Chapter 38

Xiaoming stood at the classroom door, took a deep breath, and firmly gripped the secret letter from his mother.

Duke Heron lay on the bed.

Pale moonlight seeped in through the large window.

He turned his body to the side.

The desk came into view.

A small frame on the desk caught his eye.

It contained a photo of Rael taken with a magic camera.

The Duke reminisced about the memories he shared with Rael.

'I'm glad I'm your wife. Only I can possess you.'

The Duke stared at Rael's photo without end.

Viola's image wouldn't leave his mind.

'That child.'

He had felt it before.

She resembled Rael in some inexplicable way.

He even had the feeling that:

'She must have been sent by Rael to keep me from feeling lonely anymore.'

'It can't be.'

There was no connection between Rael and Viola.

Viola was merely adopted to be used and discarded.

But there were peculiarities.

'Why does the potion carry such a nostalgic feeling?'

How could the potion convey such nostalgia?

How could a child who didn't know Rael understand such things just by looking at the potion?

'The longing for someone. A love deeper than death. And a fervent wish. I can see all of that.'

It felt as if Rael had appeared in Viola's dreams and taught her everything.

'Rael.'

Tears welled up in the Duke's eyes.

He had prayed countless times for Rael to be by his side, but the gods had never answered his prayers.

The Duke got up from his seat.

He opened the secret vault.

Inside, there was a flower ring preserved with supreme preservation magic.

'Rael. You always gave me these chrysanthemum flower rings.'

In a secret place known to no one, Rael had once woven a chrysanthemum flower ring for the Duke.

Each time, the Duke's face would turn red.

'Men don't do such things.'

'But husbands do.'

That day, Rael's smile was so beautiful.

Seeing Rael happy made him happy.

So he always wore the flower ring in front of Rael.

Each time,

Rael would clap her hands in delight.

'You look amazing. You're so beautiful.'

It was a secret shared only by the Duke and Rael, unknown to anyone else in the family.

But Viola's actions reminded him so much of Rael.

'That ring suits you too well.'

'You look incredibly handsome, Dad.'

'You're so beautiful.'

His reason kept rejecting these thoughts.

But his emotions kept leading him to think differently.

Viola seemed like a child Rael had sent for him.

'Silly thoughts.'

Heron put the chrysanthemum wreath back into the secret vault and looked at Rael's photo once more.

For some reason, today,

It felt as if Rael was smiling.

'I miss you.'

Was it Rael he missed?

Or was it the bold adopted daughter?

Even the Duke couldn't tell.

***

Hera stabbed a strawberry with her fork.

She stabbed it so hard that the juice splattered around.

"Are you in your right mind?"

"Yes, I am."

"Why did you volunteer to be the White Belladonna?"

"I already told you before. Has your memory gotten worse, sis?"

It was true.

A year ago, Viola had hinted to Hera that she would become the White Belladonna.

Naturally, Hera hadn't taken it seriously.

"I thought you were just mocking the White Belladonna."

"You're the White Belladonna, sis."

"......"

"Why would I mock the White Belladonna when you're my sister?"

Hera looked into Viola's kind eyes.

She felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Sometimes I get confused."

"About what?"

"About how you can have such kind eyes in front of me."

"It's not just in front of you."

"Then where else?"

"In front of you and Father."

Just two people in the world.

Hera secretly felt good about it.

But she said curtly,

"Anyway, you're the Iron-Blooded Belladonna. The most Bella-like Belladonna, who declared war on the Belladonnas at the welcome banquet."

Viola's actions at the welcome banquet had become a legend in the Duke's family.

It would likely be recorded prominently in the history of the Belladonnas.

"Yes, that's right."

"But why? Why the White Belladonna?"

Hera felt like she was going to explode with frustration.

In history, the White Belladonna had never held power.

At best, they were second-in-command.

Hera knew the limits of the White Belladonna all too well.

"Do you trust me, sis?"

"I've trusted you so far!"

The Viola Hera knew was an excellent strategist.

She had resolved the wild boar problem in Maple Village with a harmonious approach and made a huge profit from land investments.

"You recently suppressed a bandit group, right?"

"Yes, something like that."

The truth was a bit different.

She had gone with Hixon, who had become a complete (?) human, and Tundra, the male lead from the novel.

Tundra, who had made remarkable progress, had killed seven bandits alone, while Hixon had killed three.

Viola had just watched.

"The leader of the bandits was a former imperial knight, right?"

"Not a regular knight, but an apprentice, I think."

"Still! Do you think it's easy to suppress a bandit group of over ten people at the age of ten?"

Why would such a capable sister choose to be the White Belladonna instead of the Black Belladonna!

Why would she waste such outstanding talent!

"Calm down, sis."

"Do I look calm?"

"Anyway, I've decided to become the White Belladonna."

My goal isn't to be the head of the family, but to live a long, happy life.

Being the White Belladonna is the best choice for that, sis.

"I can't understand your decision."

"You didn't understand me three years ago either."

Three years ago, Hera had criticized Viola.

"Why did you buy that useless land?"

"What kind of wind blew through your mind?"

"Three years later, how did it turn out?"

"It was just good luck."

"You're a businesswoman. Do you really think it was just luck?"

Viola's eyes narrowed.

She emitted a controlled amount of killing intent, which she had now mastered to some extent.

The first-class contributor to making Hera the Iron-Blooded Lady, the killing intent from her naturally murderous body spread around.

In fact, Viola could only do this much, but the intensity was strong.

"If you really think that, I might be disappointed in you, sis."

"......"

Hera fell silent for a moment.

In truth, Hera knew it wasn't just luck.

It was a high-risk, high-reward investment made with thorough calculation.

Viola smiled again.

"I understand your frustration. You care about me, and I care about you. I know you're looking out for me."

"Enough. I don't need your half-hearted sweet talk."

"It won't be half-hearted."

Viola slightly bowed in front of Hera.

She met Hera's eyes, who was in a wheelchair.

She took Hera's hand.

"I don't like that you, with your excellent skills, are mocked and subtly ignored just because you're the White Belladonna."

Hera met Viola's eyes.

"What are you saying?"

"I don't want you to be ignored just because you're the White Belladonna. In fact, without the White Belladonna, there wouldn't be the Black Belladonna. I can't stand to see that."

"......"

"So you're supporting the White Belladonna for that reason?"

"Not exactly, but I can't say it's not a reason."

"......"

Hera sighed deeply.

"It's absurd and ridiculous."

She took Viola's hand with her left hand as well.

"I don't dislike it, though."

No other Belladonna had ever said such things to Hera.

Only Viola had ever said such things to her.

Hera was genuinely impressed.

'Viola, the Belladonna who can wear a thousand masks.' That was the evaluation given by Xenon, and Hera agreed.

After all, the Viola who dealt with others was a completely different person.

Even now, after three years,

Hera couldn't tell what Viola's true feelings were.

'Whether it's true feelings or a mask.'

Hera made a very rational judgment.

She believed it was more likely to be a mask.

'I like what you're saying.'

Hera said.

"Father probably thought you had the potential to be the Black Belladonna."

"Probably."

Hera's eyes became serious as she regained her composure.

"He wouldn't have allowed it without a reason, you know that, right?"

"I know."

Viola straightened her back.

"He'll probably give me an extremely difficult test."

*

Over the past three years, Tundra had learned swordsmanship under Hixon.

Hixon was a swordsman who wielded a tyrannical and domineering style of swordsmanship based on brute strength.

Influenced by Hixon, Tundra had also learned a heavy, strength-based sword technique.

Tundra handled a greatsword that was two meters long, and his skills were unmatched among his peers.

He always worked hard.

To avoid being an embarrassing companion to Viola Belladonna.

He had read the Half-White Book more than thirty times.

After putting the greatsword away in the subspace, Tundra knocked.

"Master, you called me?"

Tundra walked confidently up to Viola.

He knelt on one knee and bowed.

"You'll be busy from now on. Have you heard?"

"I heard you're supporting the White Belladonna."

Whether it was the Black Belladonna or the White Belladonna,

It didn't matter to him.

No matter what she chose, Viola was his benefactor, the one who had reached out to him when he was at his lowest.

"What do you think will happen next?"

"The Duke will probably test you."

Not just a simple test, but a mission that borders on torment.

After all, the Duke wanted the Black Belladonna, not the White Belladonna.

'I'll never be the Black Belladonna!'

I have no desire to be the top or a real Massacre Lady.

To Viola, this path was the safest.

Tundra, kneeling on one knee, said,

"Master."

"What is it?"

"Can I look up?"

"No."

For three years, Viola had never met Tundra's eyes for more than five seconds.

She didn't want her inner self to come out.

She didn't want to lose control of her body.

"...Yes."

"Instead, I'll pet your head."

Instead of meeting his eyes, she petted his head.

From Tundra's perspective, it turned into a bit of a push-pull situation, but:

Swish, swish—

Tundra slightly shrank his shoulders.

His face turned a bit red.

It felt good.

This touch was what he had fought for.

To keep his master's hands clean of blood.

A warm feeling blossomed in Tundra's heart.

Was this how a dog felt when receiving affection from its master?

Another desire also arose.

'I want to see your eyes.'

He didn't ask for much.

He just wanted to see her eyes.

He had always stolen glimpses of Viola's face from a distance.

'Even though she still doesn't allow it...'

For three years, he had never seen her properly.

He had only stolen glimpses from afar.

Annoyingly, his master had never given him a proper look.

It made him a bit sad.

'But I won't be greedy.'

Someday.

When the time comes.

She will look at me with those eyes.

'After enough interaction, I can confidently ask for it.'

After reading the Half-White Book, he wasn't in a hurry.

Once a sufficient bond and trust were formed, he could act like other companions.

It was just a matter of time.

Tundra left Viola's room.

But he ran into someone in the hallway.

'Third Prince, Kun?'

Tundra recognized the man's face.

'What's he doing here?'

The man's body reeked of blood.

Kun's eyes looked strange and ominous.