Don't Look For Me

How much would it cost to put a price on this love?

 

Looking at the warranty card in front of her, Euphemia thought that way.

 

It was his own disposal cost, as he would give tens of thousands of gelts right away if she took it to the store.

 

The cost to remove a caretaker from the baron. Who’s nothing from the heir of the Duke of Peredith.

 

That was the price of this love set by the duke.

 

“My son has done something immature.”

 

The Duchess of the great duke was full of grace even at this moment.

 

She looks at Euphemia with grace and composure, without anger, without contempt.

 

However, the eyes were cold and cold like a blizzard of cold weather.

 

“It’s even more heartbreaking that you’ve worked hard for me.”

 

Euphemia was The Duchess of Peredith companion and caretaker for many days.

 

Day and night, acting like her hands and feet, digging up medicinal herbs that were good for her, and devoting herself to her.

 

She thought this was my place because she wanted to believe that she would need me here.

 

Euphemia, who needed a comfortable home away from the baron who had made her soul lonely, generously sacrificed her abilities.

 

“I wouldn’t be upset, but if it’s not enough, you’ll have to tell me.”

 

But in the end, this wasn’t the place she had to be.

 

“Yes.”

 

Instead of being discouraged, Euphemia replied calmly.

 

Everything was as expected; she was used to this situation.

 

The decision concluded.

 

Perhaps she has been prepared since the Duchess called her.

 

“Yes. Then, you must leave the duke’s residence. For Cassius-.”

 

“Don’t worry. I have that kind of insight.”

 

Her lovers can’t be of any help to her.

 

Euphemia thought so.

 

Can he, as the heir to the duke, defy her parents.

 

Even if she goes against it, can she ask him to abandon his family for her?

 

Can the future with her be his happiness after abandoning his family?

 

If he says he’s happy, would she believe him?

 

Euphemia decided to let him go because she couldn’t believe him.

 

As expected, she’s unlucky. A mournful smirk brushed her lips.

 

The pearls that she thought were good and cherished became stones as time passed.

 

It was the first precious thing she had, but it lost its light as soon as she got it.

 

“That’s great.”

 

The voice that was flowing out from her lips was smooth.

 

Not trembling, not swallowing a cry, she just said what she had to say.

 

“Otherwise, I was in trouble because your son was so clingy.”

 

Euphemia decided to make a big deal out of it.

 

It was apparent to sell her love at a bargain price.

 

It’s nothing, so it’s okay.

 

Just thinking about it like that made her feel a little less sad, so she thought she could survive.

 

“…….I’m sorry.”

 

The Duchess’s eyebrows narrowed delicately the moment when her son got mentioned.

 

But this was something that had to be allowed.

 

Euphemia wasn’t wrong either.

 

The Duchess had already guessed. The weight of her emotions where it will be tilted if she puts it on the scale.

 

That’s why she wants her to leave.

 

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

 

Finally, Euphemia uttered what the Duchess wanted.

 

The Duchess’s face sinks in silence when she gets the answer she’s been anticipating.

 

Numerous emotions swirled in Euphemia’s mind while confirming that her loss was peaceful for someone else.

 

She worked hard to capture the colorful and complex shadows and hid them inside her.

 

The night when we finally decided to part ways, the darkness was bottomless.

 

The dim light illuminates the duchess’s parlor. The words that were pushing her back. Heavy air as if it’s submerged in water.

 

Euphemia felt a sense of deja vu about everything that came to this moment. All of this had already happened.

 

She stared intently at the dimly fading light and remembered the days’ gone continues.

 

The loss record is vividly remembered, like yesterday.

    

* * * *

    

So, Euphemia Lasser was unlucky.

 

She used to notice what was on the back even before she flipped the card.

 

For over 20 years, she’s always been on the unlucky side.

 

It was the same this time.

 

The poor marriage talk came to Euphemia as if trying to find a place. It was no longer a surprise.

 

“He’s the second son of Viscount Marion. Do you know him?”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

Euphemia replied bluntly to her stepmother’s gentle question.

 

The red lights of the lanterns cut through the darkness, drawing vivid light and shade over her face.

 

The second son of Viscount Marion was a troublemaker who knew no one around here.

 

He got blinded by alcoholism and has a bad temper, so she’s worried about a wealthy self-proclaimed viscount.

 

Because of this, even though he was married, he did not have an actual marriage, and the Viscounts said that they were not in a hurry.

 

Euphemia was also very well aware that she needs to give a small gift to a bride shortly.

 

“It’s a good place. Don’t you think the characters of the Viscount couple are also gentle? Moreover, they said your husband is brave and reliable.”

 

My soothing voice was so sweet.

 

Even a rough and ugly man becomes quite a plausible man when it goes through her stepmother’s mouth.

 

Since Baron Lasser is Korean and American, this marriage must have been tempting.

 

The eyes of her stepmother had already made him her husband in her head. We’re waiting for a positive answer.

 

But Euphemia turned a blind eye to her.

 

She guessed one day she’d turn the bad cards around again.

 

Even if she chose the Reaper with a Scythe card, she thought she had no choice but to accept it.

 

Conformity has been a virtue that has been constantly in demand around her birth and growth.

 

But not now, she is not ready yet.

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

Euphemia chose a vague answer instead of saying no. It was the best language she could choose for now.

 

“Yes, go ahead. I’m sure you’re worried. I understand.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“But Euphemia, I believe you know what choice you have to make. Don’t let us down. You’re a wise child.”

 

In the end, it sounds like Euphemia’s will isn’t that important.

 

Feeling the will to sell Euphemia in a terrible mess, she just closed her eyes once and opened them with a stiff face.

 

Euphemia’s mood was somehow irrelevant, so her stepmother smiled nonchalantly.

 

“Oh, my God, it’s late. Then go back to your room carefully. I look forward to your preparation for the tea party tomorrow.”

 

Her stepmother, who checked the clock, calmly concluded the conversation. Until the very end, a soft voice tickled her ears.

 

As soon as Euphemia finished speaking, she stood up without delay.

 

It was quite a long way from the baroness’ parlor to her room.

 

It was already late at night; the weather was rough. The maid had turned off the lanterns in the hallway.

 

The only thing she could rely on was a lamp in her hand.

 

She followed the small light through the darkness of the mansion.

 

The wind rattled and knocked on the window.

 

The windows shuddered and rattled uncontrollably.

 

The night, the dark darkness all over the spot like her future.

 

Euphemia took a small step because the light that illuminates through the hallway was weak and cloudy.

 

It was a pitch-black time when the moon covered its face. Even the stars were asleep.

 

On a day like this, the mother who gave birth to Euphemia told her old tales while stroking her frightened forehead.

 

The heroes in constellations and fascinating legends. The different mysterious animals and plants.

 

A mother who taught her things that no one had told her in a singing voice.

 

Mother.

 

She thinks of her mother.

 

Her mother died when Euphemia was eight years old. A short-lived fever took the life of a vulnerable woman.

 

Young Euphemia didn’t know what death was.

 

She just vaguely accepted that she can’t see her mother again.

 

Euphemia’s mother was from a wandering race.

 

She took hold of the young Euphemia and said, ‘Never tell anyone you’re of foreign blood’.

 

Then her mother’s pink eyes glowed with a strange heat and cold.

 

But the eyes are no longer open again.

 

On the Funeral day, when the chapel bell rings.

 

Forever wrapped in a coffin decorated with white lilies, her mother’s eyelids were pale to blue.

 

The scent of death was relentless.

 

However, the 8-year-old Euphemia held back her tears because she seemed to admit her mother’s death if she cried.

 

Why did she do that like a fool? After all, the dead never come back.

 

Those who didn’t know anything snorted that the small child was strong.

 

There was no time to be sad for a long time.

 

After a while, her father brought in a wife.

 

Although she was a low-status baron, she was a noble.

 

He needed someone to take care of the house, and Belinda, the new baroness, was a woman who met her father’s needs.

 

On the way to Baron Lasser, Belinda brought her daughter. It was Cecilia.

 

The child who looked just like her father was Euphemia’s half-sister.

 

The evidence of denial was clear, but no one was to blame.

 

Belinda, who became baroness, soon had a son. My father happily named him Owen.

 

Cecilia and Owen. The two half-sisters and brother grew up like plants in the sun.

 

Her father was strict but caring, and Belinda was an umbrella mother to her children.

 

It was a happy family pictured.

 

And there was no place for Euphemia.

 

She was always behind the family, outside the umbrella.

 

She always ate separately in her room and read books by herself.

 

Euphemia was always alone while looking at the roses blooming in the garden and drawing constellations in the night sky.

 

No one in the family paid any attention to the little girl in the shade.

 

Rather than being together like that, she’d rather stand back and watch, and it would have been better if she hadn’t been born in the world.

 

Perhaps, she was an unlucky hand chosen by Baron Lasser.

 

Hwak!

 

The strong wind opened the window and lit the lanterns.

 

It was a small light, but without it, the whole world was dark.

 

Her vision was black, and she couldn’t see anything as if her eyes were closed.

 

Euphemia stands still on the spot.

 

The candle’s wick was still burning. That thin, fragile spark was the only light that consumed the darkness.

 

It was then.

 

A fireball in the shape of a lizard came out of the extinguishing embers.

 

The red lizard, burning all over its body, gently flicked the tip of its tongue.

 

Then the wick, which turned off and caught fire again.

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The fire swelled up like it would not get extinguished by any wind.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Standing in the hallway where she found the light again, Euphemia greeted the spirit of fire.

 

Then the spirit of fire circulated in the air as if in a good mood, then scattered and disappeared as it was.