Chapter 96

# 96

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Clack. Clack.

At that moment, a carriage approached.

For some time now, the sound of carriage wheels rolling or horses' hooves had become quite rare in this area.

Recently, carriages had often come and gone because of Nabiya.

Out of curiosity, he raised his head and looked straight ahead, seeing a carriage stop a short distance away.

Soon, a man got out of the carriage.

Lark, who had been expecting Nabiya to get out, was about to leave the mansion with a "Well, that's to be expected," when—

"Be careful getting down, Miss Nabiya."

Lark's feet came to an abrupt halt.

At a distance, an ordinary person wouldn't have heard the voice.

But to Lark, it sounded as clear as if spoken right next to him.

Perhaps it was because the name he had been waiting for was in that voice?

Lark stared at the carriage with wide eyes.

"Thank you."

"Shall I escort you to the main gate?"

"No, I'll go by myself."

The person was not clearly visible, obscured by the carriage.

However, he knew it was a man with silver hair.

Soon, the carriage left.

In its place, a pale girl with a yellow umbrella appeared.

It was Nabiya.

The moment Lark confirmed it was Nabiya, he widened his eyes and suddenly stretched out his hand.

Crack!

"Ugh!"

Lark's right arm instantly shattered, covered with red cracks.

A groan of pain, akin to a scream, escaped his lips.

But he couldn't faint now.

Lark hurriedly pulled his sleeve down to cover his grotesquely broken arm.

His lips were pale, and his whole body trembled, making it difficult to stand.

But he gritted his teeth and endured.

Nabiya, who had been about to enter Esselred, noticed Lark standing stiffly at the main gate.

"Your Grace?"

Lark parted his lips, but no sound came out.

His entire body was already burning as if he had been doused in water.

Cold sweat mixed with the rain.

Ah, it was fortunate that it was raining.

Nabiya approached Lark with quick steps.

Lark waited anxiously for the child to come closer.

His lips were pale, and his whole body trembled, making it difficult to stand.

But he gritted his teeth and endured.

Nabiya approached Lark, who stood stiffly, emitting an ominous aura.

'Is he waiting to tell me to leave...?'

Honestly, she was afraid to approach him.

Yet, strangely, her steps were drawn to him as if by gravity.

The distance between them gradually narrowed.

Ten steps, nine steps.

When it finally came down to about three steps, Lark took a step back.

He gave her space, making a path for her to enter his domain.

Nabiya took a step forward.

Lark took another step back.

He was now three steps away from the main gate.

Finally, Nabiya crossed the threshold and entered his domain.

Ah.

At that moment, Lark collapsed to his knees as if he had been knocked down.

Nabiya approached him with a startled expression.

"Your Grace!"

Lark's complexion was a mess.

His entire body was drenched as if he had just emerged from water, and he shivered like a hypothermia patient.

His eyes were unfocused and blurry, but he forced himself to meet her gaze, contorting his brows.

Nabiya realized that he had been waiting here for a long time.

She gripped the umbrella handle tightly.

Why? Why was he in this state?

He was someone who needed a lot of anesthetic herbs.

He needed a doctor and couldn't leave the mansion.

He was in pain.

Even now, looking at his face, she could feel it.

He looked incredibly miserable.

But Nabiya didn't dare to worry.

She was afraid he might tell her to leave.

This wasn't her bedroom; it was the front gate. If she heard him tell her to leave here, she would have nowhere to go.

Moreover, she hadn't yet proven her worth.

In other words, Nabiya was still just a useless child.

But if she could endure a little longer, if she could show her worth—

Perhaps Lark would dislike her a little less.

Nabiya stood still, unable to do anything, and anxiously looked at Lark before speaking.

"Shall I call someone...?"

"I was wrong."

The words were faint, mixed with the sound of the rain.

"Excuse me?"

Lark spoke again.

"I was wrong."

Nabiya hadn't thought that Lark was standing at the gate because of her.

There was no reason to think so.

"I was harsh with my words. I was wrong..."

But Lark, on his knees, within arm's reach of the small, frail child, begged like a child.

"I'm sorry for shouting... I was wrong."

Lark repeatedly said he was wrong and apologized, his face contorted in pain.

He was already half-conscious.

Yet he continued to beg.

He was wrong. Please forgive him.

He didn't know what else to do, so he just pleaded.

He looked pitiful.

With a painfully contorted face, he kept exhaling hot breath, begging for forgiveness from the child who was much smaller and more delicate than himself.

Lark soon had to support his body with his intact arm, which wasn't covered in cracks.

"I'm sorry..."

Nabiya dropped her umbrella.

The distance of three steps was reduced to one.

"It's okay."

That was as far as she could go.

Nabiya couldn't narrow the gap any further.

But she said,

"It's okay, Your Grace."

In truth, it wasn't okay.

Hearing Lark's apology, she knew exactly.

She wasn't okay at all.

She felt unbearably miserable, trying to find reasons for her state, and struggled to revert to the original foolish Nabiya to gain acceptance.

Because the few days she spent in Esselred were the happiest and sweetest of her life.

"I'll call someone."

But Nabiya, absurdly, thought this:

Perhaps, she was a little stronger than this person.

She had a little more composure.

That's why she could say it was okay.

As Nabiya tried to leave, Lark, in a state on the verge of fainting, desperately tried to stop her.

But he couldn't show his monstrous appearance, with his arm shattered into pieces.

He quickly pulled his arm into his chest and, with his shoulders heaving, said,

"Stay here."

"But—"

"Please. I'm begging you..."

Don't leave. Stay here.

Lark wasn't aware of what he was saying.

This body was almost at the end of its usable life, unable to withstand even this level of shock.

Truly, it was like garbage.

This place must be a garbage dump because of Lark, because of himself.

Thud!

"Your Grace!"

Nabiya hurriedly stretched out her hand but couldn't bring herself to touch Lark's body.

"A... a... what do I do...!"

Nabiya's rational thinking was completely paralyzed, and her voice sounded like a metallic rasp.

"Just ask for help."

"Help... help me..."

A small, weak voice barely audible over the rain.

Nabiya, with her hand extended toward Lark, who lay like a corpse, was at a loss.

"Help me...!"

Please.

Please, someone.

"Help! Your Grace has collapsed!"

Nabiya shouted toward the mansion, her voice like a scream.

"Help, please!"

#17.

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If you messed with me, you have to pay the price.