Chapter 57 Reconcilation
Thinking that Evan was going to disappear into thin air, Ezekiel strode into the sitting room, only to find her there with Ella and Eva, the three of them chatting about something trivial. His mouth fell open in pure awe; he had been so sure she was gone.
“I thought you were leaving,” he said to her, his voice tight. Seeing that Evan said nothing at all in return, that she wouldn't even acknowledge him, he turned on his heel and started climbing the stairs to his room, each step heavy with defeat. At this point, Evan could tell exactly how bad he was feeling, a bitter irony since she was the one who had committed the murder. The weight of his silent hurt was far heavier than any accusation he could have shouted.
“Won't you apologize to him?” Ella asked, feeling a sharp pang of pity for the brooding man.
“Don't feel sorry for him,” Evan replied, her tone firm yet layered with a strange guilt. “I'll apologize to him, just not today.” With that, the two women went back to their gossip, but Evan’s heart wasn’t in it. She was busy steering the conversation, asking pointed questions about the history of the white witches, hungry for any knowledge that could define her new reality. Ella took her time, patiently explaining every bit of their legacy, her words painting pictures of power and purpose that both excited and terrified Evan.
Soon, however, Ella announced she needed to go. Not because she wanted to, but because her duties demanded she be in the church before nightfall. Evan's mood depressed darkened into a palpable shadow around her. She desperately wanted Ella to stay for the night, a solid anchor in her suddenly turbulent world. Lord Raphael had already left, and what was worse was that she had promised him she would follow him to wherever he was going tomorrow. The commitment felt like a chain.
“Did you really need to go? I'll miss you, dear,” Evan said, her eyes widening into what she hoped were convincing puppy dog eyes.
Ella just laughed, seeing right through the act. “Haha, we'll see tomorrow. You know I can't leave the church, right? Bye bye.”
“Bye, Ella,” they both bid good bye before Ella disappeared into thin air, leaving Evan alone in the sudden quiet of the mansion. Swallowing her pride, Evan decided to go and apologize to Duke Ezekiel in his room, though she was still a little hesitant. Summoning every ounce of her courage, she climbed upstairs. Though she wasn't as scared of him as before, the memory of his cold anger was still enough to send chills down her spine.
Reaching his room, she knocked softly.
“Come in,”said Ezekiel’s voice, flat and devoid of its usual command. Evan pushed the door open, coming into the room with a tentative little smile on her face. Ezekiel didn't bother sparing her a glance, his mind completely absorbed by a book held firmly in his hand.
“You must hate me now,” Evan said, walking forward to her his bed, her own words startling her.
His head snapped up. “You… you were here all this time and didn't say anything? Why? I thought Evan was dead,” he said, sighing deeply as if the confession drained him.
Evan rubbed her eyes, suddenly weary. “I never thought you cared about me. You were getting married, right? And you also wanted to kill me. Did you even know how I survived? Did you ever wonder?”
“I wasn't trying to kill you,” he countered, his voice low and intense. “I was investigating something. I knew it wasn't you who was behind the poisoning. But you escaped, so the real culprit will go free without being accused. It's of no use now.” He looked away, back to his book. “You should know I'm no longer a kid. You can't even look at my face?”
“Because you've changed,” he said, the words quiet and final. “You're not who I thought you were. You're a killer.”
Haven't you killed people? The unspoken challenge hung in the air for a moment before she gave it voice. “Who told you I kill the innocent? I kill those who try to harm the innocent. What about you?”
After those words left her lips, Ezekiel finally lifted his face, his eyes glancing at her properly for the first time. After staring at her for a long, tense while, she held his gaze, unflinching. Averting his eyes first, he looked back to the book. “I am so sorry for making you suffer. If only you didn't run away that night.”
Evan walked to where he was sitting on his bed and sat down besides him, the mattress dipping under her weight. She stared at the book he was reading, its pages filled with elaborate sigils. “Still about witches, huh?” she asked, her tone softening.
“If you were given a choice from as a kid to choose which creature you want to become, is there any chance you'd choose witches?”
Ezekiel immediately shook his head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping him. “No, there's no way I’d love being a witch. I hate it, haha.” And for a fleeting second, they both laughed, the sound a fragile bridge over the chasm between them.
“Did you have anything to to do with the disappearance of that housekeeper?” he asked, seeing Evan immediately nod in confirmation.
“You killed him?”The question was heavy with dread.
She immediately shook her head. “Of course not! I couldn't kill anything back then. Ella taught me,” she spoke as though so proud of Ella, a hint of a real smile touching her lips. “I accidentally cast his entire body into a bunny rabbit,” she confessed.
“What?” Ezekiel looked at her, his brows knitted together in utter bewilderment.
“I really don't know how I did it. Trust me, I don't. I was so scared, thinking I was a black witch.”
“Why didn't you tell me? I would've helped,” Ezekiel asked, a genuine pain in his voice as he wondered why the girl hadn't trusted him back then.
“I really didn't trust you. Thank the Lord I met Ella at that ballet dance,” she smiled, the memory warming her, and she unconsciously leaned her body on Ezekiel’s solid frame. Ezekiel blinked as if realizing something profound.
“Wait, that annoying ballet dancer was your Ella?” Seeing Evan nod, he now understood why she had such a temper on with Simon that day.
Evan, realizing she was leaning on Ezekiel, immediately pulled away, her cheeks flushing. “I'm sorry,” she muttered, embarrassed.
”It's fine,” said Ezekiel, and before she could retreat further, he pulled her into a warm, firm hug. “Please, don't go, my pet,” he subconsciously muttered into her hair.
“I thought you'd become more sensible. Who is your pet?” she asked, a genuine smile finally breaking through as she hugged him back, melting into the long-awaited comfort.
Moments passed by in that quiet embrace, and eventually, Evan fell asleep on Ezekiel's shoulder, her breathing evening out. It was then that Ezekiel sensed a dark aura outside, a cold pressure that was so noticeable it felt like a physical blow. His brows knitted together. The shift in the air was so profound that Evan, fast asleep, stirred and woke up. The aura was far too evil to go unnoticed by her own sharpened senses.
“What is that?” Evan asked as she woke, her voice thick with sleep but her eyes already alert. She could also feel it—a deep, gnawing cold that promised nothing good.
“I think we're under attack by something extremely evil,” he predicted, his voice a low, steady murmur.
“Like what?” Evan asked, her own voice dropping to a whisper.
“The dead.”
“Huh?” Evan gasped, her mind reeling. “What? Aren't you the one who said the dead actually exist?”
Ezekiel stepped out of the bed, his movements a paradox of quick, purposeful grace and slow, deliberate caution. Evan followed after him, her own fear a sharp tang in her mouth. For some kind of reason, she felt truly scared, perhaps because Ezekiel was here and his own tension was contagious. But what was outside was extremely powerful and evil, a presence that felt ancient and hungry. She wandered what it might be, her mind racing through the terrifying possibilities Ella had only hinted at.
“Evan, don't move,” Ezekiel whispered, his voice so low it was almost inaudible, yet the command in it made the hair on her neck stand up. “They’re already inside the mansion.”