body lingers, but the warmth offers a fleeting sense of relief.

She exhales loudly as she rests her head against the edge of the tub, her fingers gently massaging her scalp.

Everything that happened just now wasn’t unfamiliar to her. She had endured this kind of abuse and mistreatment ever since the day her parents were laid to rest. She was just 15.

Even with all her skill in swordsmanship, she still couldn’t escape the fear that paralyzed her on the spot.

She lifts her head, resting her elbow on the edge of the tub. Her eyes darken, shadows flickering within them. Dark thoughts flashes through her mind.

If only I could erase them from existence…

Once I rise as the next Marquis, I will surely, surely make them suffer.

She leans the side of her head against her hand, which rests on the edge of the tub.

Her mind replays what happened just moments ago. The way Wayne touched her. It wasn’t comforting. It was possessive, obsessive. His gaze held a dark hunger, a silent declaration that he wanted her for himself and no one else.

Winter Stone... They say it has a charm of its own, drawing in those with weak minds and greedy hearts, making them crave it beyond reason.

Veyna places a hand on her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Does that mean... I have the same charm?

“Hm…” She hums softly, lost in thought.

That explains why Henry and even Wayne showed that kind of obsession toward me.

Marie watches Veyna lost in her deep thoughts. She get closer to her.

"My lady, would you allow me to clean the wounds on your back?"

Veyna glances at her and thinks for a moment.

"Sure."

Marie smiles in relief that she allows her.

Marie grabs a soft towel and starts to wipe Veyna's back carefully and gently, trying not to hurt her.

Veyna closes her eyes and endures the pain.

"My lady..."

"Hm?" Veyna replies shortly.

"I wish you the happiest life... where no one will never hurt you ever again and a life where you ll be loved and cherished."

Marie's words caught her off guard. That was something unexpected coming from a maid who never exchanged more than three sentences every time they had a conversation.

Despite that, Veyna chuckles under her breath.

I never imagined someone will ever wish a blessed life for me but...

It wasn't that bad.

"Thank you, Marie... ". A simple 'thank you', the same thing she always said to her, the only words she could offer time and time again.

Somehow, this time, it feels more like a farewell.

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