Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 604: I’d Be Honoured To Have A Daughter Like You
Right now, both Joy and Carmela were silently wondering the same thing.
How long are we supposed to hold this?
Should I let go first?
But even as they thought about it, either moved.
Joy’s expression was composed but her mind was spinning.
She didn’t want to break the moment abruptly, yet she also had no idea how to gracefully end it.
Carmela, on the other hand, was stiff as a board, her arms awkwardly looped around Joy’s back as if she was holding a fragile glass statue.
The silence stretched.
Then, mercifully, a faint sound came from behind a nearby tree—the sound of someone trying, and failing, to stifle a sniffle.
Both women immediately froze and turned their heads.
The faint noise continued—a choked sob, quickly followed by what sounded like someone hurriedly wiping their nose.
They exchanged a look.
Joy let go of Carmela and got up immediately, her composure returning as she raised her voice.
"Who’s there?" She called out sharply. "Come out."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, rustling—and from behind the thick trunk, three familiar figures emerged.
Maria, Aqua, and Isabelle.
And to both Joy and Carmela’s surprise, Maria and Aqua were crying.
Not just teary-eyed—full, red-faced, teary sobbing.
Maria’s eyes were puffy, her nose red, and she was clutching a handkerchief like it was her last lifeline.
Aqua, meanwhile, was sniffling uncontrollably, trying her best to wipe away her tears with the sleeve of her robe.
Isabelle, though composed, looked unusually soft-eyed, clearly emotional but managing to hold it together.
Joy blinked, bewildered.
"...Mother? What in the—"
But before she could even finish her sentence, Maria lunged.
"Wait—!" was all Joy managed before Maria practically tackled Carmela, wrapping her arms tightly around the vampire and hugging her as if she were her long-lost child.
Carmela’s eyes went wide in pure shock, her face flaring red as she stammered.
"W-What? What are you—?! I—Why—wait—"
But Maria didn’t let her finish a single word. She hugged her even tighter, her voice trembling with raw emotion as she cried.
"You poor baby...You poor, poor baby! To think you lived such a cruel, miserable life!"
Carmela’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
She just blinked rapidly, completely overwhelmed as Maria continued, tears streaming down her face.
"How could the heavens do this to you?!" Maria cried. "How could they allow something so tragic, so heartless, so merciless to happen to such a gentle soul?!"
Carmela stammered weakly. "I–I’m not exactly gentle and I’m totally fine. You don’t need too—"
But Maria didn’t let her finish, hugging her again—this time even tighter.
"No, no, don’t you dare say you’re fine!" She wailed. "You’re not fine! You’ve been hurting inside for so long—hiding it behind that calm, cold face of yours, pretending you’re strong when you’re still bleeding inside!"
"How could you possibly say that you’re alright when you’ve been through so much tragedy?!"
Joy could only stare, speechless, as Maria kept pouring out her heart.
Meanwhile, Aqua approached Joy, her own eyes still wet as she sniffled softly.
She wiped her nose and said between small gasps.
"We—we came here to check on you two...and we saw you talking so seriously, so we thought we’d sneak closer. I even put a...a sound barrier spell around us so you wouldn’t notice..."
Joy’s brows furrowed. "You were eavesdropping?"
Aqua winced and looked away.
"I thought maybe you two were saying something funny or awkward, and I was going to tease you later..."
"But I didn’t know you were telling...that kind of story! I didn’t know it’d be so sad!"
She said, and then burst into small tears again.
"We were listening quietly, and the more you talked, the more we cried! And then, Auntie Maria couldn’t hold it in anymore and she just ran out and hugged you!"
Isabelle let out a small sigh, nodding.
"It’s true. We didn’t mean to invade your privacy. It just became impossible to walk away after hearing that."
Meanwhile, Carmela blinked rapidly, still held firmly by Maria, whose arms showed no signs of letting go.
She gave a strained, nervous laugh, her face flushed from the sudden affection.
"I–It’s fine, really. I’m fine. This happened so long ago, I’m not—"
But Maria shook her head fiercely, cutting her off, her voice thick with conviction.
"No, Carmela. No. You are not fine. You’re still hurting—deep inside. I can feel it."
Carmela froze, her eyes widening slightly as Maria went on, voice trembling but strong.
"Even if it’s been decades—even if it’s been half a century—pain like that doesn’t fade. You can bury it, you can hide it, but it doesn’t vanish."
"And I could hear it in your voice. Every word you spoke about your mother, every word of regret, it still carries that pain!"
Carmela opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Maria smiled sadly through her tears, cupping Carmela’s cheek gently.
"And you know what?" Maria whispered. "That’s okay. It’s okay to still hurt. It’s okay to still cry for her. You lost someone precious, the one person who loved you most in the world. You don’t have to act strong about it."
Her voice broke a little as she went on.
"And honestly, before, when you called me your mother, I thought it was just something sweet, a simple little thing that warmed my heart. But after hearing your story..."
She took a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with tears.
"Now, I understand what that means. And I want you to know, Carmela—I’m so proud that you thought of me that way."
Carmela’s lips parted in quiet disbelief as Maria continued.
"Your mother must have been an incredible woman—strong, brave, and kind. She protected you until her last breath. And if you saw even a fragment of her in me..."
She placed a hand over her heart.
"Then it’s the greatest honor I could ever have."
A soft silence fell as Maria wiped her eyes, then looked directly into Carmela’s eyes with a gentle but resolute expression.
"So from now on..." She said softly. "...don’t just think of me as someone who looks like your mother. Think of me as your mother. Truly."
"You don’t have to replace her, no one ever could. But if it eases your heart, if it gives you even a little peace..."
Her voice quivered as she whispered.
"Then let me be that for you."
Carmela’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as she stared at the woman in front of her.
"...You can’t be serious." She whispered.
Maria smiled faintly through the tears on her cheeks.
"I’m very serious. I already have Joy as my daughter, and even Aqua over there, I see her as one too."
She glanced fondly toward the two, who were bickering over the eavesdropping.
"And I don’t mind having a third. Even if you’re older than me by...what, forty years?" She chuckled lightly. "I don’t care. You’ve lived a life that deserves love, Carmela. So please—if it helps you heal, call me mother."
Her voice softened into a whisper.
"And know that I would be proud, truly proud to call you my daughter."
For a moment, no one moved. The wind rustled softly through the leaves, carrying the faint sound of the nearby river.
Then, slowly, Carmela’s composure cracked. Her lips trembled, her vision blurred, and her hands rose shakily.
"...You’re all ridiculous."
She muttered weakly—and then, unable to hold it back any longer, she let out a quiet sob and wrapped her arms around Maria in return.
Maria smiled through her tears, holding her tighter, whispering softly.
"There, there, my dear. It’s alright. You’re not alone anymore."
And seeing this, Aqua sniffled louder, her hands clutching Isabelle’s sleeve, and even stoic Joy couldn’t stop a small, warm smile from forming on her face.
And there they stood—the crying mother, the trembling vampire, and the three onlookers—all bound together by warmth, sorrow, and a moment of healing that none of them had expected.
Carmela’s tears fell freely as Maria stroked her hair, whispering softly like a lullaby,
"My dear, dear child...you’ve suffered enough. Let it go. Let yourself be loved."
And for the first time in over half a century, Carmela truly allowed herself to cry—not as a killer, not as a vampire, but as someone’s daughter again.
