Chapter 4

Keisha's face turned purple. She nodded sharply. "Fine. Burn all of it right here. I don't want Gregory to have to look at any of it."

I didn't respond. I stepped past them and kept walking.

But Thomas blocked my way. "Father, if you keep fighting with Mother, I'll burn all my books and enlist in the military tomorrow."

He had used these threats on me more than once.

In the past, I would have gently explained that surviving in the army requires more than brute strength—it takes strategy, intelligence, and careful planning. I would have broken it all down for him and guided him.

Now, I was just tired. Even speaking a single word to him felt exhausting.

"Do whatever you want."

The moment I stepped into the back courtyard, the old wooden door locked behind me.

"The Princess says you are to stay here and reflect on your mistakes. You are not allowed out."

I didn't answer.

Within ten days, the meals became fewer and fewer. Sometimes no one came at all.

She was waiting for me to beg.

But I didn't care. The pain in my chest had already stolen my appetite.

Today, someone finally came. It was Thomas. He brought me a bowl of rice porridge.

"Mother is making Uncle Gregory an official consort tomorrow. Are you happy now? Don't you understand? She's only doing this to get a reaction out of you. Just give in a little. What's so hard about that?"

"Get out," I said coldly.

"You're impossible! How did I end up with a father like you?"

The day after the ceremony, I heard that Gregory had fallen ill. A demon, people said. A restless spirit.

The priest traced the source of the haunting to the very spot where my second child was buried.

My heart stopped.

I ignored the guards blocking me. I ran to the east courtyard, to the big tree.

My daughter had been only six months old when she died. So small. She never even had a name.

And her own mother was prosecuting her remains.

By the time I got there, the tiny bones had already been dug up.

The pain cut deeper than my cancer.

"Keisha! KEISHA! Have you lost your mind?! That was your own flesh and blood!"

I screamed like an animal. I tried to lunge forward. Guards held me back.

Keisha didn't even look at me. She stood by the brazier, playing with a fire striker between her fingers.

"Sebastian. Are you ready to admit you were wrong?"

"She was your daughter! You're using her to blackmail me—what kind of monster does that make you?"

Thomas let out a cold laugh. He looked just like her. Same cold blood. Same cruel heart.

"My sister is already gone. Now, she's come back as a vengeful ghost to hurt people. Just because she's family, we're supposed to let her?"

I laughed. Tears poured down my face.

To force me to submit, they were branding their own flesh and blood a demon. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Gregory, who had been silent until now, let out a fake sigh. "Thomas is right. We can't let the dead hold the living hostage. Surely you understand that, Sebastian."

"Shut your mouth. I should have killed you. I should have killed you the first chance I got."

Gregory flinched at the hatred in my eyes. He scurried behind Keisha.

Keisha turned her head and finally looked at me. Her voice was low, hoarse—but steady. Confident.

"Sebastian. Admit you were wrong. Give in. Stop being so stubborn. Do that, and I'll leave your daughter alone."

I laughed so hard I choked on blood. My mouth filled with the taste of iron.

"Keisha," I said. "I regret not killing you too."

Something in her eyes—the last bit of warmth—burned away.

"Do it," she ordered.

"NO—!"

The tiny bones were tossed into the brazier. They caught fire.

I broke free from the servants holding me. I lunged for the flames.

Keisha grabbed me from behind. Wrapped her arms around me and held me tight.

Her voice slithered into my ear like a demon crawling out of hell.

"You want to destroy yourself and us, Sebastian? Fine. I'll play."

"Get OFF me!"

I reached blindly. My hand found the dagger she kept on her belt. I drove it toward her throat.

I missed. It caught her collarbone instead.

But it was enough.

She gasped. She let go.

I reached into the fire—bare hands—and pulled out what was left of my daughter. I couldn't feel the heat. I just clutched the bones to my chest.

Then I heard it. The system's voice in my head.

[Host, spatial reinforcement is complete. Your wish will now be granted.]

I smiled. I looked down at the bones in my arms.

"Daddy is taking you home," I whispered. "Daddy is taking you home."

I took two steps.

Then my throat filled with blood. It poured out of my mouth like a fountain.

The string inside my chest—the one that had been pulled so tight for so long—finally snapped.

My vision tilted, and I slowly collapsed to the ground.

Behind me, I heard one last scream.