If You Leave Without a Word - Chapter 18
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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However, as that plan backfired, Stella’s anger is unlikely to subside easily.
Just like she did with Agatha’s maids before coming of age, Stella now personally wielded the whip against Agatha.
Without any resistance, as usual, Agatha was led by the maids and stood against the wall.
Occasionally, noblewomen might use such methods to discipline maids during their education, but the idea of an aristocratic lady being whipped was something that could never happen in reality.
And that, too, daring to whip the lady Kristin. If the Knights of Kristin were still around, the Count’s mansion could have been in ruins immediately.
Only Stella knew how atrocious her actions were in this place.
“Do you think you can live freely once you escape from my grasp?”
Swish, thud.
“Ah…”
Agatha was immediately overwhelmed by intense pain. She tasted the bitter flavor of blood on her bitten lips.
“After all the education I’ve given you for so long, you still don’t listen.”
Swish, thud.
Agatha’s skin was torn apart by the pain, and her breath was constricted. She was particularly delicate and fragile, so even a single whipping left her with significant wounds.
Swish, thud.
By the fourth lash, something warm trickled down her back. It seemed like her skin had burst, and blood was flowing. Agatha’s shoulders trembled thinly as she endured the pain.
“I don’t know how you managed to charm that illustrious Marquis Vernat, but I won’t stop this until you promise never to do such a thing again.”
It was a pain that Agatha could never get used to.
Wherever the whip touched and fell, her fragile skin revealed a deep, crimson hue. The sight was so terrifying that even the servants who discreetly observed from behind the Countess turned pale.
Agatha’s nightdress was gradually stained with blood, and Liana, unable to bear witness any longer, tightly closed her eyes. Stella continued to wield the whip as if her sole purpose was to hurt and torment Agatha.
Her purpose was to somehow instill shame and pain in Agatha, preventing her from thinking clearly. Stella conducted this whipping in front of the servants for that very reason. She believed that if her niece became mentally unhinged in this way, she would be easy to manipulate.
Thanks to this, the servants were forced to witness their honored lady’s humiliating ordeal against their will.
Swish, thud.
Agatha’s lips, which had been biting down, finally burst, and blood began to flow.
If she could just endure a little longer, the whipping would come to an end. Just a bit longer… all pain had its end. Agatha muttered to herself, forcibly trying to regain her consciousness, which was fading due to the tremendous pain.
“Huh… it’s harsh.”
She must have received around ten lashes. Swinging a rather heavy whip like that took a toll on Stella’s stamina. Sweat dripped down Stella’s forehead.
In the past, Agatha, who would have been crying and begging at her feet after receiving just a few lashes, now strangely endured the whipping well. Stella found the sight of her niece with reddened lips, seemingly becoming strangely resistant to the pain, unpleasant.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
Her voice, sharp enough to cut through the air, pierced the silence. Yet, despite the threat in her voice, Agatha remained unresponsive.
“It seems like you’re deluded, Thinking you can escape from me. I might as well make the truth clear to you.”
“…”
“If you don’t continue to repent, I’ll grab you by the hair and drag you in front of the Princess.”
Stella’s shoulders twitched in frustration. Agatha, with her head bowed and a mocking tone, spoke as if even a single shallow breath carried a sense of greed.
It wasn’t enough that Agatha disgraced the family; she was more afraid of already offending the princess and jeopardizing the approval of Agatha’s marriage to John.
“Mother.”
An unexpected voice stopped Stella’s chastisement. All the servants in the room, who had been waiting with bated breath for Stella’s next move, turned their heads toward the source of the sound.
Through the slightly open door, Christian Calvino, the second son of Count Calvino, was peering into the room. Christian had voluntarily joined the imperknights to avoid being a threat to his older brother, who was set to inherit their father’s title, and he was the only sensible person in the Calvino family.
Liana, with a glimmer of hope in her eyes as if she had found a savior, quickly signaled for Christian to come to their aid. But Christian didn’t pay any attention to the servants.
“I think it’s best if you stop and come out here.”
