Tail’s Curse Chapter 10

 

“So, it’s that illness, isn’t it? The mermaid’s curse.”  

 

“Sigh… It seems so.”  

 

“I thought that bloodline had completely died out… Well, even Marilyn was fine until she suddenly deteriorated like that…”  

 

Madame Devillier seemed lost in thought, her emotions tangled, and she fell silent for a moment. 

 

After a while, she spoke again in a suppressed tone, as if she had made up her mind.  

 

“I do pity that child, but I still can’t let her marry Jonathan. If it really is that illness, she doesn’t have much time left—I can’t bring in a bride who is destined to die.”  

 

“Darling, do you think I would oppose you? Even without that, I’ve always been against this marriage.”  

 

Lord Devillier spoke as though he had a headache.  

 

“Had we taken her in and raised her ourselves when Marilyn passed away, it might have been different. But that girl grew up exposed to a lowly environment and too much misfortune. It’s not her fault, but it’s hard to wash away the stains once they seep in. Misery has a way of spreading.”  

 

The cold words felt like a shallow cut across the chest. 

 

Cordelia unconsciously rubbed her own, but no blood seeped out.  

 

“Perhaps it’s a blessing that her father refused your proposal. If it was going to end like this anyway… It would have been too much sorrow for us—no, for Jonathan to bear. He would have grown too attached. Sending her off with some money is enough.”  

 

Madame murmured in a trembling voice. It seemed they still hadn’t fully overcome the grief of losing their firstborn son. 

 

Listening to Lord Devillier comforting his wife, Cordelia weakly crawled back into bed.  

 

The room and bedding she now had were far more luxurious than her station deserved. 

 

Reading the guilt of the Devillier couple in those extravagant accommodations—too much for a dying, unwanted guest to leave traces in—Cordelia covered her eyes with her arm.  

 

‘When I was little, we had a bed this splendid in our house, too. Though usually, it was Mother lying on it.’  

 

But even beside her mother, withering away like a dried flower, Cordelia had been happy.  

 

‘At least it was better than nothing.’

  

So, if Cordelia were to disappear from this world, who would miss her? She thought hard, but no one came to mind, and her heart grew heavy.  

 

Silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

 

🫧

 

The next day, as soon as I got into the carriage, I was slapped across the face.  

 

“You useless wench! Why did you hide that you were sick, huh? Do you have any idea what humiliation you’ve brought upon me?”  

 

My aunt raged furiously, but strangely, it didn’t feel as terrifying as before. 

 

Was it because I now knew I was going to die? 

 

Nothing in the world seemed to shake me as much as it once had. It was as if the glass barrier separating me from the world had shattered.  

 

Seeing my expressionless face, my aunt seemed unsettled and eventually fell silent. The rest of the ride back was filled with nothing but silence.  

 

As the sickly niece weakly pulled herself up, Cordelia watched her aunt’s retreating figure disappear into the mansion before slowly closing and opening her eyes. 

 

In just a day, her fate had changed. Physically, she didn’t feel any different though she was weak from coughing up so much blood, but she couldn’t believe she was going to die soon.  

 

What should she do now? She didn’t know.  

 

It felt despairing—or maybe she felt nothing at all.  

 

Staggering inside, she locked eyes with her father, who had been trembling with anticipation all day. 

 

It was the first time she had seen his face in nearly half a month. He must have already heard the news from her aunt because the moment he saw his doll-like daughter, his face twisted in disgust.  

 

When he stormed toward her, Cordelia might have held a sliver of hope.  

 

Not the naive expectation that he would wail, asking why she had to die, or that he would desperately search for a cure—nothing so ordinary. 

 

Just that he might show the slightest hint of panic, guilt, or even a speck of pity for his wretched daughter’s misfortune.  

 

Well, what foolish thoughts those were.  

 

Even as his rough, liquor-scented hands grabbed her collar and yanked her up, she stared blankly at him. His flushed face was twisted in utter repulsion.  

 

“You’re sick? Is it true? You’re not just scheming because you don’t want to get married, are you?”  

 

Her father’s violent reaction was almost despairing. 

 

Of course, no one here was ignorant of the fact that it had nothing to do with affection for his daughter.  

 

“It’s true, brother. She coughed up blood right in front of the Devillier! The same illness as that woman! Ugh, but it’s not contagious, is it?”

 

Her aunt snapped irritably before suddenly making a disgusted face, but her father didn’t even glance back as he spat out his words.  

 

“It’s a hereditary disease—how the hell would it spread, you idiot? Damn it, so now the marriage is off? Huh? My only cash cow’s gone rotten, is that it?”  

 

Her body was shaken violently, making her head throb with pain. She whimpered softly that it hurt, but none of them paid her any attention.  

 

“So the engagement’s definitely broken, then? What did the other side say?”  

 

“What do you think? They threw a fit, saying we tried to sell them a sick girl. Ugh, all that fake kindness, that high-class act—they put on a whole show, but the second they found out she was sick, they lost their minds. Nobles are disgusting, I tell you.”  

 

“Goddammit, you just stood there and watched? You should’ve done something to stop the breakup! Do you know how much that marriage was worth?”  

 

“How is her being sick my fault? Then why the hell did you marry a diseased woman in the first place?”  

 

Her heart ached. Cordelia couldn’t tell if it was from the pain of her illness or the sting of their barbed words. 

 

Struggling to breathe, she clawed at her father’s hand.  

 

“Please… let me go…”  

 

As if forgetting he had been shaking her, her father released her with an irritated flick, as though discarding something. She collapsed onto the wooden floor like a broken doll, and the two siblings stared down at her, preoccupied with how to salvage what was left of their ‘merchandise.’  

 

“Damn it, what do we do now? The debt’s due soon. If we can’t sell her, I’m finished. Completely ruined!”  

 

“What if we sell her as some old man’s concubine? She’s still young and decent-looking.”  

 

“Who the hell would want a girl who coughs up blood? They’d think it’s contagious and run the other way. Shit, would those men even take her? We’d be lucky if they don’t curse us out.”  

 

As her father scratched his head furiously, his eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. 

 

Cordelia, who had been coughing weakly, jerked her head up at his next words.  

 

“We’ll just sell this estate. Put it up for auction, cover what we can, and get the hell out of here.”  

 

No. Please, no.  

 

This was Marguerite—her mother’s beloved home. The only thing Cordelia had left. Even if it was a crumbling old mansion on the verge of collapse, it was her last shred of dignity and wealth.  

 

Before she knew it, she had latched onto her father’s leg, clinging desperately. 

 

No, Father, please… not this place…  

 

It was a foolish choice. Now that she had no value left as a commodity, they had no reason to tolerate her. 

 

Seeing his hand swing toward her, she shut her eyes. She was just… so tired.  

 

Exhausted beyond bearing.  

 

Ah, if only she could die quickly.  

 

Even so, she didn’t want to acknowledge that they had been lenient with her until now. Her entire body ached as if it might shatter, yet Cordelia had survived once again. 

 

A familiar, suffocating dread pressed down on her head like a heavy weight.  

 

“Weren’t you going to die?”  

 

Groaning through her split lips, Cordelia opened her eyes to see Dorea looking down at her with folded arms, sneering. 

 

The malice glinting in those brown eyes made her blink, and Dorea scowled in response.  

 

Dorea’s expression seemed torn between delight at Cordelia’s downfall and bewildered discomfort at the extremity of her tragedy. 

 

Should Cordelia at least take solace in the fact that this reaction was more human than her own father’s? She didn’t answer, and Dorea pouted her lips before scoffing.  

 

“You acted so high and mighty just because you had a fiancé like some prince on a white horse. Look at you now.”  

 

“…”  

 

“You’re no different from me now. Just a worthless woman. No—your situation’s even worse. At least I’m healthy. Right? I can still marry a man and have children. You? Even if they sell you off, you can’t bear kids in that state.”  

 

“…”  

 

“And what if you did? You’d just give birth to another sickly child like yourself. Isn’t that disease something your mother passed down to you?”  

 

At those words, Cordelia’s expression—unchanged until now—finally shifted. 

 

Startled, Dorea flinched for the first time before bristling and mocking her again.  

 

“Did I say something wrong? It’s the truth.”  

 

“Why are you doing this?”  

 

“What?”  

 

“What do you gain from hurting me? Does it make you feel good? Will you stop and leave if I cry?”