Her crying grew heavier. Her hands gripped her own clothes. Tears poured down freely. And what hurt even more her father's eyes were empty. Looking at nothing at all.
--------------------------------
After the funeral, everything changed.
The mansion no longer felt like home.
Wherever Ophla walked... eyes followed.
Not warm. Not kind.
Sharp.
Like she had done something unforgivable.
"That's her..."
"The one who saw it..."
"Didn't you hear? The Duchess collapsed right after that day..."
"They said... it started because of her."
She heard the same words almost every day.
But that afternoon ....
Madam Irene can't stand anymore, she who was
"Do you want to lose your jobs?!" Madam Irene's voice cut through the corridor, sharp as fire, walking beside Ophla. Her eyes blazed.
The servants who had been whispering immediately scattered back to their work.
Ophla, who had heard everything, only lowered her head and said nothing. Her mouth stayed shut. She knew even if she explained, no one would believe her.
----------------------&
Her father became quiet.
His door stayed closed. She tried to see him over and over again.
She waited outside his door.
1 day.
2 days.
7 days.
One month.
No words. Not even his voice she had already started to forget what it sounded like.
Every night she lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
"Is this what Mother used to see?
she whispered into the dark. Her eyes were swollen.
Two months passed. Still nothing.
Only her nanny and Madam Irene the two of them were the ones who still stood up for her when anyone dared to speak badly about her.
----------------
That night, the mansion felt quieter than usual.
Quiet, like everything had suddenly gone still.
Ophla slowly opened her eyes. Her throat felt dry.
"...water..."
Before she could even sit up, her nanny had already moved.
"I'll get it for you, Your Grace."
Ophla nodded slowly. But then, she heard something.A voice.From the garden.
She froze.
"...someone's there...?"
Slowly, she climbed down from the bed. Her steps were light but her heart felt heavy. She didn't know why but something felt wrong.
She walked.
And walked.
The hallway was dark. Only a little moonlight guided her way. Step by step, she moved closer, until she reached the garden her mother used to tend.
She stopped.
Her eyes slowly widened.
Her father... was there.
Sitting alone. In front of the flowers her mother had planted. Head bowed.
Shoulders shaking.
He was crying.
Ophla felt her chest tighten.
*What is Dad doing here?*
She was about to turn away, take one step back, when she stopped mid-movement.
Voices.
Low.
Cold. And
Unfamiliar.
Slowly she leaned closer, hiding behind the bushes.
And then one sentence reached her ears.
"You have broken your promise..."
Silence.
"Please... there is still someone I want to protect..."
A voice so similar to her father's. Sobbing.
"That is the price you must pay..."
"I already warned you..."
"Your foolishness..."
"...forcing her to have that child."
Ophla's heart shattered. She covered her mouth with both hands.
That child. Do they mean... me?
"Please... give me one more chance..." her father's voice broke.
Her heart pounded.
*Why does Dad sound like he's... begging?*
She stood completely still, feet rooted to the ground. Heart hammering.
"The agreement cannot be undone," the man said.
"The curse is no longer..." his cold voice continued , then cut off.
Ophla startled.
*What curse? WHAT CURSE?!* she thought desperately, straining to hear every word.
"Your wife... removed everything... before she died..." the man said, stepping away.
Don't tell me!!
Ophla's chest seized.
"But didn't you promise to help me?!" Duke Herold's voice was trembling she could hear him bowing, begging.
"...You have already broken your promise."
Her breath stopped for a moment. She didn't understand. But her chest felt like it was caving in.
"Please!!"
Her father's voice cracked again.
She could picture his face the way he had looked crying just now.
Ophla pressed her hand tighter over her mouth. Terrified that even her breathing would be heard. Her legs felt weak. Her mind went blank.
A short silence. Everything went quiet.
Her ears were ringing. Her vision blurred at the edges.Her fingers gripped the wall tightly.
Her whole body began to shake.
No...
That's not true...
Then the cold man spoke again.
"I already warned you, Herold."
"You were too greedy."
He turned to leave. And suddenly
THUD.
Something dropped. Red... slowly falling to the ground. Ophla's eyes went wide.
"...you..."
The man's voice. She looked at her father.
He didn't look like himself anymore. Its felt like he becomes somebody else
What... am I seeing...?
Suddenly...someone grabbed her from behind.
She almost screamed.
"Don't" It was her nanny.
Tears fell without stopping. Ophla pulled her into a tight hug, her whole body shaking. She didn't understand anything.
But she knew.
Something was wrong.
That night, she couldn't sleep.
And slowly... something inside her started to break.
Her nanny stroked her back gently, telling her to breathe. Ophla could feel the arms holding her trembling too.
We are the same
Ophla thought quietly.
She cried until she had nothing left. And without realising it, her eyes slowly closed, and she drifted off beside her nanny.
"Forgive me, Duchess. I wasn't able to protect her."
Her nanny whispered, holding Ophla's hand tightly.
_________________________
The next morning, Ophla woke to news that shook the entire estate.
Her nanny had passed away in the night.
Everyone was in an uproar.
No. No. No.
She stood looking at the body in front of her.
"She was just with me last night," she whispered inside, her heart breaking completely. The second person she had trusted. The second person who had been kind to her. Gone.
And then, from behind the crowd, her father stepped forward.
Duke Herold.
"Let us mourn her passing," he said calmly, instructing the knights to arrange the burial.
Ophla's eyes followed her nanny's body.
Then she looked at her father.
His expression hadn't changed at all.
Completely normal. As if nothing had happened. Ophla lowered her head and looked at the floor.
Is this really my fate...
____________________
That was the last time Ophla felt truly warm, the day her mother held her hand in the garden.
And the day her nanny held her after they both witnessed something they should never have seen.
She returned to her room. Sat on the bed. Hugged both knees to her chest. Looked at every corner of the room that felt so cold, dark and quiet.
And cried with everything she hadn't
____________________________
After that... everything went quiet.
Her father stopped smiling. The garden stopped growing.
And somewhere along the way …
Ophla stopped expecting anyone to stay.