The Villainess Just Wants to Study

Chapter 50 ~ Forgiveness and Hatred

The sound of the grandfather clock's ticking filled the resting room—a place where guests could relax. The room smelt heavily of cigars, so Dylan opened the window to let out the smoke.

She peered out the window, admiring the night sky. The stars were bright, the moon full.

The Duke of Beaumon held a match to the end of his second cigar and took several good puffs. Smoke filled his lungs as he looked down at the untouched pile of papers on the edge of the desk. He had paperwork to complete before leaving.

"Aren't you smoking an awful lot lately?" Dylan asked in a disapproving tone.

'It's not like I care, but the cigars he smokes make me sick. Even my hair smells like cigar smoke.'

"Maybe," he said, making himself laugh as he continued puffing his cigar. "We can leave after I finish this paperwork."

Dylan leaned further on the window sill to look down. The roads were empty with no sign of life— it seemed most of the carriages had already departed from the courthouse. Dylan did not know what to do. Cadence and her maids were expecting her, but the Duke was stalling.

"Are you going to sign the disownment papers?" she asked, not looking directly at him.

A short silence followed, then the Duke's eyes glazed over in pain. "I have to," he murmured, blowing smoke from his lips. "That child made a mess of things."

Disownment—the legal act of severing familial ties with someone. If the Duke signed the papers, Axil would have to find another residence to call home. It would also lead to Axil's disinheritance, officially stripping him of his title as heir apparent.

'You say that, but anyone can see you're reluctant to sign.'

"I'm going to go for a walk," she said quietly, as she picked up an oil lamp. "Take your time, father."

"Don't try to see him," he told her sternly. "He's no longer someone who can be associated with us."

Dylan's brown eyes darkened at his words. But that was how it always was—she never did understand and she never did try to understand. The fact that parents could throw away their children so easily was a puzzle she had never tried to solve.

"Of course," she said, turning the doorknob. "I won't be long."

Dylan stepped out into the hallway, and pulled the door closed behind her. For the first time she was feeling guilt as her feet carried her through the halls of the courthouse. She felt something break inside of her. It had been a while since she felt something other than pain and hatred.

'How odd.'

***

Peering out into the darkness he saw a light approaching, and could hear soft footsteps—ones that could only be a woman's or a child's. The big guard sighed, raising his weapon. Who would come to visit a criminal?

At first he could make out no details, but after a short time, he became aware of the approaching figure. He recognized this woman: her breathtaking honey-brown eyes, and the soft features of her face.

Everyone knew of the young lady with long, golden hair that reached well past her waist. She was the daughter of the Duke of Beaumon.

"What brings milady here?" he asked her, sheathing his sword.

Dylan smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. "My apologies if I startled you."

The guard immediately blushed at her apology. "M-milady shouldn't apologize," he stuttered, "since I wasn't scared."