The Abandoned and Terminally Ill Lady Married a Monster - Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Lying? I’m only telling the truth. Why do you think I’m lying?
Tears welled up, but I held them back. Crying here would only make Mother angrier. Years of experience had taught me that much.
“I really don’t know.”
“Can you take responsibility for those words?”
“…Yes.”
“Alright. Then we’ll search your room. That will tell us whether you’re telling the truth or not.”
My room wasn’t there. But in this situation, I couldn’t argue about such trivial matters. I kept my mouth shut and nodded.
* * *
Daykin strolled casually back into the mansion, oblivious to his earlier absence.
‘There’s no way they’d notice.’ He figured his mother was too preoccupied with managing his father’s affairs and his health to pay him any mind.
His servants, having been repeatedly dismissed by him, likely assumed he was still shut away in his room. They too would be focused on their ailing master, leaving them little time to attend to Daykin as they normally would.
That, he concluded, was how he managed to slip back into his room unnoticed. He exhaled deeply as he entered.
‘Has my body ever felt this light?’
Even after his condition stabilized earlier, he’d been worried about another surge on his way home. But it was a needless worry. Even if his power increased further, he felt he could handle it without any difficulty.
For a while, at least, nothing would happen unless his powers doubled.
‘I’ve heard that such an ability doesn’t exist.’
An ability that not only suppressed surges but also regulated another person’s power.
‘I should have just told her the truth, that I have powers too.’
Ailee’s face, so fragile as she spoke, “Did you hear everything?” had made him blurt out a lie.
He felt that if he admitted to hearing the twins’ cruel words, she might shatter like a bubble.
‘I wonder if she’ll be happy when I tell her next time.’
Daykin wiggled his clean palms. They still seemed to retain the feeling of her hair. Her eyes were so large, her face so small; he felt as though he might hurt her if he touched her too roughly.
He pictured Ailee’s white hair. Her bold words, repeatedly declaring her affection for him, echoed in his ears. Even though he was alone, he felt a blush creep up his cheeks.
Daykin decided to focus on something else. For instance, the hope that if he could stop his own surge, he might be able to stop his father’s as well.
‘No. If I ask her, someone who doesn’t even know she has powers, to stop Father’s surge, she might surge herself.’
Surges could be triggered by both an excess of power within the body and the overuse of power all at once. Ailee was leaking power without even knowing what kind she possessed, let alone how to control it.
Putting her near his father, who was already unstable, would significantly increase the risk of both of them surging.
‘Even if Father’s inherent power is weaker than mine, there’s a difference between an adult at the peak of his power and me, who hasn’t fully matured yet.’
After careful consideration, Daykin abandoned the idea. False hope could lead to the loss of both Ailee and his father. And that was the more likely outcome. Rationally, it was absurd to think that a child, barely beginning to understand her own abilities, could control the surge of an adult, especially the Duke of Blashur.
Daykin relinquished his hope. Despite his mother’s relentless efforts, his father’s condition had only worsened, never improved. Even a Conversion ability user, capable of absorbing others’ powers, had tried to alleviate the Duke’s burden, only to collapse, frothing at the mouth.
They said he hadn’t been able to walk for months and had only slept. A few more such ability users had tried, but they only endangered themselves; his father’s health remained unchanged.
They were all adults, the top of their field, and yet they failed. What could he expect from a child who didn’t even know what her powers were or how to use them?
It would be unconscionable. He should be eternally grateful that she had stopped his own surge. Of course, he desperately wanted to cling to any last hope of saving his father.
But he couldn’t risk an action that could kill them both. His expectations had already been significantly lowered, and part of him wanted to let his father rest, after all the medical procedures he had endured.
His father seemed exhausted from the constant surgeries and treatments, suffering from the side effects of potent medications. He wanted to let him go without further suffering. Of course, he still wanted to have those snowball fights with his father…
“If I collapse, don’t feel guilty. Don’t try to save me any further, just let me go. I know it’s disappointing, and it might hurt you to hear this, but I mean it. I want you to stop worrying about me. Sometimes, giving up is an act of courage. Do you understand, my son?” His father had looked so weary when he said those words…
‘Mother refuses to give up, but I…’
Still only fifteen, pretending to be an adult but still a child both inside and out, he couldn’t discern the right course of action. Such dilemmas likely plagued adults as well.
Daykin thought his father might be right. Dejected, he shook his head. He couldn’t afford to wallow in this house. His foolish mother, just like his father, would grieve.
‘I need to think about something else…’
Shaking off his gloom, Daykin suddenly remembered Ailee, chirping her affections. Today was her birthday, he recalled.
‘A birthday present…’
The thought made him freeze.
‘It’s not because I like her. I’m giving her a birthday present because she stopped my surge. It’s repaying a favor.’
Though no one had asked, he defended himself, his ears turning red as he muttered to himself, “What do girls usually like…?”
