It Turned Out She Wasn't a Favored Concubine - Episode 68

I was about to stand up when I noticed Giscal’s presence. He was still lying with his head on my lap, bleeding from the wound on his leg. His blood soaked into the same carpet that had been laid out the day we left.

Suddenly, reality hit me hard.

“We… we need to treat him first…”

If this place was truly the one I knew, there was a chance. I could save Giscal. With trembling hands, I hurriedly laid him down properly. His breathing was faint. There was no time. This bizarre and abnormal situation could wait—saving him came first.

—Bang!

The door burst open. I was so startled I fell back onto my bottom. Having been in the dark for so long, the light pouring in from beyond the door hurt my eyes.

A dark silhouette stood on the threshold.

“C-could it be you?”

It wasn’t just the shadow that made him appear dark. A middle-aged man in a black robe—surprisingly, it was Parsen, looking down at me with a shocked expression.

“P-Parsen?”

I couldn’t understand why he was the first to rush into this room, but his appearance was far more natural than mine in this place.

I had heard that even after I returned to the palace, Parsen continued to stay at the Edelheit estate.

“Did you truly come here on your own?”

Parsen asked something, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. I just said what I needed to say.

“Huh? I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on. But I need you. I need a doctor! Please, quickly—look at Giscal!”

Only then did Parsen’s gaze shift to Giscal lying on the floor. His eyes scanned Giscal rapidly before stopping at the pool of blood.

“What happened?”

“Giscal got bitten by a wolf while trying to save me. He’s bleeding heavily. It won’t stop.”

Parsen rushed over. He grabbed a tablecloth and wrapped it tightly around Giscal’s wound.

“Hold this firmly. I’ll go get Butler Ortland immediately.”

“What? You’re the doctor—shouldn’t you treat him now? I’ll go get Ortland!”

“No, I’m not capable enough. We need to inform the butler and bring a real physician as soon as possible. And if the maids see your face, it could cause trouble later.”

Without waiting for my reply, Parsen disappeared beyond the door, closing it behind him. Giscal and I were left in darkness once again.

With trembling hands, I gripped the tablecloth Parsen had told me to hold. The white cloth was now soaked black. Giscal’s chest rose and fell faintly.

Please hurry, hurry, hurry…

That short wait for Parsen felt like an eternity. I clung to the tablecloth as if it were Giscal’s lifeline, gripping it with all my strength until the veins on the back of my hands bulged.

Finally, the door opened, and the tension in my body and mind melted away.

Had I been dreaming? Was it a hallucination?

The crimson light gradually rounded and rose into the dark sky. The autumn wind was chilly. People buttoned up their coats and hurried their steps.

‘Me’ included. ‘I’ buttoned up my black coat and walked along with the crowd.

I didn’t know where I was going. It was an unfamiliar place. The crowd began to disperse along the wide boulevard—some went underground, some climbed stairs, others entered alleys.

‘I’ kept walking forward. There was no need to look around. It was a path I always took. That path always had the same bus stop. ‘I’ looked at the faintly glowing numbers at the stop. I had to wait a bit longer. Waiting was always hard, even for just a few minutes.

So how must my family have felt, waiting days, months, years? My chest tightened.

‘I’ boarded the bus. Just like yesterday, it was crowded today. In the layers of people inside the bus, ‘I’ thought of my family waiting for me. Everyone on the bus was heading toward someone waiting for them.

So was I. That was my greatest support. It was so big and powerful that it alone was enough. Everything I had left behind in the past meant nothing. The bus showed the usual scenery outside the window and stopped at the usual spot.

‘I’ got off and walked again. The wind grew colder. In the distance, I saw a familiar apartment building. Old and worn, with peeling paint, but so familiar. My body knew where to go.

It moved naturally, almost instinctively. I grabbed the railing, turned right, climbed three steps, walked up the sloped hallway, and pressed the button. Then I flinched. My face was reflected in the mirror covered with stickers advertising store phone numbers.

No—it wasn’t my face.

No—it was me.

Suddenly, I was confused.

Familiar yet unfamiliar.

Unfamiliar yet familiar.

That black bob, black eyes, round face, short eyebrows, thin lips, drooping eyes, and deep eyelids were definitely ‘me.’

And yet, not me. I touched my face with both hands. I felt my lips, nose, eyebrows, and forehead. The elevator doors opened. Mirrors on both sides reflected me. I ran out of the elevator. Instead, I climbed the stairs.

It was a long climb, but I hated mirrors. Just hated them. Every time I turned, the crimson light flickered on. Then off. On. Off. As I got closer, the confusion faded.

I couldn’t remember what had confused me. The crimson light flickered one last time. I quickly reached into my bag and pulled out a key. Old but precious. I inserted it into the keyhole and turned the handle.

It opened. Of course it did. It was the key to this door. At this hour, everyone was home. I opened the door joyfully. Familiar bright light poured out.

“!”

I couldn’t remember what I screamed. I woke up drenched in cold sweat. Someone shaking my shoulder jumped back in surprise.

“Are you alright? I’m Butler Ortland. Do you recognize me?”

I slowly turned my head and saw Ortland’s dignified face under candlelight.

His expression flickered gravely in the candlelight. The hazy illusion vanished, and reality came crashing in. The blood-red river flowing toward death. I asked the most important question.

“G-Giscal… what happened to him?”

My voice trembled uncontrollably. Ortland waved his hands gently to calm me and answered quickly.

“The master is fine. He’s already regained consciousness and is resting in the next room.”

“Ah…”

The soft sigh didn’t come from my mouth—it came from deep within my heart, a groan of relief.

“His leg wound?”

“The family physician treated it immediately. He’ll be fine with a few weeks of proper rest. There’s no need to worry.”

Thank goodness. Truly. Tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly wiped them away and let my legs hang off the bed. My muddy dress had somehow been replaced with a clean indoor one.

“I need to see him. You said he’s in the next room?”

“Yes, but… just a moment…”

Ortland gently stopped me. I looked at him questioningly, and he hesitated before speaking.

“Well… since Lord Giscal regained consciousness first, I’ve heard a rough account of what happened in the Gilberan Forest. You went through a lot. I’m truly glad you returned safely.”

Ortland’s wrinkled eyes were slightly swollen. He genuinely seemed relieved at my safe return.

But I could tell right away. Ortland had something else he truly wanted to say.

“However, when you two were facing the wolves, Lady Arne reportedly told Lord Giscal that she wasn’t his younger sister. What did you mean by that…?”

Ortland hesitated but kept his gaze fixed on me. I recalled that life-or-death moment. As he said, surrounded by wolves, I had revealed the secret. It was something that had to be addressed.

For both Giscal and me.

“I meant exactly what I said. Giscal seemed to already know. Ortland… you knew too, didn’t you?”

If Ortland hadn’t known, Giscal wouldn’t have entrusted him with this role. Ortland nodded weakly.

“Yes, I knew. But I kept the secret hidden. So I, too, must atone for my sins to you.”

“Sins…? Ortland, you had no choice. How could you go against the orders of the late Marquis Edelheit?”

“What? The late master?”

Ortland was startled and repeated the question.

“The late master… why… ahem, no, what I meant to say is…”

He coughed awkwardly, unable to organize his thoughts.

“Huh? The late Marquis Edelheit prepared a child to switch for the sake of the Marchioness, right? Are you saying he didn’t orchestrate it?”

Could it be that Director Kessiam had written something wrong in his notebook? I looked at Ortland’s expression suspiciously.

“…”

Ortland’s eyebrows twitched constantly, and his pupils trembled fiercely. He seemed to be thinking intensely and anxiously, to the point where I was watching his reaction more than he was watching mine.

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