To My Eternal Love : Saving the Tragic Second Male Lead

~ Ophilia ~

The mansion felt different.

The warmth and noise that her mother’s presence once filled every corner with, was gone.

Too quiet.

Too cold.

Her room that had always been so bright had slowly turned dark. Even the sunlight streaming through the window couldn’t reach the parts of Ophilia’s heart that had broken and crumbled. Her eyes looked empty. Exhausted. Like everything inside her had slowly worn away.

Ophilia sat at the edge of her bed. As usual. Not moving. Her hands rested on her lap... but her fingers wouldn’t stop trembling. Every time her eyes moved , she saw it again. That horrible night. Playing over and over.

She closed them tightly.

She didn’t cry.

Not anymore.

Her eyes slowly shifted toward the door.

Still closed.

He didn’t come.

Her chest tightened.

...just like before.

For a child of only five years old, carrying something like this was too much. As if the world had forced her to accept everything all at once. Every hope, every joy, swept away like dust in the wind.

Now she was nine.

Without her parents to lean on. Without anyone she had considered family. She stood on her own two feet. Alone.

Every maid assigned to care for her eventually gave up. Not because she was cruel or naughty, but because they thought she had gone mad.

She would suddenly scream

"AGHHHHHH!! Behind you!!"

Sob sob sob~

She would cry. Point at empty air. Talk to things nobody else could see.

But what they didn’t know, she did it on purpose. So they would keep their distance. So no one else would get hurt. Not after what she had witnessed that night.

Because every time darkness fell,

Those images came back. One by one. Her mother’s voice begging for forgiveness. Her nanny’s terrified whispers telling her not to say a word. The fear never left. And so the world decided she had lost her mind.

But even though she had stopped expecting people to stay , that was only her pride talking.

Deep down. She still wanted someone to reach for her.

__________________________

~ Madam Irene ~

Madam Irene watched the situation with a quiet heaviness in her chest.

Because so many had given up on being Ophilia’s caretaker, Madam Irene volunteered herself.

"Your Grace, I would like to volunteer to serve as her personal maid," she said, her expression as serious as always.

Duke Herold studied her for a long moment.

"Why? Isn’t being head maid enough for you?" he asked, his sharp green eyes demanding an explanation. The coldness in those eyes made Madam Irene’s whole body go still.

But she had made a promise to the Duchess. To watch over Ophilia until she grew up. Because Duchess Seraphine was the person Madam Irene respected most in the world, the one who had given her a chance when she first entered this household as a personal maid.

__________________________

Three days before Duchess Seraphine took her last breath...

"Irene, can you make me a promise?"

Duchess Seraphine’s voice was barely a whisper. Madam Irene nodded, eyes fixed on the Duchess’s face, pale and fragile, struggling against her illness.

"Please take care of my child. Ophla," she said, tears falling quietly down her face.

"She’s still so young. She needs someone by her side." Her eyes closed slowly as she spoke. Tears slipped down one by one.

Madam Irene’s expression didn’t change. Still serious. Still steady.

"Very well. If that is what Your Grace asks," she said, bowing her head in respect.

Duchess Seraphine smiled.

"You’ve been by my side in this household for so many years now , and not once have you ever let your guard down..." she said with a small quiet laugh.

Irene said nothing.

"But no matter how much you hide behind that serious face ,there is one expression I have always been able to read," the Duchess continued.

"I used to think perhaps you felt nothing. But when your younger sibling was buried, the one you always said you hated, you showed an expression I had never seen from you before."

Madam Irene lifted her head slowly.

"Your face was so sad... Even though your tears never fell, your eyes said everything," the Duchess said, smiling gently.

"Like right now."

She looked at Irene’s eyes and smiled with warmth.

Madam Irene lowered her head quietly.

"Duchess. Thank you," she said simply. She didn’t cry. She only gave Duchess Seraphine a sincere, genuine smile.

"That child of mine ,even though her face always looks unbothered , she actually notices everything very quickly," the Duchess said, her gaze drifting toward the curtained window.

"Your Grace ,would you not like to see her?" Madam Irene asked, quiet but firm.

The Duchess went still. She stared at the ceiling.

"I don’t want her to see me at my lowest," she said, exhaling slowly.

"She might blame herself for my death," she added, her eyes going empty as she looked toward the door.

Madam Irene nodded slowly.

And just like that time moved on. But that memory never left her.

"Your Grace , even as head maid, Ophilia is my priority," Madam Irene said, bowing slightly.

Duke Herold, who had been watching her sharply, gave a single nod.

"Very well. You have my permission," he said, sinking back into his chair.

Madam Irene excused herself and walked toward Ophilia’s room. She couldn’t believe how much darker the corridor leading to Ophla’s room had become.

She opened the door.

Click.

The door swung open slowly. A small figure sat on the bed, both arms wrapped tightly around her own knees. The room was dark and cold.

Madam Irene stepped forward. Each footstep careful and quiet.

Pak pak pak.

"My lady?" she said softly, sitting at the edge of the bed.

Ophilia didn’t respond. Her eyes stayed empty, fixed on the curtain swaying in the breeze.

Madam Irene frowned.

Who opened that window?

She stood and walked toward it ,but before she could close it, someone screamed.

"Nooo... don’t close the window!!" Ophilia scrambled up ,but her weak legs gave out beneath her and she fell to the cold floor.

"Arg"

Madam Irene immediately rushed over and lifted her back onto the bed, gently blowing on the small scrape on her knee.

Ophilia went quiet. She looked at Madam Irene in front of her, then back at the window.

"I always see Mother standing there," she said, pointing toward the window Madam Irene had been about to close.

Madam Irene stopped treating her knee. She looked up at Ophilia’s face.

Dull. Exhausted.

"Perhaps my lady hasn’t been sleeping enough, that’s why you’re seeing strange things," she said, standing.

Ophilia went still.

"No! I see her, standing there, looking outside!" Her voice rose.

"No, my lady. That’s what happens when you don’t sleep properly," Madam Irene said firmly.

"No, no!! I see her with my own eyes, every night she stands there, looking outside and smiling at me!!" Ophilia cried out.

Madam Irene said nothing. She walked to the window and closed it.

"NOOOO!! You’re mean, you’re mean!!" Ophilia sobbed, the same words repeating over and over between her tears.

Ophilia cried, hitting Madam Irene repeatedly, the same words coming out over and over.

But Madam Irene said nothing.

She just stayed. And listened. To every word. Every scream. Every insult thrown at her.

She didn’t answer. Not once.

The next morning.

The day after.

And the day after that. For months.

The same thing every time.

Ophilia would hit her. Throw away whatever food she brought. Push everything away.

Until one day, Madam Irene slapped her.

And spoke.

"Ophilia!! You cannot change anything... She is gone. We cannot bring people back." her voice rang out sharp and clear.

"My lady , listen to me," Madam Irene said, sitting beside her.

But Ophilia kept insisting. She had seen her mother. She knew what she saw.

Madam Irene pulled her gently into her arms. And let her cry.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Then ...

"You know what , I used to be just like you," Madam Irene said quietly.

Ophilia went completely still.

She pulled back from the hug slowly.

"You too?" she whispered.

Madam Irene nodded. And began to tell her about her own mother. Her younger sibling she used to say she hated. How she never understood what they were really going through until it was too late.

"I regret it," she said quietly.

Ophilia stared at her, blinking slowly, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

"Everyone goes through something like this," Madam Irene said, gently combing through Ophilia’s tangled hair. Ophilia sat quiet, seeming to think.

"We just have to be strong enough to keep moving forward," she said, squeezing Ophilia’s hand firmly.

Ophilia only lowered her head. Silent. Not answering.

"Until when?" she asked weakly.

"For as long as we can," Madam Irene said.

She looked at Ophilia sitting stiff and still.

"It might hurt at first. But slowly, I’m certain you’ll be okay," she said, standing.

"If Your Grace ever needs advice or encouragement, I am always here," she said, bowing.

"Then, I’ll take my leave."

Madam Irene bowed and walked out.

Ophilia lifted her face and stared at the closed door. Her eyes were empty, scanning the room around her. She leaned back against the headboard.

"Is the world always like this?" she whispered, staring blankly at the window that had just been closed.

She exhaled.

Closed her eyes.

It had been a long time since she had felt anything like this.

_________________________

The next morning, Madam Irene came in carrying food and a book.

Ophilia didn’t scream like usual. She just sat there and watched her come in.

Patiently, Madam Irene pulled up a chair and sat beside her. She tried to feed her already prepared for resistance.

But to her surprise, Ophilia ate. Quietly. Calmly.

Without realising it, a smile spread across Madam Irene’s face for the first time in a long time.

I’m glad.

Day by day. Month by month. Ophilia slowly began to open herself to the world again. Starting with the people closest to her. Then the maids around her. Slowly, one by one.

But not to her father. Duke Herold.

Never to him.

______________________________

Then one day, Ophilia looked up while drawing something and asked

"Do I have a curse?"

Madam Irene startled. She opened her mouth. Then exhaled slowly.

"I can’t tell you right now... perhaps when you’re older," she said, gently stroking Ophilia’s head.

Ophla nodded.

"But it might be something very heavy for you to carry when you find out," Madam Irene said, her gaze drifting toward the overgrown garden outside.

"Why?" Ophilia asked simply.

"Because... it was a decision your father and mother made together," Madam Irene said softly, looking at her with gentle eyes.

"You have to promise me something that you won’t blame yourself."

She held out her little finger.

"PROMISE!!"

Ophilia said, smiling wide.

"Because no matter what, your mother was grateful you existed in her world," Madam Irene said, stroking her head softly.

Ophilia smiled.

____________________________

One year passed. Ophla turned ten.

She and Madam Irene were out in the city and Ophla couldn’t stop staring at everything. The beautiful streets. The laughter everywhere. The noise and life of a world she had forgotten existed.

They stopped.

"Your Grace, we need to wait a moment," Madam Irene said, glancing out the carriage window.

Ophilia nodded and looked back outside. But then, something caught her eye.

A girl. Running. Clutching food in her hands. Being chased by an old woman. Her face was terrified. Her clothes were filthy. Her long hair was loose and tangled, flying behind her as she ran looking for somewhere to hide.

"What’s happening over there?" Ophilia asked, pointing at the girl now bowing and begging on the ground.

"Your Grace, do you want to go over there?" Madam Irene started to ask, but before she could even finish, Ophilia was already out of the carriage and walking toward the scene.

"My lady !!" Madam Irene called after her.

A crowd had already gathered. The girl ragged and dirty, was bowing deeply to the old woman.

"I didn’t do anything. The bun I took, I already gave money for it to that boy," she said, pointing at a boy standing nearby grinning from ear to ear.

The old woman looked at her with cold eyes. And slapped her.

PAP!

"You little rat!! How dare you lie!!" she snarled, slapping her across the right cheek again, eyes darting sideways toward her son.

Ophla watched them sharply.

Before she could move, Madam Irene stepped forward.

"What is happening here?" she said firmly.

The old woman looked her up and down.

Fairly wealthy.

She smiled and pulled the girl forward.

"This child stole one of my expensive buns... so I was teaching her a lesson," she said, eyes still fixed on the girl.

"Would 30 be enough?" Madam Irene said flatly.

The old woman’s eyes went wide at the sight of the coins.

"Oh yes, yes, that’s more than enough!!" she said, laughing awkwardly as she took the money. The girl watched her with sharp silent eyes.

"Alright, you’re free to go now," the old woman said, bowing repeatedly toward Madam Irene as she backed away.

Ophla suspected immediately. They were all in it together

________________________

When they returned to the carriage, Ophilia spoke.

"They were working together," she said quietly, watching the old woman disappear into the crowd.

The girl was still standing there. Alone. Staring at the ground. Eyes empty. Like something inside her had long stopped living.

"I know," Madam Irene said calmly.

"Then why give them the money?" Ophilia asked, turning toward her.

"Because I knew they would do something worse if it dragged on," Madam Irene said gently.

Ophilia went quiet. Her chest ached watching that girl.

Silence.

"Who is she?" Ophilia asked, still looking back at where the girl had been standing.

"From the looks of it, an orphan," Madam Irene said, watching Ophilia carefully.

Ophilia said nothing. But inside, she was memorising that face. Every detail. Storing it away.

_________________________

The moment they arrived back at the Aethelgard estate, Ophilia jumped down from the carriage and walked fast. Not toward her own room.

Toward Duke Herold’s study.

Inside her chest, fear. Her legs felt weak and unsteady. But in her heart, that girl looked just like her. The same loneliness. And something in that girl’s eyes had pulled at something deep inside her.

PAKK!!

The door swung open hard.

Duke Herold was inside, sitting at his desk. Beside him, the familiar face of the estate’s butler. Maids delivering tea. Everyone looked up in shock at her entrance. Her father’s eyes fixed on her sharply.

Her heart was hammering. Her legs trembling. But she stood straight. Steady. Because what was inside her heart was stronger than the fear.

Madam Irene arrived at the doorway moments later, out of breath, watching anxiously.

"I would like to find a girl my age to be my companion," Ophilia said clearly and firmly. Her eyes were bright.

Everyone looked at each other.

Duke Herold smiled.

"Hmm. Appearance suggestions?" he asked, leaning his chin on his clasped hands.

"Black hair. Brown eyes," Ophilia said without hesitation.

Madam Irene turned her head quickly.

Could it be... that girl from the market?

"Accepted," Duke Herold said, turning to the butler and giving the instruction. He gestured for Ophilia to be escorted out and handed the task over.

Ophilia looked down at both her hands. And smiled, wide and bright.

It was the first real decision she had ever made for herself.

"I’m waiting for you, unnamed girl."

______________________

Not long after, the girl was found.

And her name was known.

Olivia~

And after that ..

Ophilia’s world felt alive again.