44: 44 One More Chance

44 One More Chance

Delia's pov 0

The moment the blood ran down Catherine's cheek, I held my trembling hand down. It was not out of fear, but because I found that my heart was so excited by the bright red color that my fingers began to tremble.

It's the second time I've held a weapon to fight. The day Nick died, Kral grabbed my hand and killed Nike. It was the first time I used a weapon against an enemy, and the first time I killed my enemy.

The memory of that day is bright red, with a fishy smell. I remember the feel of the dagger in the flesh, like cutting a soft cake. I watched Nick's body grow cold and become a pile of garbage on the floor.

I got my first taste of revenge. It's a little scary, but... ... so irresistible.

Now, I look at the arrow stuck in the wall. My eyes went blank for a moment. I admit I wanted to kill Catherine when she shot that arrow at me.

The thought made my face pale.

"Wow!" A figure shouted exaggeratedly from the garden entrance, breaking the stifling air. "My dear sister, I never thought you would be hurt by such a weak werewolf!"

The man came in a dark blue robe. He has a pretty face. His hair was longer than the average man's and was tied back with a blue ribbon, which gave him some feminine charm.

He had a glass in his hand, and his black eyes were half-closed, as if he had been drinking too much.

"Lancaster! How did you get back so soon? Are you drunk again?" The housekeeper, who had been standing by me, went to him at once.

But the man, Lancaster, pushed aside the housekeeper who was trying to help him and shouted, "Don't touch me! I hate the smell of Omega."

The housekeeper was pushed to the ground by him, but he didn't care.

With a low cry of surprise, Vivian went to help the housekeeper up. I frowned as the Lanchester approached us. He had a smile on his face now, as if nothing had happened.

“Alas,” he said, stepping and sighing, “My proud sister, how you feel about being rejected by Kral? You're bleeding? That's not the Catherine I know.”

He reached for Catherine's bleeding wound and acted like a brother who cared for his sister. But his words were so strange that I felt disgusted when I heard him.

"Pow!" Catherine slapped Lancaster just before his hand touched her face. She was so strong that Lancaster's head was tilted to one side. A palm print appeared on his face, his headband was ripped off, and his long hair fell over his shoulders.

My eyes widened in surprise. Catherine angrily took Lancaster's hand and pulled him close until their faces were very close.

I don't know what they're talking about, but Vivian has witch magic. She whispered it to me through the bell.

'Lancaster, I said, don't be such a hypocrite. Don't touch me. I thought I told you this when I was 12.'

Catherine was tall, and her tight clothes clung to the curves of her body, making her look as tall as Lancaster. She smiled as she stared at Lancaster who had been beaten up. Her icy aura melted away as she opened her beautiful red lips. “I'll definitely kill you, Lancaster. You'd better hide from me.”

‘Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! I know, of course, I know! But, Catherine, it's a pity our foster father chose me.’

Lancaster's squinting eyes finally opened. He laughed loudly, his dark eyes full of malice toward his sister, and though he looked helpless under Catherine, his face was full of undisguised arrogance.

Lancaster jerked his hand away from Catherine's grasp. With his other hand, he yanked the arrow from the wall and licked the blood on the arrow with his tongue.

‘I am waiting for you to kill me, my dear sister.’

"It's so scary. I don't understand them. They all look like they're going to eat each other." Vivian's small voice reached my ear, and I silently nodded in agreement.

The housekeeper, who was helped by Vivian, was too meek to intervene. I had to sit in the garden and drink the tea the housekeeper gave me.

"Enough!" Catherine said, looking like a volcano about to erupt. She glanced at me, drinking tea in the garden, and, ignoring Lancaster, turned towards me.

"Delia, Have you seen enough?" Her eyes and eyebrows twitched.

I looked at the dried blood on her face and said, “Thank you for the invitation. I think this is a memorable day for me.”

"That's good," she gave me a serious look, then suddenly smiled. "You're more interesting than I thought. I look forward to our next meeting."

Her smile was so charming that I was stunned for a moment. But soon she became expressionless. She glanced at the housekeeper and said coldly, "Our guest is going home."

On the way back, Vivian held her chin and blinked her green eyes as she murmured, "I think I smell something special. It's so familiar, but why can't I remember it?"

"What's that smell?" I asked her.

"It's a smell that I can't remember, but it's important," Vivian said, ruffling her blonde hair in annoyance.

I comforted her. “It's okay. You can take your time.”

Catherine's POV

"My lady, your father wants to see you," the housekeeper told me, and my eyebrows twitched. I have guessed what my father wants to say to me.

Forget it. It will come sooner or later.

"I see." I looked at the face in the mirror. I had already applied medicine to my wound and then carefully applied the foundation. I looked almost the same as usual.

I walked out of my bedroom and into the castle that I call home.

Roses can be seen everywhere in the castle. The afternoon sun shone over the castle. The smell of roses filled the corners, and the castle was like paradise.

But there are always exceptions. I've known since I was a little girl that there was a special place in the castle. There is not a flower there, only a piece of green trees and grass. The rich green is like a barrier of isolation. It stubbornly refused the rose, protecting a small arch bridge in the center, a stream winding under the bridge.

It was out of place in the castle, but it was my father's favorite place. I once asked my mother why there was such a strange place in the castle, but she used her tears to teach me to keep silent.

There are many strange things in this world, such as I am not my father's child, and my father and my mother are not husband and wife. I called my father father, but I knew from an early age that he did not love my mother. I was only his adopted daughter.

My father, elder William, had no children. But he adopted two children, Lancaster and me.

Later, my mother taught me an even more important lesson with her life.

I shook my head, tried to concentrate, and came to my father.

“Father.” I walked across the corridor, up the little arched bridge, and behind him.

"Do you know the outcome of today's Round Table?" He folded his hands behind his back, his white robe lifted by the breeze, his tone emotionless.

"I don't know, please tell me." I looked down at the stream, my father's face reflected in the water.

"Pa!" A strong force hit my face. I could hardly stand, and my body shook uncontrollably. I touched the right side of my slapped face, and I knew that my wound from Delia had been torn. My palm felt the wet touch.

Blood is coming down, I think.

"You disappoint me, Catherine," my father said as he turned and took out a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his hands and looked down at me with a heavy gaze.

“I got you lots of chances to spend time with Kral. You've been playing together since you were little. Why Can't you get him to like you after all this time?”

My father's fury had not been seen for years. He couldn't resist showing his true colors again today. I didn't look up. I could see the anger in his always nice face.

"I'm sorry, father." I stood silently, admitting my incompetence. The wind blew my red hair, my hair was like a trembling flame.

He raised my chin, his golden eyes full of rage, and said, “I'm going to give you one more chance, Catherine, this is the last time, and you know what you have to do.”

His words brushed my ears and I nodded under his gaze.

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