Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 64

He must have seen what had just fallen his face had gone completely pale.

Calliope began to tremble as if overcome by shock, her body shaking like someone devastated by her great-uncle’s sudden suicide. Then, without hesitation, she bolted for the stairs.

The urgency in her movements was flawless—she truly looked like a distraught girl rushing to her elder’s side. Former Count Armonte stumbled along after her.

They rushed outside the annex. Ditron’s room had been on the fourth floor—more than high enough for a frail, skeletal old man to meet his end from a fall. But to their surprise… he was still barely breathing.

That breath carried nothing but despair.

Deyloren caught up soon after, slipping to Calliope’s side and whispering quietly:

“He… was able to move. When I entered, he was already by the window. He didn’t look steady—likely dragged himself there.”

So the paralysis had worn off slightly. The medicine had worn off.

And the first thing he did… was throw himself out the window.

Calliope, her eyes brimming with tears, turned to Count Armonte and cried out.

“Count! Could you go with a maid and bring help? I’ll stay with my great-uncle and make sure he’s not alone!”

“Y-yes! Of course!”

Deyloren knew exactly what needed to be done. He quickly guided Armonte away and disappeared from sight.

The annex had few servants—Deyloren had made sure of that. It had made it easier to isolate Ditron… and poison him.

Calliope crouched beside the dying man and looked down at him—his breath thin and broken.

“You couldn’t bear it, could you?”

She stared, voice flat, at the old man gasping at her feet.

“I wanted you to live longer. Suffering more. For years and years to come.”

There was no emotion in her voice. No hatred. No smile. Just a cold, quiet finality.

She lifted the corners of her lips, just enough to mimic a gentle smile.

“Still… congratulations. You always wanted to be buried on Anastas land, didn’t you?”

Ditron’s bloodshot eyes struggled to focus on her—perhaps he wanted to curse her. But the paralysis hadn’t fully worn off. His mouth wouldn’t move. His words died before reaching his lips. His eyes could barely see.

“You’ll be buried in the annex garden. Just like you always wanted.”

Her tone was tender as she gently smoothed his dry, brittle hair.

“Great-Grandfather.”

From afar, it looked as though she were grieving—head bowed, shoulders trembling before his lifeless body.

“See you in hell.”

Though I imagine you’ll be in a lower circle than me.

His body began to seize violently.

Calliope said nothing. She only opened her crimson eyes wide and watched as the spasms grew weaker.

Until— Thud.
They stopped.

“Haah…”

With a faint, annoyed sigh, she swept her long silver hair forward, covering part of her face. A bitter smile tugged at her lips.

He should have lived longer.

Only after his breath fully ceased did Deyloren and Count Armonte return with a temple healer in tow. But it was too late—there was nothing to be done.

Deyloren quietly gave instructions to the few servants remaining in the annex. They prepared the body and moved quickly to inform the main house of Ditron’s death.

“W-what in the world just happened…”

Count Armonte still looked stunned.

“He was… suffering for so long. Sometimes he would cry out from pain at night… and now, just like that, he’s gone.”

Tears welled in Calliope’s large, clear eyes and began to fall down her cheeks. Armonte hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

“P-please, don’t cry too much, my lady. I worry you might collapse during the funeral.”

“Th-thank you.”

She buried her face in the handkerchief. At that exact moment, Armonte thought to himself:

Thank the gods I switched sides before this happened.

Truly, it was a pitiful end.
A death no one would mourn.

Afterward, Calliope used the excuse of needing rest to shut herself in her room.

It irritated her that the old man hadn’t clung to life longer—but still, this kind of death wasn’t entirely bad.

Kaphir and Carolie had apparently lingered near her door out of concern, but she ignored them and kept the door shut.

Before long, someone knocked. It was a maid from the Marchioness’s side—Circe’s personal attendant.

“My lady requests your presence.”

“I see.”

So. It’s time to wrap things up.

Calliope didn’t change her clothes. She simply threw a shawl over her nightdress and made her way to Circe’s office.

The maid didn’t comment on her appearance and silently escorted her.

When Calliope entered, she found Circe buried in paperwork—just like Illan often was. Without asking for permission, Calliope walked over and sat on the sofa. She knew Circe valued results more than formality, so it likely wouldn’t matter.

As expected, Circe didn’t say a word about the informality. She simply removed her reading glasses and took the seat across from Calliope.

“You handled it well.”

“Well, it didn’t go exactly as I planned… but I’d say this result isn’t too bad either.”

“It wasn’t your plan?”

“He killed himself. I didn’t push him. And since the former Count Armonte was present, there shouldn’t be any rumors.”

Circe stared at her for a moment before asking:

“What was the original plan?”

“To keep him alive,” Calliope replied gently, though the words were anything but kind,
“…suffering in searing pain for a very, very long time.”

She smiled sweetly—cruelly.

“Long enough for him to wish he were dead every day. But, well, that’s all wasted now. I didn’t think he’d actually kill himself.”

Crossing one leg over the other, she twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers.
Circe stared at her with a tired expression, then leaned back in her chair with a sigh, seemingly resigned.

“Whatever the case, you got rid of Ditron—just like you said you would. I’ll make sure you’re properly rewarded.”

“Please do.”

“Is there anything else you want?”

Her tone was unusually low, quieter than usual. She was clearly still thinking about the day of the knight investiture. Strange how tender she could be, even though they weren’t truly family.

Calliope noticed, but only replied in a calm, even voice.

“If you want to give me more, go ahead. But I have nothing else to ask. May I go?”

Circe said nothing. Taking that as agreement, Calliope stood and walked to the door. Just as she opened it, Circe’s voice came again.

“May I ask you one favor?”

“Would I even be capable of doing something for the Marchioness?”

“Don’t hurt the children.”

Calliope laughed quietly—almost involuntarily.

“That day… Never mind. They didn’t have a choice. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, well.”

Even Calliope could admit there was no point in turning the children into enemies. And Circe—whatever her reasons—seemed to genuinely care.

“I like kids,” Calliope said simply. “You don’t have to worry.”

“…Good.”

She stepped out and gently closed the door behind her.

Click.

To Circe, the small sound felt like the final lock on a door she would never be able to open again.

Calliope’s light footsteps echoed softly down the long corridor. The windows along the hall shimmered faintly under the early evening light.

As she walked, her eyes lingered on the rows of windows—each one a reflection of Ditron’s final fall.
She could still see it: the sickening moment of descent, like an illusion haunting her vision.
She blinked, and it vanished.

With a bright smile, she moved forward, light on her feet as if dancing.

Everything had gone her way.

You couldn’t even plant a single drop of guilt in me. How typical of you.

Calliope would keep living like this—taking what she wanted, achieving what she set her mind to, and using anything—or anyone—who could be used.

That kind of woman.

A selfish woman.

The Engagement

Whether it was out of guilt from Circe and Illan, or as a reward for removing Ditron, Calliope and Isaac’s engagement was celebrated more grandly than any other.

Even the Duke and Duchess of Dylas attended.
The Empress herself made an appearance.

The ceremony was clearly a political statement—signaling that the House of Anastas had fully aligned with the royal faction.

Calliope didn’t care about that at all.

“…Lady Anastas…”

Isaac’s lips moved slowly and deliberately, his words spaced apart so he wouldn’t stutter.
Calliope gave him her brightest smile.

It was all she needed.

“Yes, Isaac?”

“No matter what happens…”

His pale eyes sparkled more brightly than the gemstones on his formal attire.

“I will always stay by your side.”

Emotion rushed up in Calliope’s chest, nearly overwhelming her.
He had said this once before. In another life.
But this time, it came sooner. And this time… she was already drowning in love.

“You have to.”

At the close of the ceremony, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly.

“You must keep that promise. Forever.”

Surrounded by blessings and praise, Calliope stood at the center of it all—showered in admiration and love.

And beside her was Isaac, who had already decided:
Whatever she wanted, he would become it.
No matter what it took.

Even if he had to completely remake himself—even if he had to lie.

As their lips slowly parted, Isaac looked down at her. There was something flickering in his gaze—
something new.
Something deep.
Something dangerous.

He couldn’t imagine a life without her anymore.
And to keep her from ever leaving him,
he would do anything.

Late morning sunlight drifted softly into the estate. Birds chirped in the distance, and a gentle spring breeze stirred the curtains.

It was a perfect spring day.

“Are you kidding me right now?!”

Chirp! Chirp!

The sparrows outside scattered in a flurry as a voice exploded through the open window.

Inside Calliope’s room, the source of the shout was immediately clear.

Carolie sat on the sofa beside her, calm and unbothered.
The dress designer, however, was sweating buckets, visibly shrinking under Calliope’s glare.

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