THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Angelica found herself momentarily paralyzed as her gaze met David's striking sapphire eyes. Words that she had long rehearsed dissolved in her throat, leaving her utterly speechless. What could she possibly say to him now, after everything?

To David, she was supposed to be dead, a belief that had driven him down the path of disgrace, turning him into the outcast—the so-called "trash" of the family. The weight of that history, of all the misunderstandings and lost time, hung between them like a heavy veil.

David, sensing the tension in her lingering silence, cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ahem."

Angelica snapped out of her trance, quickly gathering her composure. With a soft, weary smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she moved to sit on the edge of the desk near his bed. She parted her lips as if to speak, to tell him how much she had missed him, how every day apart had been like a wound reopening. But the words died just as quickly as they had formed. She swallowed her emotions, choosing the safer route instead.

"I see you're awake, young master," she said, her voice calm yet distant. Continue your adventure at m|v-l'e m,p| y- r

David blinked in surprise. The formality of her address struck him like a cold slap. He wasn't the real David, but hearing her refer to him so distantly, as if they were strangers, felt wrong. Was this really how she wanted to handle things? After everything they had been through? He wasn't the old David, no, but pretending as if nothing had happened between them wouldn't work either.

"Angelica," David said, letting her name hang in the air.

His voice was soft, but there was an unspoken weight in it, a demand for acknowledgment. They couldn't just brush the past aside as if it didn't exist. The system's quest still loomed in his mind, urging him forward. If he was to fulfill the conditions and save Angelica, she had to take responsibility. They had to confront the reality that, for years, the old David had believed she was gone—dead. And that belief had shattered him.

Angelica's heart stuttered in her chest when he called her name. It was a name she hadn't heard fall from his lips in so long. She could feel the familiar sting of tears welling up in her eyes, but she fought them back, refusing to break down in front of him. She didn't deserve to cry. Not after everything she had hidden from him, not after all the suffering he had endured because of her silence.

She had been wrong to disappear, wrong to let him believe she had died. She knew that. And now, facing him again, she could feel the weight of that decision crushing her from the inside. But still, she remained steadfast, determined to face whatever judgment was coming her way. She deserved it—every harsh word, every bitter feeling.

"I…" Angelica began, her voice trembling slightly, though she masked it with a steady breath. She couldn't allow herself to crumble, not now. "I never meant for things to turn out this way."

David's eyes didn't waver. He watched her closely, his expression unreadable, though something in his gaze softened—if only for a moment. He could see the internal struggle in her, the way her fingers twitched slightly as if she wanted to reach out to him, but held back. She was bracing herself, preparing for whatever anger or hurt he might throw at her. But he felt no anger, not anymore. Just an overwhelming sense of sadness—for her, for the old David, for everything that had been lost.

David reached out, his hand resting gently atop Angelica's head. The gesture was simple, but it shocked her to the core. She froze, unsure of how to react to this unexpected display of kindness.

"I hold nothing against you," David said softly, his voice breaking the heavy silence between them. He wasn't sure if these were his own words or what the old David would've wanted her to hear, but they felt right.

Angelica's eyes widened as his words sank in. The dam she had been holding back finally broke, and tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, leaving trails of warmth behind. She tried to compose herself, but the emotion was too much. It had been years since she had allowed herself to feel anything this deeply.

David rose from the bed, moving to sit beside her on the edge. He reached out again, this time gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to fall. "You don't need to cry," he whispered, his touch soft, yet the weight of his words hung in the air.

Angelica shook her head, her voice catching in her throat. "You should... you should be angry with me, David." Her words were barely above a whisper, her eyes glistening with the last remnants of her unspoken guilt.

David, however, only shook his head. "I don't understand why you chose to stay hidden all this time," he began, his hand lingering on her cheek, his touch tender despite the serious tone in his voice. "But the old David... he never stopped loving you."

Those words hit Angelica like a tidal wave. She felt herself shatter completely, her composure breaking apart in the wake of David's revelation. The old David had never stopped loving her? The truth of it was overwhelming, piercing through every wall she had built around herself.

But before she could fully process the weight of what he had just said, David continued, his voice firm and resolute. "But it's different now."

Angelica looked up at him, confusion swirling in her tear-filled eyes. What did he mean by that? What had changed?

David stood, his presence suddenly feeling larger, more distant. His gaze held hers for a moment, unflinching, and when he spoke, his words cut deeper than anything she had imagined. "I'm not the David you knew. To me... you're just a stranger."

The impact of his words hit her like a physical blow. Angelica's knees gave way beneath her, and she sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands. Her world, already fragile, seemed to crumble around her. What was left for her now, if even David—her David—had moved on?

She struggled to breathe through the sobs that wracked her body, her voice barely holding steady. "Be... before you go," she managed between trembling breaths, "may I at least explain?"

Her plea was small, fragile, and she braced herself for rejection, fearing that he wouldn't want to hear her out. But to her surprise, David's response wasn't cold or dismissive.

"Sure," he said simply, his voice calm, but not without emotion. "We can talk."

Angelica blinked, her tear-streaked face lifting slightly as hope flickered in her chest. She hadn't expected him to agree, to even give her the chance to explain herself. But there he was, pulling a chair closer to her desk and sitting down, waiting for her to speak.

It wasn't much, but it was a chance. And for Angelica, that was enough to hold onto.

Angelica's breath trembled as she finally spoke, her voice heavy with the weight of secrets she had kept for too long. "After I was taken…" she began, her words slow, deliberate, as if each one was a struggle to push out. "Elder La Muerte saved me before… before anything could be done to me."

David blinked, her confession catching him off guard. Why was she mentioning Elder La Muerte of the De Gor Le Rosa house? The name tugged at the edges of his memory. He knew of the Elder, the shadowy figure behind the house that David had spent his time trying to avoid. The mere thought of joining the house, especially as an executioner, had been something David had been determined to reject. And yet, fate had played a cruel trick on him, bringing the house back into his life in a way he never expected.

"Give me a second," David muttered, his mind racing to process her words. He needed time to think, to piece it all together. From what he remembered in the novel, there had been a civil war, a rebellion against Earl Hilton's reforms. The nobles had turned against the Earl, rejecting the changes he had tried to implement, leading to riots, looting, and chaos. Though Lord Hilton had swiftly crushed the rebellion with his strength, the damage had been irreparable.

But none of this explained why Elder La Muerte, a high-ranking noble, would save a commoner like Angelica. David frowned, his thoughts swirling with confusion. The old David had rushed out of the castle to rescue her during the violence, but somewhere along the way, they had been separated. That much he understood. But where did the Elder fit into all of this?

His gaze flicked back to Angelica. "So, are you telling me you're an executioner?" David asked, the pieces of the puzzle starting to come together. That would explain her skills in combat, the way she seemed to hold back as if she was trained in something far more dangerous.

Angelica's eyes met his, and for a moment, she hesitated. But then, with a small, almost resigned nod, she confirmed his suspicions. "Yes. And the right hand of my lady," she confessed. "But I never wanted this life, David. I didn't choose it."

David's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it all. "I don't understand," he admitted. There were too many gaps, too many things that didn't add up. "Why would you stay away from me all this time? Why hide?"

Angelica took a deep breath, the sound heavy in the air between them. "I made an agreement," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, each word soaked in regret. "I agreed to stay away from you."

"By who?" David pressed, though he already had an inkling of the answer. It had to be the Elder. The way everything tied back to the De Gor Le Rosa house, to that elusive figure, made it painfully obvious.

Angelica's gaze dropped to the floor, her fists clenched in her lap as if steeling herself for the truth she was about to reveal. "The Elder… Lady La Muerte," she finally admitted, her voice breaking as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

David sat there in stunned silence. Lady La Muerte, the enigmatic force behind so much chaos, had been the one to pull Angelica's strings all along. The truth felt like a weight in his chest, pressing down with the knowledge that the woman standing before him had been trapped in a web of power and manipulation.

And yet, despite it all, she had stayed strong.