To My First Love, With Regret (Libenia) Chapter 38

Ethan ground out his audacious wish through clenched teeth.

“I want to take the Dukedom of Kentrell.”

It was the only way to clear his grandfather’s false charges and restore his honor. Changing the Kentrell dukes’ surname to Fairchild—the name the Sherwoods so despised—was just a bonus.

Of course, first he’d have to push every last Sherwood into hell so they could watch the devil they’d created trample them underfoot.

“U-haha!”

Jack Fairchild’s hearty laughter echoed through the hushed night street.

“Such grand ambitions—worthy of a man. That audacity—the desire to take revenge on your enemy for what they’ve done—is exactly like my son.”

He nodded in satisfaction and promised:

“Good. Your father will give you the Dukedom of Kentrell as a gift.”

“No. I’ll take revenge with my own hands.”

Slowly.

Agonizingly.

I’ll choke them until they can’t breathe.

---

“Miss, your letter was published in the newspaper. When the duke found out, he fainted again.”

Two days after the secret delivery of the letter, Chantal brought this joyful news.

But the most longed-for news—that Ethan had been acquitted and released—still didn’t come, no matter how long she waited. That old man, one foot in the grave, was clearly stubbornly blocking it, as if even hell didn’t scare him.

A month passed like this. A maid who pitied Eve—slowly going mad in her confinement in the mansion—secretly whispered to her while serving lunch:

“Lady, they say Ethan Fairchild will be released today, so please gather your strength.”

“Really?… How was he released?”

“It seems Jack Fairchild pulled strings.”

That meant his family hadn’t had to sacrifice themselves again because of her family, unlike last time. Eve exhaled in relief and muttered words of gratitude.

Who would have thought the day would come when a gang leader would seem like her savior? Then again, her father was now no different from a gang leader acting within the law, so she had no right to morally despise anyone.

Eve felt as if this long-awaited good news had lifted a weight from her heart. The maid, for some reason, watched her expression and spoke cautiously:

“And so the duke just fainted again.”

In fact, Eve had seen through the window the servants carrying him on their backs and loading him into a car. She’d thought his body had finally given out from the poison oozing from his filthy soul—but it turned out there was another reason.

Her father must have thought he was the eternal king of this castle. Until a new strong player appeared and brought him to his knees.

Ah, what bliss.

Eve, like someone who hadn’t breathed for a month, inhaled the sweet air and asked:

“Is the duke still alive?”

The maid was no longer surprised by Eve’s disrespect toward her father.

“We don’t know yet. There’s been no word from the hospital.”

Ah. Father, please die.

Then she would remarry Ethan and take control of the family. It would be fair payment for this bitter time of suffering.

---

Unfortunately, her father didn’t seem to die that day. The guards still wouldn’t let Eve take a step out of her room. Or did it seem like surveillance had gotten even stricter?

They were even guarding under her window. Though all the windows had been nailed shut anyway.

Last week, when her father’s oppression and attention had eased, the servants had moved Eve from the attic back to her bedroom.

“Lady, why aren’t you eating again?”

The maid who came to clear dinner was surprised to see the untouched food. Eve had been staring out the window all day, unblinking. And no wonder—lately, Eve had been eating so desperately, as if afraid she’d starve to death if she didn’t eat right then. That wasn’t an exaggeration. It was survival instinct.

But today, she couldn’t eat. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she waited for Ethan.

He might come for me.

Now he had the power to do so. Eve, as always since being confined to the mansion, stared at the lighthouse. At least tonight, her eyes were full of hope.

The lighthouse continued to illuminate the sea, though the keeper Eve knew was gone. There must be a new one now. She was just sinking into her usual thoughts about the transience of life.

A procession of yellow headlights stretched along the road on the cliff, passing by the mansion. In this city, only the Kentrell family had the money and power to drive in a convoy of five or six cars.

Then these must be Jack Fairchild’s people.

Ethan has returned.

He’s probably going home to get the things he left behind. On the way back, he’ll come to get his wife—the one he left behind. This time, I might have to watch armed gang members break in and clash with the guards.

I don’t want anyone else to shed blood.

Besides, Eve had never intended to sit obediently like a princess in a castle, waiting for a knight to rescue her.

I’ll go to Ethan myself.

She had waited for this day, planning her escape every day and even rehearsing. The time had come to put the plan into action.

Eve took a box of matches from the mantelpiece and opened it. She grabbed a whole bundle at once and struck them.

Fwoosh.

She threw the bundle of matches—instantly becoming a ball of fire—onto the carpet in front of her bedroom door. The flames greedily engulfed the door. Now the fire would be visible from outside.

Crash!

Eve threw a vase, breaking the window, and screamed:

“Fire! Help!”

Just as she’d thought. Her father had ordered her locked up, but apparently, he hadn’t ordered her burned alive.

“Fire!” the guards under the window immediately shouted, hastily looking around. There was no ladder, of course.

“Lady, jump! We’ll catch you!”

The height wasn’t that great. She might break a bone, but it wouldn’t threaten her life. At least, not hers.

“I’m scared. I can’t.”

While she cried and stalled, someone brought a ladder. A guard climbed up, broke the window, and pulled Eve out.

The moment her feet touched the ground, Eve lost consciousness and collapsed.

“What do we do?”

The guards exchanged flustered whispers. They were supposed to lock her up again, but they couldn’t carry her back into a burning mansion. And from inside, the butler was already shouting for them to put out the fire.

“Call… a maid…”

The lady in the guard’s arms, half-conscious, called for a maid. Only then did the men understand what to do. Spotting a maid who had run out of the mansion, they called her over and handed the girl to her.

The fact that they carried Eve to a bench away from the flames before running to put out the fire was remarkably courteous of them.

“Water…”

Eve grabbed the maid’s skirt and begged. The maids weren’t as vigilant as the guards. As expected, the maid left her alone and ran to the kitchen. Eve immediately stood up, as if she’d never fainted.

No one had received a script, but everyone had acted exactly according to Eve’s plan. The feeling of having fooled her jailers was intoxicating.

The guards had all flocked to the mansion. The garden was empty. No one chased the bird flying out of that large, luxurious cage.

Eve was on the road again. This time, she didn’t run toward the city. She ran toward the lighthouse—toward Ethan.

---

The cottage below the lighthouse was beginning to take shape. The convoy of headlights drove out of the yard and headed toward her.

She was happy, but she didn’t throw herself under the wheels. She could be run over like a deer darting out in the dark. She stepped off the road and stood still, waiting for Ethan to approach.

The light from the first car illuminated Eve. Pressing her hand to her chest—ready to leap out of her chest with anticipation—she peered into the faces in the car. But he wasn’t in the first one, or the second. Eve clenched her fists, suppressing her anxiety, and bit her lower lip hard.

The moment the light from the third car flooded over Eve, her eyes met the man in the back seat.

“Ethan!”

Tears streamed from her eyes. From joy—and from pity.

How he must have suffered. His soft, gentle student features had roughened, like a sailor who’d weathered a storm. In his sharp, wild-beast gaze was written the weight of the past month—when he hadn’t been able to relax his guard for a single moment.

But why—piercing me with that sharp gaze—was he just driving past?

“Ethan! Ethan!”

She called him again and again, but the car didn’t stop. Eve, frozen in shock, nailed to the spot, watched the car drive away in bewilderment.

Ethan is leaving me behind.

It was impossible to believe—but also impossible to deny.

He had recognized her. His gaze had spoken of anger and disgust. Toward Eve.

Why… toward me?

The words he had once thrown at an innocent Eve washed over her like waves at the foot of the cliff.

“You’re a Sherwood, after all.”

I… I went crazy wanting my own father and brother dead. I renounced the Sherwoods.

Only for you.

For you—a selfish man who didn’t believe in my sincerity or my love.