Chapter 78: Good and evil.

I had never once come home this early of my own will.
Of course, even today, it wasn’t because I wanted to.
I simply had no desire to walk the streets without Yulan, and more than anything, I knew it wouldn’t be fun.

If that was the case, I should have talked more back then, should have invited him; but regretting it after returning home was pointless.
Above all, right now, if I were with Yulan, I was terrified I might blurt out something unnecessary.

“Lady Violet…”

“I’m going to rest for a bit.”

“Yes, I’ll prepare everything at once.”

The moment Marin saw my face upon returning, she seemed to sense something.
She supported every sluggish movement of her master; from changing clothes (which I usually did myself) to the subsequent preparations; and placed a hot milk in front of me as I collapsed onto the sofa, head bowed.
I knew she was doing everything she possibly could to care for me, yet I had no energy to respond.
I couldn’t say thank you and savor the sweet hot milk she made, nor could I simply fall asleep and reset my thoughts.
I couldn’t say I was fine and give her a smile.

All I could do was close my eyes without sleeping.

×　×　×　×

Hot milk with extra honey was one of Violet’s favorites.
The head chef had taught Marin the recipe.
Marin had begged to be taught again and again, practiced countless times, and now “Marin’s hot milk” was Violet’s absolute favorite.

She had wanted, somehow, to make the girl who only knew how to curl up when hurt smile.
She didn’t know how.
She gathered everything Violet liked and showed it to her, but seeing Violet force a smile out of consideration for her had been painful.

The one thing she finally found was hot milk made very sweet with lots of honey, then cooled just a little.
The way she lapped at it like a kitten when it was still steaming was adorable, but the blissful expression when she drank it once the steam had almost vanished; that soft smile; was etched clearly in Marin’s memory even now.
Only the head chef, whom Marin had actually cried to, knew how relieved and yet how much she had wanted to cry when she saw the tension leave Violet’s shoulders.

She had made it again and again after that.
Every time she did, Violet had been hurt, had reached a point where she couldn’t even cry; and the thought made Marin want to curse her own skill.
At first she failed, her hands were clumsy, yet now she could probably make it perfectly even with her eyes closed.

Still, as long as it made Violet happy.
Because Violet smiled and said thank you; Marin had been able to take pride even in this wretched experience point.

Because of Violet’s smile, because of her thank you, Marin had believed this was right.

(Why…)

Carrying the uniform she had changed Violet out of, Marin left the room and thought of her mistress holding her breath inside.

(I couldn’t reach her.)

It had never once happened before.
She should have reached for the cup, wrapped both hands around the slightly cooled warmth, and relaxed.
Even if Marin didn’t get to see her drink it, she should have smiled and said thank you.

“…”

Teeth clenched with a dull sound; the click of her tongue died inside her mouth.
She was aware of the deep crease between her brows.

Right now, her face was probably terrifyingly grim.

In her mind played yesterday’s scene and the innocently smiling pearl-colored girl.

(That fucking bitch…)

Vile words she could never voice.
Words a noble’s maid should never say, but Marin wanted praise just for keeping them silent.

If reason hadn’t been working, she would already have marched to Mary-June and beaten her until she felt better.

She didn’t know exactly how confused Violet’s heart was.
Even Marin couldn’t imagine that Violet was fighting a possessiveness that had taken root inside her.

Yet the cause of Violet’s change was obvious.

She had been strange since last night’s dinner.
More precisely, from the instant Mary-June had spoken Yulan’s name, the color had drained from Violet’s face and never returned.
Whether because it had summoned nightmares, her complexion this morning had been even worse than before sleeping.

The cause was clearly her half-sister’s words, and that was what infuriated Marin most of all.

Mary-June surely had no such intention.
That innocent, ignorant creature never once suspected she might hurt someone.
She believed that doing things for others never hurt anyone, and that even if she accidentally did, a simple sorry would fix everything.

She believed in the inherent goodness of people, that every personality was made of pure kindness.
If one had to describe Mary-June’s character in a word, it would indeed be “good.”

So what?

A good person, mere kindness, does not mean they wield no weapon.
Just as there are heroes who took a million lives, there are sinners who took only one.

Even if Mary-June was good.
Even if her words carried no blade.
Even if Violet had simply hurt herself on her own.

So what?

To Marin, Mary-June was more worthy of hatred, resentment, and contempt than any sinner.

Be she the hero who felled the demon king or the saint who saved the nation; no matter how revered her deeds or how beloved her existence; even if others called Marin herself the sinner, the evil.

No matter what anyone said;
to Marin, Mary-June was evil.