“Quietly dispose of the body… you.”
Evan, who had been bringing in the two servants, looked at Shailo, who was hesitantly standing, and fell into contemplation. Evan, having let the servants wait outside, closed the door behind him and wiped his face with one hand. He glared at her with a cold, stiffened expression.
“Ah… since when have you been here? Could it be from the very beginning?”
“…I came in just to catch my breath, but then my older brother and this person came in.”
“Then it must indeed be from the beginning.”
Evan let out a heavy sigh and strode over, seating Shailo on the couch. As if the corpse collapsed between them was not even there, Evan opened his mouth first.
“I won’t make any excuses, Shailo. I poisoned that man.”
At her acquiescent acknowledgment, Shailo tightly closed her eyes. A heavy voice continued.
“I did not wish to show you this side of me.”
“So that was why you called me here again.”
“…Yes.”
Even though he had already realized it a moment ago, the confirmation of the fact only made the abhorrent emotions surge within him even more. Shailo, her trembling legs barely supporting her, ran to the window. Several times, she nearly vomited as if she were about to be sick, but only bitter bile emerged. Turning to face the approaching Evan, Shailo asked slowly and clearly.
“Do… do you know everything?”
“I know. About your father, your mother, and Claire.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
A headache surged as a chill swept through her whole body. It felt as if her throat was completely choked.
“It was the Duchess who found me at the orphanage and brought me here! She said she would treat me as her own daughter. Even your older brother, and your father treated me like their own daughter, like their own sibling. I was truly happy. And so, I tried my best to live up to that expectation! But…!”
Though she struggled to remain composed, her outcry, mixed with the sound of clashing metal, seemed more like a cry of despair.
“After Claire returned, as if we’d made some kind of bargain, all three of them turned their backs on me… so I left. It’s hard enough to accept that Claire now despises me, but at least I understand that part. The story that I whipped and drove away the maids and servants… “
“That was all a lie. It was Claire who did that. You are blameless.”
In the wake of this belated explanation, honest confession returned. Shailo, as if defending herself, crossed her hands over her chest and shook her head.
“Lies.”
“Even then, I knew everything. I knew that you were not at fault.”
“No. It’s a lie!”
“Shailo.”
“No!”
“You were nothing more than a shadow of Claire. Your mother, your father, and even I, none of us ever saw you for who you truly are.”
She wanted to deny it, but there was no escaping the truth. The sincerity in his eyes pierced Shailo’s ravaged heart all the more.
“I even tried to place something in the place where you truly disappeared, but the feeling of loss just couldn’t be filled.”
“I… was never even abandoned. Then…”
Having never genuinely accepted the truth, she had never really been abandoned. All the warmth and tenderness. All of it was a lie, because none of them had ever truly seen her for who she was.
“I knew it, deep down. And yet I still wanted to deny it.”
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Without even attempting to wipe them away, Shailo blinked back tears. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably as if overcome by shivers, and she could scarcely steady herself.
“Shailo.”
Evan called her softly, as Shailo sank to the floor. Taking a knee, Evan lowered himself to meet her eye-to-eye. Perhaps apologetic, Shailo lifted her head, but in the next moment her face twisted in a contorted anguish.
Gazing down at her as if he were looking at a worm wriggling on the floor, Evan clicked his tongue.
“They say that a life crawling in the gutter is somehow of use to us. That you never grasped the gist until the very end.”
The tears that had been held back finally spilled over. Grasping Evan by the collar, Shailo pleaded.
“…And yet… are you still human?”
“What?”
Raising his eyebrows, Evan clutched Shailo’s neck. Despite the threat, Shailo glared defiantly at Evan.
“Your blood is as blue as ice. Monsters without acknowledgement or any sense of feeling.”
“Speak as you please. Your parting words are surprisingly novel.”
Laughing snidely, Evan tightened his grip. In response, Shailo raised her nails in resistance against his crushing grasp.
“Ugh…”
“Don’t worry, Shailo. I will dispose of your corpse under that bridge again. I’ll throw it into the dump where your mother died.”
Her breath stifled, and her vision gradually turned white. She struggled, clawed, and screamed, but the door remained firmly shut.
‘Mother.’
Shailo recalled the image of her hand, once as barren as a dried branch. The face that had once desperately called for happiness, clinging to her arm, flashed in her mind.
‘Mother…’
Her consciousness, already parched and waning, was now plunging headlong into oblivion. When the last hallucination appeared before her, and she reached out her hand.
“Young Master!”
Without any knock, the door opened. Just as her breath was about to be severed, Evan hesitated and then spoke.
“What is it?”
“It is urgent. I believe you need to come out for a moment.”
“What?”
“Right now!”
As if there was no time for explanations, the butler roughly dragged Evan outside. The moment the door slammed shut, the sound of a lock clicking echoed immediately.
She needed to escape, but her body wouldn’t respond. Her strength had completely deserted her, and exhausted Shailo collapsed to the floor.
“After all, someone must be guarding the outside…”
And soon enough, Evan would return to finish her off.
Her vision, already tilting, began to fade once more. Gasping for breath, Shailo struggled to turn her body, using every last bit of strength she could muster from the ceiling. It was deeply unfair and sorrowful that the last thing she saw before dying was the corpse of a man she’d never seen before.
Before long, the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps filled the space again. Believing it was the end, she closed her eyes, only to hear a heavy thud followed by the short, intense screams of men echoing in her ears.
When she opened her eyes in confusion, the firmly locked door was now open. Two men had entered the room. The first man approached and ran his hand under the sagging chin of the corpse, then reported to the other.
“He’s dead.”
“Judging by the lack of external injuries, it must be poisoning.”
Clicking his tongue, the second man advanced toward Shailo. The moment she recognized who he was, her gradually dimming bright blue eyes suddenly flared with determination.
“Y-you…”
“Why are you here?”
“……”
It was Shailo who was meant to speak. Why are you here? Her confused gaze met his, as his inscrutable eyes silently scrutinized her and demanded an answer.
“Do you want to live?”
She did want to live, more desperately and earnestly than ever before. Nodding her head, he slowly asked again.
“No act of kindness comes without a price. Later on, no matter what I ask of you?”
“Your Highness! That would be dangerous.”
The man next to him protested, addressing him in an unfamiliar manner as if trying to intervene. But he, not swayed by her plea, stared down at her and pressed for an answer.
“Choose.”
Though she did not know this man’s identity or what his proposition entailed, she knew she did not wish to suffer such an untimely, miserable death. Her lips parted to speak, but the shock that had crushed her spirit left her utterly mute.
“Caleb, Your Highness. There is no time. Besides, taking this woman out with you is far too risky…”
Her trembling hand instead grasped the hem of her skirt in place of an answer. Caleb, yes, that man, smiled as he spoke through his throat, then knelt down and, without a trace of hesitation, scooped her up in his arms. As Shailo felt his large hands enveloping her shoulders and knees, she lost consciousness.
*** *** *** *** ***
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in an unfamiliar room.
“Where is this…”
Shailo, leaning against the headboard of the bed, slowly sat up. The room featured violet-painted magnolia wallpaper, a marble fireplace with delicate reliefs of angel figures, and a bed draped with curtains on three sides.
Despite the lavish décor, the room exuded a strangely desolate atmosphere. A hollow, empty shell filled only with opulence.
“Where am I?”
Muttering to herself, Shailo began to get off the bed by pulling back the blanket. Almost simultaneously, the door opened and someone entered.
“Just in time to wake up.”
With startled eyes, Shailo recognized the owner of the room. The man who had saved her. It was the same person who, two years ago by the lakeside, had fastened a rosary around her neck. Yet, at that time, he had pretended not to know her.
“Are you all right?”
The man approached with the ease of flowing water and confidently took a seat on the bedside console. Before Shailo could muster a response, he placed his hand on his forehead as if checking something.
“You don’t seem to have a fever.”
“And you… who are you?”
Perhaps still choking on the residual tightness of her throat from earlier, Shailo found it extremely difficult to speak; her voice came out with an edge of cold metal. The man, however, seemed unbothered and offered a slight, knowing smile.
“It’s been a while, Shailo.”
It was a smile reminiscent of the end of February.
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