When the Villains Unite - Chapter 16: Trace (4)

After Rose disappeared from the imperial palace’s third-floor office of the Royal Knights’ Commander, a heavy silence fell upon the room.

Belhark slowly swept his gaze across the mess that was left behind. The carpet soaked with strong vodka, the shattered bottle scattered across it, the disarrayed desk and bookshelves that had been crushed under something heavy.

Finally, his eyes landed on the undeniable traces of what had transpired—marks of betrayal—and then shifted to the figure slumped against the doorframe. Belhark began to walk toward him.

With every deliberate step, Damian could feel the sharp waves of magical energy emanating from him. Each one pierced through him like a dagger.

Still, Damian didn’t move. He sat silently, staring at the ground, showing no intention of resistance. His gaze was fixed on the luxurious red carpet, where suspicious stains had seeped into the fabric.

“No excuses, I presume?” Belhark’s voice was cold, biting.

“…….”

Damian wished Belhark would destroy him completely, leave him in a state where he could never recover. After all, repentance was not his to claim unless Rose allowed it.

Yet deep down, he knew there was something selfish in his thoughts. A part of him believed that if Belhark didn’t punish him, he wouldn’t be able to face her again. And in spite of the pain he’d caused Rose, Damian couldn’t suppress the selfish desire to remain by her side.

That desire disgusted him. Even the tears he had shed thinking about her felt repulsive, so much so that he’d long since stopped crying.

Belhark stared down at him without a trace of emotion, his face blank. It had been years—perhaps since their childhood—since he’d last seen his younger brother cry.

But Belhark felt no sympathy for him. If Damian hadn’t shown any sign of remorse, Belhark would have removed him from Rose’s life without hesitation, even if he was his own brother.

Yet, he couldn’t ignore the memory of how, during the brief time Damian had been absent, Rose had leaned on him, visibly longing for her brother’s presence.

When they were younger, Belhark had often thought Rose was distant and cold, but he later realized it was merely a façade she had built to protect herself. Now he knew better than anyone how warm and kind-hearted she truly was, and he was certain that Damian’s absence would leave her struggling in ways she might never admit.

Damian stood before Belhark, facing him squarely, his emotions buried deep. The silence between them stretched on, sharp and dangerous, as though a blade lingered in the air, daring someone to shatter it.

And shatter it did, with the heavy sound of a blow.

The impact echoed through the room as Belhark’s strike landed. Unlike before, Damian didn’t crumble. Even when his stance faltered, he straightened himself again, enduring the pain without a word.

The brutal, repetitive strikes only stopped when Damian finally collapsed, too broken to rise again.

“Cough…!”

Damian spat out a mouthful of blood, his body battered and bruised, barely holding itself together after Belhark’s final blow.

Belhark, coldly gazing down at Damian’s battered form, pulled a handkerchief from his chest pocket and wiped the blood from his hands. He then meticulously erased all traces of Rose and his beaten, unconscious brother from the room.

Through his hazy vision, Damian watched the scene, blinking sluggishly.

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking it’s over with this,” Belhark said icily.

“…….”

“Today, you willingly loosened the reins she was holding.”

Damian bit his lip so hard it bled, his jaw tightening. He didn’t need the reminder—he was painfully aware of the situation.

“If you want her to take hold of your leash again, you’d better beg properly.”

“…….”

“I will abide by her decision,” Belhark concluded, his voice tinged with a warning. If Rose decided to cast Damian away, Belhark would stand by her side and do the same without hesitation.

With those final words, Belhark disappeared using a teleportation spell, leaving Damian to stare silently at the spot where he had stood. The echo of Belhark’s parting words lingered in his ears.

“Ha… haha…”

Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, Damian let out a dry, bitter laugh. It wasn’t amusement—it was the dawning realization of a cruel truth and a mocking acknowledgment of his own arrogance.

From the start, his brother had handed the choice over to Rose—the very choice Damian had been agonizing over.

Even while drowning in his obsession with Rose, he had foolishly clung to the hope that he could somehow confine her to his arms. He now realized that hope had been nothing more than his own conceit.

Slowly, with great effort, he pushed his shredded body upright. The remnants of Belhark’s magic twisted within him, as if wringing his insides, but he couldn’t afford to lie there in misery.

It was time to think about what came next.

* * *

Before Belhark returned, I slipped into the bathtub, immersing my body completely in the warm water. A strange fear nagged at me: if he saw me in the same disheveled and stained state I had been in at the palace, he might go looking for Damian again. So instead of simply waiting, I decided to clean myself up.

I felt a stinging sensation down below, as though a small wound had formed. It wasn’t visible to the eye, and there didn’t seem to be any blood, which was a small relief. Still, I decided I’d apply some ointment once I was done.

For now, I submerged my face beneath the water, exhaling small bubbles and watching them rise aimlessly to the surface. My thoughts wandered as I wondered what to do next.

I had already explained my misunderstanding with Damian, but our conversation had been a complete disaster.

When Belhark saw the aftermath and sent me back to the mansion, I’d been too overwhelmed by the sudden change in environment to think things through.

If I simplified it, things had gone from bad to worse.

Did that mean, as Damian had implied, this was truly the end?

In this world, where the Orca brothers were the only ones I had left, the thought of Damian disappearing from my life left an inexplicable emptiness in my chest, as though a part of me had been hollowed out.

To be in this big house with only Belhark and me left…

I couldn’t even imagine it. The three of us were a unit—inseparable. That was a fact we all knew too well.

But Damian was also a stubborn person. He must know how brazen it would be to stand before me again after what had happened.

“He’s just desperate to leave behind some kind of lingering attachment,” I thought bitterly. “Damn it.”

Yet I couldn’t shake the image of Damian earlier. He’d looked so desperate, as though he were hanging onto the edge of a cliff. That bothered me, even though I was certain my words had ultimately caused him to crumble.

“Rose, may I come in?”

“Brother?”

It hadn’t been that long since I’d been sent back, but Belhark had already returned to the mansion.

That’s right—I hadn’t yet considered the possibility that he might have resolved things already.

As soon as I heard his voice, I rose from the bathtub. Water dripped from my body as I grabbed a towel to dry myself and then slipped into a bathrobe.

“You can come in now,” I called out.

The moment I finished speaking, Belhark opened the bathroom door and approached me. Without hesitation, he picked me up in his arms and carried me out of the bathroom.

He carefully laid me down on the bed, then reached to untie my bathrobe. However, I instinctively stopped him with my hand.

“Don’t get angry.”

“I’ll decide whether to be angry after I’ve seen it.”

“It’s not that bad…”

“Noted.”

When I finally let go of his hand, Belhark pulled back the bathrobe and examined the affected areas. His brows furrowed deeply as he took in the sight of my reddened skin—my inner thighs, hips, and the sensitive area between them.

Was it worse than it looked earlier?

He lightly ran his finger over the tender skin.

“Not that bad, you say…”

“Ah…!”

A faint sting radiated from the spot, but oddly, the uncomfortable heaviness I’d felt there earlier seemed to disappear. I must not have been able to fully address it when I’d tried on my own.

Reaching into the air, Belhark summoned a familiar jar of ointment. He applied a generous amount to the affected area and, perhaps combining it with a healing spell, erased the lingering soreness.

Once finished, he neatly wrapped my bathrobe back around me and secured it.

“What about Damian?” I asked, looking up at him.

He paused for a moment, meeting my gaze silently before reaching out to touch my hair. With a subtle application of magic, the damp strands quickly dried, becoming soft and fluffy to the touch.

He tugged gently at my hair in a way that wasn’t painful but clearly conveyed his dissatisfaction. He didn’t seem pleased that I was worrying about Damian. It wasn’t surprising, considering what he’d witnessed earlier wasn’t exactly a scene anyone would want to see.

“If he’s come to his senses, he’ll show up on his own,” Belhark said curtly.

“With Damian’s temperament, I doubt he’ll come home tonight,” I replied, unconvinced.

“Don’t worry. We talked things out. But more importantly, isn’t there something you need to say to me?”

The trustworthiness in his tone was debatable—something I’d only questioned once before, when he’d offered to wash me in the bathtub. However, before I could probe further into his conversation with Damian, I had a feeling I knew what he meant by “something you need to say.” I hesitated, stealing a glance at him.

“I said some harsh things too,” I admitted softly.

“That doesn’t excuse his actions,” Belhark replied firmly.

“…….”

“So don’t forgive him. Ever.”

Excuse me, Belhark? Isn’t he your brother?

Belhark’s words were so resolute, he might as well have been talking about a stranger. He was adamantly telling me to cut Damian off, as if he were nothing to him.

My expression must have betrayed my disbelief because Belhark tilted his head as if to ask, What’s the problem?

“Don’t you think that’s a bit too cold?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Whatever happens, I’ll respect your decision. But my concern is that you’re far too soft when it comes to us. When we made mistakes before, you let them slide too easily. That might have been what triggered this mess.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. I had been lenient with them. From the moment I decided to accept them as family, they’d become my brother and my younger sibling. And because our relationship had begun out of pity, I’d been especially tolerant toward them.

The issue arose when our relationship evolved into something more. The line between family and lovers became blurred, and even when it came to intimate matters, my boundaries had grown far too forgiving.

Still, I couldn’t deny that Belhark might have a point—I probably did seem overly lenient. But I couldn’t entirely blame Damian either.

Ever since he was a child, Damian had craved recognition for his existence. Whenever he achieved something—whether mastering the use of aura, becoming a swordmaster, or accomplishing other feats—he would report it to me, seeking my praise.

The reason he didn’t mention his accomplishments, like his pivotal role in slaying monstrous creatures or earning medals for thwarting an assassination attempt on the crown prince, was obvious. Damian, who cursed like a sailor and had a vicious nature, didn’t want to show me that side of himself.

Even now, the same Damian who could strike fear into others softened like a lamb in my presence for that very reason. He detested revealing his cruel tendencies to me.

The fact that today had escalated the way it had meant there had to be a trigger—something that made him lose his grip entirely. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was part of that cause.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, but I can’t completely turn my back on him,” I said with a sigh. “Both Damian and you act like if something goes slightly wrong, I’ll pack up and leave this house. Am I really that untrustworthy in your eyes?”

“That’s because, ever since you were a child, you’ve been scheming about how to leave the estate,” Belhark replied matter-of-factly.

“So what, should I get married? Would that put your mind at ease?”

“What?”

Belhark blinked at me, stunned, as if he’d completely forgotten the gravity of the situation with Damian. His dumbfounded expression made it clear he hadn’t expected that response.

I’d been considering marriage for some time, not because I particularly cared about the institution, but because it seemed like the most definitive way to reassure the Orca brothers. They had this bizarre fear that I’d up and vanish one day. Marriage seemed like the perfect solution to ground me in their reality.