TEWRIT 58

Episode 58 

Eliano truly wanted to die while being whipped by her father. She had never imagined death could feel like a relief—but the pain had broken her so completely, it felt like the only escape.

What shocked her even more was the fact that she was shocked at all. Why am I even surprised? she wanted to scream at herself.

She already knew—deep down—that her father had never loved her. In her past life, she tried so hard to justify his actions, always hoping for affection. But this life? She had vowed not to make the same mistake.

Still, buried deep inside, that helpless little girl remained. And Eliano hated her. If she could, she would stab that child within her until it was gone.

She should have destroyed that weakness in her past life—but instead, it left scars that haunted her.

Now, she had to face the truth: she had no luck left. She wasn’t strong enough to overcome this suffering. Maybe it was time to accept it—and return to the arms of the gods.

She just wanted the pain to stop.

If she had the strength, she would’ve bitten her tongue clean off and ended it herself. Not like before—not poisoned by her husband, not killed by her father. This time, by her own hand.

She gathered what little strength she had and did it—bit down hard.

The taste of blood filled her mouth.

And then, suddenly…

—”Is the woman I’m looking at… really you, Lady Eliano?”

That voice… that miracle… broke everything.

Even though I was trying to die… my heart rejoiced that he had come.

When Flint held her, the dark world lit up again.

—”You will never lay a hand on my wife again.”

And with just one move, Flint had ended Pamela—without even looking at her.

Was she… so easy to kill? Eliano felt emptier than ever.

And her father? The mighty Duke of Rosana? He was trembling in fear, even wetting himself. She had never seen him so weak.

All her life, she feared him more than any poison or dagger. But now… he was nothing.

Her world shattered again—but differently this time.

In her past life, breaking free left her bloodied and hurt. But this time, the broken pieces didn’t even touch her. Her mind was strangely clear.

And Flint’s warmth? The strength in his arms?

She realized it now: he wasn’t a threat. He was a shield.

The comfort she felt… it was deeper than anything her former husband gave her.

It was overwhelming.

But it was also shameful.

Yes—she had thought of asking Flint for help. But she didn’t want him to see her like that. She didn’t want to be a woman cast out by her family, with nowhere to go.

She knew men like that eventually lost respect. Even if they pitied you at first, they’d treat you differently over time.

So she planned to hide it. To keep pretending she was the cherished Rosana princess—just until she had a child and secured her place as the Grand Duchess.

Later, when everything was settled, she would tell him the truth. Calmly, carefully.

That she was never the noble daughter everyone thought she was. That she was born outside of marriage, locked away and raised like a caged animal by a cruel man.

She was willing to accept any punishment for lying. If he despised her later, she would accept it. That was her plan.

But now—Flint knew. And in the worst way possible.

—”No one touches my wife again. There won’t be a second warning.”

Those words echoed in her chest, tearing her apart.

Because she knew what they meant.

After his tense conversation with Heraithe, Flint headed back toward the bedroom.

He had already seen Eliano—but he wanted to see her again.

But first, he had to face… the chaos.

His vassals had exploded the moment they learnt the ball was canceled.

“Why is the grand ball canceled, Your Grace?”

“Weren’t you going to officially introduce your lady tonight?”

“Wasn’t tonight when you choose your bride?!”

“Don’t tell us you’re not marrying her! That noble lady you spent the night with—surely she’s going to be Grand Duchess, right?!”

Flint looked exhausted.

He had always known his vassals were overly involved in his personal life, but this was too much.

“My lord!” one shouted. “I cannot serve anyone else as our Grand Duchess but the lady who saw stars with you!”

Another cried, “We’ve already made up our minds! She’s noble, graceful, and worthy!”

“You must not let her go! She’s a once-in-a-lifetime match!”

Flint nearly sighed aloud. How had they even seen Eliano?

They were so desperate, it was comical.

Even if the woman had been low-born or poor, they were ready to raise her up as their lady—anything but Flint dying a lonely bachelor. That would be the end of the North!

The elders remembered how Flint’s father, Maximilian Howard, had only loved one woman—his aide, Agnes Russell—and ignored all others. They feared Flint would do the same.

This time, though, there was hope.

Flint had spent the night with a woman. That was huge.

“She’s perfect, Your Grace! It’s Lady Eliano Rosana, right? We can’t imagine a more fitting Grand Duchess!”

At the mention of Eliano’s name, Flint’s face darkened.

The other vassals gasped.
“Eliano?! As in… the Rosana Lady?”
“The first daughter? That Eliano? Why her?!”

Seeing Flint’s mood turn icy, Oliver quickly shouted,

“Silence! You’re standing before your Grand Duke!”

But a few bold northerners pressed on.

“Your Grace, is it true?”

“Is it Lady Rosana? Please, tell us.”

“If so, I’ll start drafting the engagement papers right now!”

“But… will Rosana House even allow this?”

Another added, “Did he… kidnap her?!”

Flint sighed sharply.

“Everything you’ve said is true. Now be silent.”

He looked them in the eye.

“She and I have already completed all necessary steps. Her family’s approval is not needed. And she is here in the manor, resting. Speak no more of this.”

His voice was cold, final.

The room went still. But their minds were racing.

Already married? Without approval?
Is she really inside the Grand Duke’s bedroom?!

“Did he really… kidnap her?”

The older vassals were in shock.

One grabbed his neck like he might faint. Oliver rubbed his temple, already bracing for the next fire to put out.

In the manor’s private chamber, Flint sat alone in an armchair, his face grim.

Eliano’s condition was far worse than he had imagined. Her clothes were torn and soaked in blood. Her body was battered beyond belief.

The family doctor had looked horrified.

And then… he said something that made Flint freeze.

—”She… may have attempted suicide.”

Her tongue had been torn apart.

They had immediately called for a healing priest—and thankfully, one had come quickly.

Because the woman in danger was Lady Eliano Rosana, a noble with deep faith, the High Priest himself, Priest Phiaton, arrived to help.

—“Who would do such a thing to our holy sister?” the priest had asked, his voice shaking with anger.

He began healing her, starting with her tongue.

After a few sessions, Eliano’s color returned slightly.

Flint sat in silence.

Why didn’t she tell me sooner? he thought.

It wasn’t anger. It was regret.

He knew it must have been painful to talk about. She was proud. Graceful. She wouldn’t want him to see her suffering.

And honestly? He wouldn’t want to be seen that way either.

He understood. He had to understand. It was the only way to keep his rage in check.

He wasn’t the kind of man to blame the victim.

But his mind kept spinning. Understanding clashed with frustration.

At least she had trusted him enough to send her maid for help.

That meant something.

It meant everything.

He had to stop there—he couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him.

Just then, someone knocked.

“Your Grace, it’s Gilbert.”

“Later,” Flint replied, not bothering to hide his fatigue.

“I’m sorry. But… the Duchess’s condition has worsened.”

Gilbert didn’t even finish speaking. Flint was already on his feet, hurrying to her side.