I Swear I Won’t Bother You Again!

"Now if you'll excuse me."

"It was delicious, welcome."

Lower the empty cup and leave the room to clean up. Even though it was every day, my Lord had a much clearer look than usual when he said it tasted just as good every day. That said, compared to the usual slightly tired voice color, it plays only slightly, to the extent that it sounds like it.

I've hardly even seen such a slight change in the last seven years. Always attentive, full of dangers reminiscent of the balloon just before it burst. When I found out I was going to welcome the side chamber to my real wife, I was afraid that the thread I was straining would finally be cut off, that my emotions would explode.

I think Violet has got a much softer look these days than before.

That in itself is a great pleasure. Marin's beloved Lord is too unfamiliar with spoiling himself to digest them successfully, whether it's hard or sad. I don't want to see negative emotions accumulating that accumulate inside me and don't know how to dissipate, covering up joy and fun, if I can.

If such a violet has a moment to rest, even if it is a shard, there is nothing happier for Marin.

"Tomorrow's breakfast will be served at Lady Violet's liking"

Violet would be forgiven enough to work that mind to the point where it wouldn't be noticed. Though I would care if I spoke to him personally, and only to the extent that he would reluctantly be turned down, I would only add a few hands to my usual breakfast.

The menu will change the rest of the family, but now they won't even care.

(Yeah, but we need to be careful with Master Mary Jun)

Only she noticed that the menu was different just for Violet. Perhaps that observational eye should be commended, but it is only annoying for Marin.

If she wanted, that stupid father would sacrifice Violet to make it happen. Violet is not given any other option than to accept it, and Mary Jun has no idea that her own remarks have cornered her sister.

A cherished and protected, innocent princess. That must look pure and beautiful, but it's only a factor that afflicts Violet dear to Marin.

I'm sure Mary Jun believes in the family. And I only saw Mary Jun, and my parents think this is the right thing to do.

The ideal family to be painted in a picture book is found in this house of Varhan.

(really...... angry guys)

The sound of my teeth scraping echoed in my brain and my chewed lips hurt.

She worries when she sees Violet in the morning, though she's going to hurt herself like this if she thinks of the emotions that spread inside her chest.

Drain your entire body and breathe air into your lungs. I felt my strength fall off with me on my shoulder when I spit it out. The mixed emotions are organized into subdivisions in the brain, which feels as if they are in a state of flux.

Love, trust, loyalty. Anger, disgust, contempt.

Unstoppable love for Violet and bottomless discomfort with the Vahan family.

Marin hates the Varhan family.

I used to be more forthright than I am now, so much so that I wish a house like this hadn't disappeared right now. If a disaster befalls me myself, I wonder if I would also reflect on what I did to Violet... what a sweet fantasy I had. Now, to the point that it seems ridiculous to even throw up a curse anymore, this house... though I don't expect anything from the Varhan family.

For once the employer is Old, the owner, and the salary is also received from him, but for Marin, the Lord is only Violet. I can stand any humiliation if it's for her, but assuming I have to worship other than Violet as your husband, I'll bite your tongue to death on the spot.

This heart has been dedicated to Violet for seven years.

× × × ×

Marin was orphaned on her fourth birthday. As if they had so decided, their parents left themselves in the church.

I guess it was because somewhere I knew I was convinced more than surprised to keep waiting from early morning until the sun went down and realize that no one was picking me up anymore.

That my parents don't love me.

The reason was in Marin's eyes. Bright red eyes very similar to blood, especially if they are not unusual, but common shades if they are hereditary, if you look in the city, you will find many people.

The problem was that my parents didn't have red eyes.

No father, no mother, no grandfather, no grandmother, not even one of their relatives. The father of the green lineage and the mother of the blue lineage will not turn red where they mix.

It was too simple for my mother to confess to my father, who looked for a reason.

"This child is not yours."

It's my mother's son, but not my father's. Needless to say, the meaning of the word.

My mother cheated on me, and I was given Marin as a result... No, I could do it.

I still don't know who they are or who my bloody connected father is after all. I don't even want to know now, but I'm not going to be a rock person because I'm getting my hands on married people and getting pregnant.

The man who learned the truth about his wife and daughter made a troubled citation decision

I did.

"Your child is mine."

If a beloved wife had a child, she said it was just like her own. Really, because I loved you deeply and deeply, because parting is harder than betrayal.

My father forgave my mother. When we accept everything and live together because we are lovers more than anyone else.

He was a sweet husband. The way I think of my wife with great love was certainly ideal.

But as a father, I wasn't ready for one thing.

Parenting isn't so sweet that you can raise someone else's daughter just because you love your wife. If you don't love your daughter herself, it's only natural that your emotions will be interrupted. Forgiving someone via people's love was harder than my father thought.

In the end, there is evidence of a life of betrayal in front of me, my father and... and my mother, it seems, four years was the limit.

Pathetically, the Sisters worked hard for me, but it wasn't a big shock for Marin.

This is a four-year aggregation. My parents insulted me as a child, but because I am a child, I easily realize that I am not loved because I am the most sensitive toddler to the love of my parents.

Instead of throwing it away explicitly, Sister consoled me with the means of leaving it, "I'm sure we'll be picked up," but that never resonates with my heart. Because I know best that words don't come true.

Sometimes there were people who said, "There was a reason," but you wouldn't think it was because you couldn't love that reason. I loved him, but he said he left him for a reason.

People who believe in God but therefore do not doubt love laugh with cruelty because they are gentle and warm. I try to make you hope that you are loved.

I stuck my breath in that environment and left the church when I was twelve.

There's some gratitude for raising me, and although I may have attached myself, I'm sure it wasn't home. Just enough to get away from me and show my face once in a while.

Nevertheless, there is no way to live in an orphan without a proper education either. Wearing wild accommodation every day, belly-pecked every day, much dirtier clothes than when I was abandoned, heavy labor at the bottom where I also saw the occasional job on my feet.

The kindness of the Church and the breathlessness of life without a home. days of choosing critical wild accommodation with them across the balance.

The turning point came on a day when there was no philosophy whatsoever. It wasn't a birthday or a holy night, although it was a day that I'm sure everyone would forget.

On that day seven years ago, Marin's life changed.