My Arrogant and Insolent Shadow - Chapter 55

As she picked up the envelope containing the clear vial, the pill inside rolled softly.

A dry, emotionless voice spoke from above.

“You were told to write a letter once a month.”

“…What?”

The man rolled his eyes, gave her a once-over, then continued speaking.

“If you want to keep receiving the medicine, it would be wise to follow that instruction.”

It wasn’t a direct command, but more of a suggestion, which only made things more confusing.

She had so many questions. But now that she was face to face with someone from Blanchet, the words caught in her throat. It felt like a thorn was stuck there, and she couldn’t speak at all.

Did he mean she should continue sending the letters the same way she had been?

If that was all it took, then maybe…

After saying what he came to say, the man quickly disappeared, as if his task was done.

Because of that, Yurisiel didn’t get the chance to ask anything.

In her open palm, the glass vial and the single pill shimmered faintly.

It didn’t take long for her to understand the situation.

One thing was clear.

Someone had read her letter, and they had sent a reply. That meant yes.

But it wasn’t a full or certain yes.

Only one pill had been sent. It gleamed inside the vial, shining faintly in the light.

Now, she understood what the steward had meant when he told her to keep writing letters.

It wasn’t simply advice. It had been a warning. Without a letter, there would be no medicine.

Of course, it wasn’t a difficult task.

All she had to do was write a few lines filled with carefully crafted lies. If that was enough to receive the medicine, then it was a small price to pay.

If living like that meant her mother could be cured, then she didn’t mind at all.

Even so, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Shamefully, she realized she had started to want something more.

Her chest felt tight, and it became hard to take a proper breath.

She began to wonder if this would be her life now. Bound to him, unable to escape, living day by day without a clear future.

There was a time when she would have felt lucky just to survive like that. So why was she having these thoughts now?

Still, despite everything, she found herself worrying about what would happen next.

He was someone who could abandon her at any time.

What if he changed his mind?

Maybe her letter had caught his interest this time, and maybe she had secured a brief chance. But what if he stood tall as the Lord of Blanchet, found a new family, and moved on?

Would he still give her the medicine then?

The smell of burnt bread filled the bakery. She had lost track of time while baking. The shopkeeper’s voice echoed faintly in the background.

On any other day, she would have been scolded or kicked out. But even when the shopkeeper didn’t say much, Yurisiel didn’t notice anything strange.

Her mind was already full of thoughts about the young master.

Like someone under a spell, she wandered back toward the mansion.

Every time she entered that enormous house, she felt like she was committing a crime. It was too big, too luxurious for someone like her and her mother.

Even when the young master still lived there, she at least had the excuse of being his servant. Now, without any purpose, she felt like a parasite.

What made it worse was occasionally running into the Lord.

And once again, as she walked through the hallway that led to her mother’s room, she saw him standing there.

This corridor didn’t lead to his office, nor was it connected to his room.

Why was he here? Why did they keep meeting in this spot?

Was it just coincidence?

“Ahem. Are you doing alright here? Is there anything you need?”

His eyes briefly glanced toward her mother’s room. There was something suspicious about it.

Maybe she was only reacting this way because of all the rumors she had heard about him.

“No. Thanks to your concern, I’m fine.”

Only then did the Lord clear his throat and leave the hallway.

Today, more than ever, Yurisiel wished she could leave this place.

Even if she could never escape the young master’s grasp, she still wanted to get away from Alphonse.

But for now, it was impossible.

Pressing her lips together, she walked past him and entered her room.

Her mother, sitting gracefully on the bed, was knitting as usual. When she saw Yurisiel, she smiled gently.

Seeing her mother, Jane, brought her some relief, and she let out a bright smile of her own.

The heaviness from earlier disappeared completely. Her smile came naturally.

“Mom, take this. You should have it.”

When Jane saw the pill, her smile faded.

Her face filled with worry almost instantly.

“Yurisiel, I don’t want you to suffer because of me. If this is too much…”

“Mom, don’t say things like that. I’m not suffering at all.”

Jane took a deep breath and stared at the empty vial in Yurisiel’s hand.

“Where did you get this medicine?”

“Where do you think? You know I’ve been earning money translating Louvrean. I guess I have a real talent for it. Today, Mr. Ritorn from the bookstore even…”

Yurisiel kept talking, watching her mother’s worried expression carefully.

It took a while before the shadow disappeared from Jane’s face.

Once Yurisiel saw a bit of brightness return to her mother’s expression, she stood up, smiled softly, and left the room.

She closed the door and walked silently through the hallway back to her room. As she walked, the gray shadow returned to her face.

Her eyes wandered to a familiar door.

The room where the young master once stayed was now completely empty.

In the past, every time she passed that door, she would hold her breath. But now, she could walk by without fear.

That should have been a good thing.

Yes. Everything had turned out for the best.

It was because the young master had eventually gone to the capital. And it was also because Yurisiel had now begun receiving the medicine.

After organizing her thoughts, Yurisiel returned to her room, picked up a book like she always did, and continued copying texts by hand.

Copying was not just routine. It was tied to her dream.

The dream of becoming independent.

She could not live off others in this place forever.

Her determination grew stronger every time she saw the Lord’s smooth, insincere face.

Today was no different.

Over time, her dream had become more detailed.

From what she had learned, if she managed to land a job in the imperial administration, she would be provided with housing.

Even the salary would be far higher than she could ever hope for in her current situation.

Of course, as a commoner and a woman, she could not expect to become a full administrator. But even being hired as an assistant or secretary would completely change her quality of life.

The problem was that she needed to earn the top score on the civil service exam.

As a woman of common birth, she would need to prove that she was far more capable than her peers, and that proof had to come through her exam results.

Still, if her desperation was strong enough, perhaps even the gods would recognize her effort.

The dream of living an ordinary life with her mother, sharing meals and daily routines like any other family, began to take clearer form in her heart.

If that dream came true, she would no longer have to stay here feeling like a burden.

She continued writing for quite some time.

But each time she finished a sentence and placed a period at the end, the image of the young master appeared again in her thoughts.

One letter every month.

If she waited until next month to send it, it might seem too obvious.

Today, she felt she should write the letter first.

Though her hands felt heavy, Yurisiel finally moved her pen and began writing.

To the Young Master,

I heard that temperatures in the capital are falling quickly. I hope you are doing well.

The reason I am writing is simply to say thank you.

Thank you very much for sending the medicine.

I will never forget your kindness and will repay it for the rest of my life.

The letter arrived sooner than expected.

Cassian had assumed he would wait a full month, but as always, she broke his expectations.

Though in truth, it might have been better if she had waited.

The handwriting was neat and firm. Not even a hint of hesitation showed in the strokes.

Of course. It was not a desperate confession of love, but a polite letter filled only with words of thanks.

Every sentence, from “Thank you” to “I will repay you,” was carefully chosen to draw a line between them.

It was clear that she had thought very hard about how to sound as formal and distant as possible.

That fact alone irritated him more than he expected.

Repay his kindness for the rest of her life. As if she even knew what he wanted.

Tap. Tap.

Cassian’s fingers drummed softly against the table.

Each tap brought her back into his mind.

That girl from Alphonse. The one who had once said she would do anything. The one who had come into his room, trembling. The one who now moved through his greenhouse like a butterfly, completely free, as if none of it had ever happened.

Maybe that fool had complained this time, asking why only one pill was given.

Or maybe he could not even say that much and truly believed, just as his letter said, that he was genuinely thankful.

Whatever thoughts he had, the conclusion was the same.

His letters would continue to arrive regularly, always on time.

Just as Cassian’s thoughts began to slow, a knock broke the silence.

“Come in.”

Baymon stepped inside, bowed quickly, and spoke.

“The Master has returned.”

The Master referred to the head of the Blanchet family. Deviron de Blanchet had come back.

His return came earlier than expected, surprising even Cassian’s mother, who had guessed he would return sometime next month.

“This is the medicine sent by the Madam,” Baymon said.

Cassian held a small, clear pill in his hand.

It was a strong painkiller, typically used in emergencies.

The reason was simple. It would temporarily numb the pain, but once the effect wore off, the pain would come back even stronger.

Cassian looked at the pill and gave a quiet, bitter laugh.

This household had never truly known peace. It had always been a battlefield.

His father’s return from the latest mission likely meant a wave of loyal followers and renewed tension.

The pill would give him just two hours of calm.

Would God, during that brief time, choose to favor his mother or his uncle?

Once again, Cassian found himself facing a critical test.

He gave a small nod, then looked at the glass nearby. Without taking a sip, he swallowed the pill dry.

Baymon, watching in silent fear, quickly stepped back and left the room.

Cassian rose slowly and began walking, his footsteps steady as he moved across the floor and headed downstairs.

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