On the first night after returning to Tan Yi, 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. Whenever she woke up from her dreams, the shuddering panic always made her break into a 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. Hestad chased forward with urgency, jumping in time and space with intuition.
Between unreasonable grief and panic, Hesta suddenly felt a pair of gentle hands hugging her from behind. In this embrace, she felt like she was losing her strength and turning into a little girl again - just like the child sleeping in Alvira's arms tonight. But despite this, Hesta still tried to grasp these hands tightly, wishing that he could become one with them.
Until some murmurs were mixed with the sound of the glass bell shattering, she heard whistles and screams coming from the dark alley in the distance, and the tragic calls for help came from the higher pavilions further away, and from every window of the Rohan Palace. They all turned into empty eye sockets without eyeballs, and dark blood surged down from them——
Hesta opened her eyes suddenly.
Everything came to an abrupt end.
She turned over on the bed with difficulty and heard herself breathing heavily.
It was still dark outside the window. Hesta wiped the tears on her face carelessly and looked back at the time - it was just four o'clock in the morning.
She got out of bed and drank water. She couldn't calm down for a long time. She paced back and forth in the room a few times. Hestad put on her coat and went out.
As soon as she opened the door, she saw a thin figure retreating from the room at the other end of the corridor. The man stood in the shadows, with a slightly thin figure.
"Who?" Endai's inquiry came from downstairs - there were mercury needles on duty in the living room and garden at this moment. Except for a few bedrooms, this villa was 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.
——It was Villefort.
…
Tonight, Endai and Teresa are on duty in the living room.
"Why are you both up late at night?" Endai poured hot water for the two of them. Not far away, Teresa sat motionless in front of the window, staring intently at the silent night outside the window.
"I had a nightmare and couldn't sleep, so I came down for a walk..." Villefort whispered, looking up at Hesta, "Sorry, I don't quite remember your name..."
"Eureka."
"Why didn't Mademoiselle Eureka sleep? Did she also have nightmares?" Villefort asked.
"No, I just love the bed," Hesta put down the water glass, "I can't sleep well every time I change places."
The two stopped talking and the living room became quiet.
Endai leaned on the sofa and looked at the two people in front of her casually.
To be fair, Ende had a good impression of people like Villefort, especially when he was with Danglars. The contrast showed the Duke's calm personality, regular work and rest, and family harmony.
She had heard Victoria introduce that Villefort was the only son of the old Duke. Such a person had never been worried about life since the day he was born - he had very few desires, and at the same time, he had very different desires. Disproportionate wealth.
Even in a livable place, only a handful of people can have such a lucky life. She didn't know if it was because of this, but Endai felt that this middle-aged man in his forties had a bit of innocence that was inconsistent with his age, and it was quite fun to get along with him.
"I also love the bed." Endai continued Hesta's words, "Especially when I receive a long-distance mission that involves jet lag, just adjusting my schedule will take me several days, so I can only bear it hard. "
"Are you taking turns on duty like this every day during this period?" Hesta asked softly.
"Well," Endai nodded, "Although the assassin's murder notice has not yet been sent, it is 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 been having a hard time during this period. He is always woken up by nightmares in the middle of the night."
Villefort sighed softly, "It's not bad."
"Are you okay?" Hesta looked away slightly, "Aren't you afraid of death?"
"Of course you are afraid...but sometimes people are very strange. If death is not approaching, you will turn a blind eye to many things. You have to have such a knife hanging over your head to realize that you are alive. fact."
Villefort's voice was humble and gentle, just like his expression at this moment.
His eyes glanced at an old photo placed on the coffee table. It was a spring photo of him and Alvira many years ago. Alvira's belly was slightly swollen, and the two stood in front of a swing, leaning on each other, staring at the camera. .
Villefort was stunned: "...Why is this photo here?"
"Sophie fell out when she was sorting out old books in the afternoon, so I conveniently put them here," Endai laughed, "You have so many books at home!"
"She likes to read, and I read less." Villefort gently touched his wife's young face in the photo, "She likes Ernest very much, and we met at his reading party."
"Ernest?" Endai repeated the name curiously.
"Oh, it's a family member from the Silver Age..."
Villefort spoke eloquently.
Hesta changed her sitting position. She supported her face with one hand and put the other hand casually on her knees. She lowered her eyes and looked at the lace of the carpet under her feet.
Hestad couldn't listen to a word of what Villefort said 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 story came to an end, Ende suddenly let out a meaningful sigh.
Villefort raised his head and said, "If you are interested in Ernest, you can go to the study room on the second floor and have a look. We do not intend to donate the books there -"
"No, Duke, I'm not lamenting about the story," Endai frowned, "I'm just wondering, how could someone like you be targeted by an 'assassin' - you, Rich, Schmidt, Tangglar and the others are not from the same group at all.”
Villefort laughed dryly, and then shook his head, "... In the last moment of my life, I am actually very happy to be with my wife and children."
Endai 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... there is a short story about the extraordinary fear of death called "The Indian Camp"... I have read it. Many times.
"I remember in the story, the child asked his father:
"'Dad, why did he kill himself?'
"'Dad, do a lot of people commit suicide?'
"'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 I have children... the word 'dad' is crisp and clear."
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