Reincarnated as the Villain's Father Chapter 29: Forever

Annabel’s POV

The maids woke early this morning, dragging to the bath in a haze of exhaustion. They washed thoroughly, and by the ti I finally ca to my senses, I asked them why I was being prepared so ticulously. Their answer: Lord Leonardo would be arriving at the manor today.

I don’t know why, but the re possibility of seeing Leonardo today made my heart race. This strange, unfamiliar emotion was not sothing I could easily shake off. His absence had left a strange void within . Perhaps without even realizing it, I was becoming attached to him.

His recent change in deanor, his softened attitude, might be affecting more deeply than I’m willing to admit. He’s been treating with such gentleness and care lately... so of my darkest mories have begun to blur. As if those days of tornt belonged to another life entirely. But that’s not the truth.

I haven’t forgotten what he did to . I can’t forget. The nights when he violated every boundary of my body, when fear and helplessness etched themselves into my soul... And yet now, when I see that sa man holding our son in his arms, looking at him with such tenderness it shatters sothing inside . My mind insists it’s all just an illusion. But my heart... my heart is uncertain.

Because those sa hands, the ones that once hurt , have now offered a gift. Not just an apology but sothing priceless in this world: a technique artifact.

I don’t know what it cost him to obtain it. But the re act of giving it to ... for a mont, it made feel like more than just a worthless slave. That glowing thing in my hands opened another wound in my heart. Why did he do it? Was it guilt? Atonent? Or... yet another manipulation?

These questions spin endlessly in my mind. But worst of all, my thoughts of him are no longer bound by fear or hatred alone. Into this storm has crept another, far more dangerous emotion: Gratitude. And worse still... expectation.

I can’t forgive myself. Every ti I catch myself wanting to forgive him, I loathe myself a little more. And yet... every ti he cos near, sothing inside stirs. A tremor that oscillates between fear... and hope.

Perhaps so foolish part of still believes he might truly change one day. Or perhaps... he already has? Who knows?

When I see him today... I don’t know how I’ll be able to look him in the eye.

Will he still love our son? Will he speak to without touching ? Or will he return to what he once was?

Just imagining the possibilities tears apart.

And yet, I prepare. My hair is brushed. My dress was carefully chosen. Every ti I look into the mirror, a stranger stares back at ; not a slave, not a lady, just a woman lost in chaos.

And the heart of that chaos... is no longer just fear.

It’s a longing I’m ashad to na: the desire to be loved. To be seen as worthy.

"Leonardo..."

____________________

-Hours later-

Lady Rebecca and I waited together in the courtyard of the estate. Alongside servants and knights, we stood at the end of the long stone path leading to the manor’s gates. My eyes flicked toward Lady Rebecca, Leonardo’s sister.

I suspect the technique artifact Leonardo gave wasn’t the only one he possessed. Since he left, Rebecca has spent nearly every waking mont training. She helped absorb my technique and even gave occasional advice to improve it. She’s a kind woman. But strangely, her kindness seems reserved only for and my son, Lucareth. Toward the servants and most others, she is aloof and distant. Perhaps she only values her family.

And if that’s the case... does she see and my son as part of hers?

The thought ward my heart in an odd way. I even caught myself smiling like a fool.

When Lady Rebecca glanced at from the corner of her eye, I quickly straightened up. Her silver hair was neatly pressed, her crimson dress accentuating her dazzling blue eyes. For soone I usually saw in worn training clothes and tousled hair, this polished elegance was... striking.

She seed to care deeply about her brother. The way she prepared for his arrival, her elegance, her poise... it spoke volus. They had recently gone on a dungeon expedition together. Maybe they’d grown closer during that ti.

Then, a strange thought crept into my mind.

Was there... sothing different between Rebecca and Leonardo?

I felt ashad even entertaining the question. It couldn’t be. They were siblings. Even if only half-siblings, that line must never be crossed. Couldn’t be crossed.

But... there was a certain warmth in the way Rebecca looked at him. A softness reserved only for him, hidden beneath her otherwise cold and distant deanor.

Maybe I’m just imagining it. Maybe I’m just... jealous?

That thought frightened .

When does a person feel jealousy? Not over what they possess but what they’re afraid to lose. And the mont I asked myself that question, sothing inside unraveled only to tangle into sothing even more complicated.

If I’m jealous... doesn’t that an I imagine him belonging to soone else?

And if that "soone else" is his own sister... or half-sister?

Among the nobility, such rumors always circulate like whispers in the dark. Power and blood often blur the lines of morality. Especially when survival, secrets, and bloody dungeons are involved. The imperial history is filled with tales of incestuous marriages. Half-siblings wed for politics. Cousins bonded for power. In nobility, bloodlines often matter more than decency.

But Rebecca... she didn’t seem like that. She looked cold, strict, reserved and not soone who could harbor such twisted passion. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my short life, it’s to never say never.

Thinking of her that way felt wrong. And yet, another emotion stirred in : comparison.

If he truly cared for Rebecca... then why would he care for ?

If he gave her one technique artifact... and another... Was mine just a consolation prize? A pity gift?

I hate myself for caring. Not because I truly believe it matters but because I hope it does.

Because sowhere deep down, I still pray I have a place in his eyes.

Just then, the sound of hooves echoed across the stone path. The servants stiffened, the knights aligned. Rebecca straightened slightly. The mont had co.

As the hoofbeats drew closer, my heart clenched in my chest. My breath quickened, my hands clutched the fabric of my dress. When I finally raised my head, I saw the carriage at the head of the convoy approaching, surrounded by n in knight and so people on horseback.

I expected Leonardo to step out first. But instead, a woman erged.

And in that mont... ti stopped.

She was impossibly beautiful. Hair black as night, skin pale like porcelain but not lifeless. No, it radiated a strange, hypnotic vitality. Her eyes... white. Lifeless, soulless, but when they t mine for a fleeting instant, every hair on my body stood on end.

Her hourglass-shaped, moved with graceful confidence. She wore no noblewoman’s gown, no warrior’s armor, just a sleek, flowing, dark outfit that seed to drink the light. But what struck first wasn’t what she wore... It was what she was.

She reeked of danger. But she was as well... a riddle wrapped in allure.

And then I saw the child.

A blonde-haired boy, five or six years old. He looked nothing like her. No trace of her features on his face. His mouth curved downward slightly, his eyes a soft blue, nothing like Leonardo’s icy stare. His hair glead golden.

Still... he held her hand. And she... acted like his mother. The way she looked at him, pulled him close... it was maternal affection. They walked together.

And behind them... ca Leonardo.

He wore no armor. Just a dark gray embroidered coat. He looked tired, but as well... complete. As if whatever he’d left behind, he had now returned with sothing or soone to fill the gap.

As his eyes scanned the gathered crowd, they paused on . I quickly looked down.

Jealousy stabbed through like a cold needle. I glanced at the woman again. She was still beside him. The child clung to her cloak as they walked in step.

We... we were like his past, and they were his future.

My throat went dry. I swallowed, but the knot refused to pass.

Beside , I felt the tension in Rebecca’s body. Her face remained expressionless, chin lifted, spine straight. But won can read won.

The faint glance she gave the mysterious woman, a flicker of sharpness behind a veil of poise, was like a blade hidden in silk. Jealousy cloaked in civility.

Rebecca would never admit it. Never show it. But I could feel it. Just as she must have felt the trembling inside .

Three won. All orbiting around him.

One, his past. One, his present. And one... perhaps a dangerous future.

Rebecca was strong. Patient. But that woman... she was sothing else.

No one even knew her na, and yet her shadow had already fallen over us.

Leonardo approached. The servants bowed slightly. The knights saluted. Rebecca greeted her brother, but did not et his gaze. He walked toward us, still holding the woman’s hand.

"Rebecca," he said first, and then turned to . "Annabel," he said softly, his voice low and steady. "I’m glad to see you both again."

The sound of my na on his lips nearly made my heart leap out of my chest. I avoided his eyes. Even his scent, masculine and unmistakably his, made my cheeks burn. I think... I understood my feelings now.

They weren’t just longing to be loved. But the desire to love in return.

I... had feelings for the man who ruined my life. To be honest... I think I fell in love with him.

And now I had rivals. Just like in fairy tales, I would have to fight for love.

I...

I...

I don’t know how or what to do. But I feel like I have to do sothing.

Because right now... It feels like I’m about to lose everything.

Forever.