ILVH 03

Chapter : 03

“No.”

I wasn’t the least bit ashamed of my answer.

After all, they were the ones who had spoken such unspeakable words first.

Meeting Paul’s gaze over my mother’s shoulder, I responded clearly. His shoulders visibly jerked in surprise.

Seeing his pathetic reaction, I couldn’t help but smirk.

“…”

Mother narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked at me, then turned back to Paul.

Fixing my gaze on him, I spoke firmly and deliberately.

“That man said Mom got kicked out of the Marquis’s household, and they’re the ones suffering because of it. He also said it’d be better if I just died quickly.”

“T-That’s not…”

The two knights looked utterly flustered.

They were probably caught off guard by my sudden boldness, considering I usually passed by them indifferently.

But regardless of how I normally behaved, could they really excuse what they had said?

‘Absolutely not.’

Having said my piece, I fell silent.

Mother slowly rose to her feet and approached Paul. He instinctively stepped back.

“Stand up straight.”

Her cold, commanding voice rang out. Paul hesitated for a moment before reluctantly straightening his posture.

And then—

Smack!

A sharp sound echoed as Mother’s hand struck Paul’s cheek, snapping his head to the side.

I almost let out a gasp of surprise but managed to stifle it by hurriedly covering my mouth with both hands. Thankfully, no sound escaped.

Paul, still reeling from rolling in the snow, staggered as though he had lost his balance after being slapped again.

However, my mother didn’t so much as flinch and sharply rebuked him.

“I told you to stand up straight.”

At her words, Paul bit his lip and forced himself to straighten his posture.

My mother spat her words at him like venom.

“Even if I’m currently stuck living in this remote corner of the north, I am still a legitimate member of the Marquis’s household and a direct blood relative of your employer. Dismissing a mere knight like you is nothing to me.”

At her words, both Paul and the older knight flinched simultaneously.

My mother took another step closer to Paul, her voice lowering and growing darker.

“Of course, since this is just a job, I don’t care what nonsense you say behind my back. I have no intention of wasting my time on the meaningless drivel of others.”

“…”

“But the child heard you.”

“…!”

“You shouldn’t have let such words reach the child’s ears.”

Her final words were spoken in a near whisper.

It seemed that my mother had lowered her voice deliberately, perhaps out of concern that I might have been hurt by their words.

‘But I’m fine.’

To be honest, I was surprisingly calm.

What bothered me wasn’t that Paul had spoken ill of me. It was the fact that he had the audacity to carelessly wag his tongue about the family he served.

Perhaps I was unaffected because I already knew there was no way out.

My death was inevitable, and I had long since come to terms with that unchangeable reality. Instead of wasting time feeling upset, I thought it would be better to focus on finding a way to save my mother.

Meanwhile, Paul, who had been listening to my mother’s words, glanced at me with a deeply shaken expression.

When our eyes met, he flinched and quickly turned his head away.

‘What’s with him?’

I narrowed my eyes at his strange reaction.

At that moment, my mother turned her somber gaze toward the older knight.

“You.”

“Y-Yes?”

“If you don’t want to hear news of my death—or disappearance—then inform the Marquis to replace this man with another knight. And be sure to watch your own tongue.”

My mother, noticing my gaze, quickly changed her wording, likely aware that the Marquis wouldn’t kill her as long as she was useful to him.

“…Understood.”

In the end, the older knight bowed his head deeply and gave a positive response.

Even though he had been laughing along with Paul just moments ago, it seemed that self-preservation was his top priority. How pathetic.

Once my mother received his confirmation, she turned away without hesitation.

She approached me, forced a smile, and picked me up in her arms.

“Libby, let’s go inside. We need to put some medicine on those scrapes.”

“…Okay, Mom.”

By then, her voice had softened, returning to its usual gentle tone.

I wrapped my arms around her neck as she carried me up the stairs.

As I rested in her familiar embrace, a thought crossed my mind.

‘…She was so cool just now.’

At the same time, I couldn’t help but recall the image of the “villainess” from the novel.

The image of Gretel Diarmuid slapping the princess and sneering at her under the Marquis’s orders.

One thing was clear—I needed to escape this place as soon as possible and get my mother out of the Marquis’s clutches.

‘No matter what, I have to find a way.’

With renewed determination, I returned home with my mother.

—

[That man said Mom got kicked out of the Marquis’s household, and they’re the ones suffering because of it.]

[He also said it’d be better if I just died quickly.]

Gretel Diarmuid froze, her hand stopping mid-motion as she organized a jar of ointment.

She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anger rising within her.

“…”

After barely calming herself, she glanced over.

Through the open bedroom door, she could see Laviela lying on her stomach on the bed, idly swinging her legs.

Her daughter’s legs were covered in bandages.

Gretel bit her lip hard.

‘Because of me…’

Her child must have been in pain—both physically and emotionally.

[This child’s life is tied to mine. Don’t you dare lay a finger on her.]

Back then, when she had lost her husband to her father’s schemes and was half out of her mind, Gretel had held a sword to her own neck and threatened the Marquis Diarmuid.

It was a reckless move, born of desperation and fury, but it worked because the Marquis needed her for his marriage schemes.

The Marquis hadn’t ignored her threat. But he hadn’t let her go, either.

On the night he banished Gretel to the remote northern tower, he had grabbed her daughter’s shoulder painfully and sneered.

[Don’t push me too far. I won’t touch the child, as you’ve demanded. However…]

[…]

[You’ll come to learn how miserable it is to barely cling to life in that place.]

[…]

[And when that time comes, you’ll beg to return to the Marquis’s estate. Don’t forget that.]

After imprisoning Gretel in the isolated northern tower, the Marquis provided just enough support to keep her alive—but nothing more.

Gretel, who had grown up as a pampered young lady in a wealthy household, found it difficult to adapt to life in the tower.

Tasks like heating water, chopping firewood, and lighting the fireplace often made her nostalgic for her former life.

But she endured it all, gritting her teeth, because she wanted to protect herself and her daughter from the Marquis’s grasp.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder—was it truly the right choice?

[Cough!]

Laviela had been frail from birth.

Given that Gretel herself was barely surviving, it was no surprise that her child, born into such circumstances, wasn’t healthy.

Fearing that Gretel might take her own life if she lost her child, the Marquis provided her with minimal medical supplies.

But even with those provisions, Laviela’s condition steadily declined, like water eroding stone.

Each time her daughter’s health worsened, Gretel’s face grew darker with guilt.

‘Because of me…’

If she hadn’t been exiled to this place, they might have lived a comfortable life, even if it was emotionally difficult.

At the very least, her child might have been born healthy.

‘Because of me… this child, who should have been healthy, was born into suffering.’

“Am I…”

‘Am I killing this child with my stubbornness?’

Such thoughts gnawed at Gretel’s mind and heart every day.

[Mom, you’re having weird thoughts again, aren’t you? They say bad thoughts make you age faster.]

But Laviela always seemed to sense her mother’s self-recrimination. She would frown and scold her.

That only made Gretel feel worse.

Laviela’s maturity and intelligence weren’t natural—they were forged by their circumstances.

Thud—

“Ugh…”

Finally, a tear that had been precariously hanging in Gretel’s eye rolled down her cheek.

She quickly turned away from Laviela and wiped her tears.

Laviela, who had been pretending to read a book on the bed, turned her head slightly at the sound.

‘…She’s crying again.’

Laviela sighed softly as she confirmed her mother’s trembling shoulders.

She had been acting nonchalant on purpose to prevent this very situation.

‘Even if I hadn’t cried, she would’ve been upset… but seeing her child cry would hurt her even more.’

With that thought, Laviela suppressed her own tears. She was too busy thinking of solutions anyway.