Chapter 7 (1/2)

It’s really a bloody revenge.’

At that moment Dylan held his face close to Emilie.

Dylan’s eyes were silvery, unlike Victoire and Damon. The moment she faced the beautiful silvery eyes, Emilie stood firm.

“Keep in mind. Tomorrow Victoire will ask you, ‘Will you be my daughter?’ It’s a formal procedure before you enter.”

“…..”

“Say no. Then I’ll take care of it.”

“…..”

“Believe me, Emilie.”

Emilie couldn’t answer.

But this time, Dylan didn’t force an answer either. Before leaving the room, Dylan nervously looked back several times.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go out to the balcony!”

Emilie grinned, pretending she didn’t know. But what she really wanted to say was this.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t die in your father’s hands.’

Since early morning, the mansion has been bustling. Victoire and Damon have arrived. They were accompanied by the priests who would be witnesses of the entry.

“They’ve always wanted to have a pretty daughter.”

Marian said, tying Emilie’s golden hair.

“Is that so?”

In the mirror, 12-year-old Emilie was an innocent and naive little girl. But inside, Emilie’s eighteen. Emilie, who had already died once, would not be fooled by Marian’s sweet words.

“I’ve always wanted a caring father.”

But this one was sincere.

Emilie grinned at Marian in the mirror. Somehow, it was a sad smile.

The hall was crowded with people. Victoire and several employees, including the priests and the butler. And Dylan.

Dylan was chasing Emilie with persistent eyes. Emilie smiled reassuringly towards him and approached Victoire and Damon.

“Emilie, did you hear from Marian what day it is today?”

Victoire asked with a kind face.

It was an act.

“Yes. It’s the day Your Grace will make my wish come true.”

Dylan’s face turned blue with Emilie’s innocent voice.

“Let’s proceed with the entry as soon as soon as possible.”

“Wait!”

Dylan rushed to cut off Victoire who was speaking. All eyes were on Dylan.

“Are you sure you’ve explained enough to her? Once it’s done, there’s no turning back.”

“Of course, Dylan.”

Damon calmly answered.

“What will happen if this child’s father discovered that she’s still alive?”

“If you were worried about that, do you think we’d be here now?”

Damon spoke affectionately to his little brother who knew nothing. But there was a different sense of pressure in the words said than usual Damon.

The priest intervened and spoke with a gentle face:

“I heard the little girl was abused by her parents. Such parents are as good as dead even if they are alive.”1

“But…!”

“If you really care about this child, follow Your Grace’s opinion, young master. This girl won’t be happy even if she goes back.”

Dylan just shook his head while trying to say something.

“You are all so hopeless.”

Dylan, who grabbed his head, made eye contact with Emilie.

“Emilie, you didn’t forget what I said, did you?”

“I like it here.”

“…..”

“I don’t want to go back.”

Emilie watched Dylan’s face darkened and crumple with defeat. Perhaps in this house, that boy is the one who thinks the most in this house.

‘Sorry, Dylan.’

But Emilie had no choice but to do this.

Last night, after Dylan went back, Emilie was up pondering all night.

‘These people need me. So I’ll do my best to protect you until the day you sacrifice me.’

As Dylan said before, even if you run away you won’t be able to grow as safe as you are in this family.

On the first day of her recklessly fleeing, Emilie painfully felt her life threatened by the hands of robbers. A little girl left alone cannot survive.

“I won’t regret it. I’m confident.”

Dylan flinched. It was a voice filled with determination and certain to belong to a little girl.

Moreover, Emilie’s two eyes that were looking at him were not her usual young, innocent eyes.

It was the eyes of a woman who had experienced death and came back to life.

However, Dylan who could not have known its meaning, had no choice but to turn his head in despair without knowing why.

“Truly, you all do as you please. Have it your way!”

Dylan cried out as he came back to his senses. He bit his lower lip and turned around then left the hall.

The door closed with a bang! As it closed with a sound, Damon looked at Emilie.

“He’s telling us to do as we please, so I guess Dylan agreed. Emilie, how about you?”

Emilie stared at Victoire silently.

“Will you be my daughter, Emilie?”

Asked Victoire.

Blue hair and blue eyes.

It was a short time, but even her father, whom she had known her whole life, had not given her things like they did. The hugging arms were friendly and warm.

‘And they want my blood.’

In any case, she already died once.

To her, these men are saying, ‘You can be comfortably protected in the Count’s mansion.’

‘Until the time comes when they need my blood.’