Why it never ends

Chapter 234 The Duke
On the first night back in Tanyi, Hesta dreamed of her mother again.

Hesta herself didn't understand why, after the revenge plan started, she often had dreams, these dreams were often cruel and bizarre, and whenever she woke up from the dream, the trembling fright always made her covered in cold sweat.

Tonight's dream was also very messy. At first, it was almost meaningless scenes one after another. They were superimposed on each other, constantly changing and collapsing. Hesta chased forward with urgency, jumping in time and space with intuition.

Between the unreasonable grief and panic, Hesta suddenly felt a pair of gentle hands hug her from behind.In this embrace, she felt like she was losing her strength and becoming a little girl again—like the child sleeping in Alvira's arms tonight.But despite this, Hesta still tried to hold on to these hands tightly, wishing to become one with them.

Until some murmurs mixed with the shattering sound of glass bell jars sounded, she heard whistles and screams from the dark alleys in the distance, and tragic calls for help came from the high pavilion farther away, every window of the Rohan Palace They all turned into empty eye sockets without eyeballs, and jet-black blood gushed down from them——

Hesta suddenly opened his eyes.

Everything came to an abrupt end.

She turned over on the bed with difficulty and heard herself panting violently.

It was still dark outside the window, and Hesta wiped away the tears on his face indiscriminately, and looked back at the time—it was only four o'clock in the morning.

She got out of bed to drink water, unable to calm down for a long time, paced back and forth in the room a few times, Hesta put on her coat and went out.

Just as soon as she opened the door, she saw a thin figure also retreating from the room at the other end of the corridor. That person stood in the shadows, with a slightly thin body.

"Who?" Endai's inquiry came from downstairs—there are mercury needles on duty in the living room and garden at the moment, and except for a few bedrooms, the villa is always brightly lit at night.

"...It's me." Hesta and the man said at the same time.

She quickly recognized the owner of the voice.

—Villefort.

……

Ende and Trisha are on duty in the living room tonight.

"Why don't you sleep in the middle of the night?" Endai poured hot water for the two of them. Not far away, Trisha sat motionless in front of the window, staring at the silent night outside the window without distraction.

"I had a nightmare, I couldn't sleep, so I came down for a walk..." Villefort whispered, he looked up at Hesta, "Sorry, I don't quite remember your name..."

"Eureka."

"Why didn't Mademoiselle Eureka sleep, did she also have a nightmare?" Villefort asked.

"No, I just accept the bed," Hesta put down the water glass, "I can't sleep well every time I just change places."

The two stopped talking, and the living room became quiet.

Ende leaned on the sofa, looking casually at the two people in front of her.

In all fairness, Ende has a good impression of people like Villefort, especially when he and Tanglar are together, the comparison shows the Duke's calm personality, regular work and rest, and harmonious family.

She had heard from Victoria that Villefort was the only son of the old duke. Such a person had never been troubled by life since the day he was born—he had very few desires, and at the same time, he had very different desires from himself. disproportionate wealth.

Even in a livable place, only a very few people can have such a lucky life.I don't know if it's because of this, but Endai feels that this middle-aged man in his forties has a little innocence that doesn't match his age, and it's fun to get along with him.

"I also accept the bed." Ende continued Hesta's words, "Especially when I receive a long-distance mission that involves jet lag, just adjusting my schedule will toss me for several days, so I can only bear it. "

"Did you take turns to be on duty every day during this time?" Hesta asked softly.

"Well," Endai nodded, "Although the assassin's killing notice hasn't been sent yet, it's always good to get used to this kind of work rhythm in advance."

Villefort coughed, "Thank you."

Hesta looked sideways at Villefort: "The duke must have had a hard time these days, he was always awakened by nightmares like this in the middle of the night."

Villefort sighed softly, "It's okay."

"Okay?" Hesta looked away slightly, "Aren't you afraid of death?"

"Of course you are afraid...but people are very strange sometimes. If the death is not approaching, you will turn a blind eye to many things. You have to have such a knife hanging above your head to realize that you are alive. fact."

Villefort's voice was humble and gentle, just like his expression at the moment.

His eyes glanced at an old photo on the coffee table. It was a spring photo of him and Alvira many years ago. Alvira's abdomen was slightly protruding. .

Villefort was taken aback: "...how could this photo be here?"

"It fell out when Sophie was sorting out the old books this afternoon, and I just put them here," Ende laughed. "Your family has so many books!"

"It's because she likes to read. I don't read much." Villefort gently stroked his wife's young face in the photo. "She likes Ernest very much. We met at his reading club."

"Ernest?" Ende repeated the name curiously.

"Oh, a novelist from the Silver Age..."

Villefort spoke out.

Hesta changed her sitting position. She propped her face with one hand, rested her hand casually on her knees, and looked down at the lace of the carpet under her feet.

Hesta couldn't listen to a word of Villefort's words at the moment, she just glanced in Villefort's direction from time to time to see his calm and elegant expression when he talked about literature.

When Villefort's narration came to an end, Ende suddenly let out a meaningful sigh.

Villefort raised his head, "If you are interested in Ernest, you can go to the study on the second floor, we don't intend to donate the books there—"

"No, duke, I'm not sighing because of the novel story," Ende frowned, "I'm just wondering, how can someone like you be targeted by the 'assassin'—you and Rich, Schmidt , Tanglar and the others are not from the same group at all.”

Villefort laughed dryly, then shook his head, "...In the last moment of my life, being able to be with my wife and children is actually very happy."

Ende looked at him sadly: "I can see that you really love them."

Villefort fell into silence. He stared at the photo in his hand for a long time, his throat moved, "Ernest...has a short story about the fear of death, called "Indian Camp"...I read many times.

"I remember the story where the boy asked his father:
"'Dad, why did he kill himself?'

"'Dad, are there many suicides?'

"'Is it hard to die, Dad?'"

Villefort's voice trembled slightly, he tried his best to control his emotions, and forced himself to smile.

"When I didn't have children, my mind was silent when I read this paragraph. After having children... the word 'father' is crisp."

(End of this chapter)