Chapter 2
“Thank you, everyone!”
Sweetpea waved a goodbye to the plants that had helped her and started running.
The fragile plants wouldn’t be able to hold the large Chris for long. On top of that, with Sweetpea’s lame leg, even if she ran, it was obvious that Chris would catch her quickly. So, she had to escape as far and as fast as possible while Chris was still immobilized.
The birds flew back to her side. They guided Sweetpea into the deep forest, a place humans seldom ventured.
Passing through a sunlit open field, she entered a forest where the trees were so dense that the shadows were pitch black. There, the birds scattered. Sweetpea hid under the largest tree, holding her breath. Just then, she heard hurried footsteps approaching from afar.
“Damn it! Sweetpea, you little brat! Where are you hiding?!”
Sweetpea’s shoulders shook as she heard Chris’s enraged shouting.
If only he would just go away…
“If I catch you, I’ll beat you senseless!”
Unfortunately, Chris didn’t seem inclined to disappear just yet.
‘What if he comes this way…’
Sweetpea, who had never seen any good come from accidentally angering Chris, felt tears well up in her eyes.
Tense and barely able to breathe, she felt a ticklish sensation on her shoulder. When she carefully looked down, a blue butterfly with jewel-like sparkling wings gently flapped and flew in a certain direction.
Holding her breath, Sweetpea followed the butterfly, keeping an eye on Chris in the distance. The butterfly was leading her deeper into the forest.
“Butterfly, where are we going…?”
With Chris nowhere in sight, Sweetpea spoke softly to the butterfly, but the beautiful creature remained silent.
She had never ventured this far before and grew fearful of encountering a dangerous animal. She even considered turning back; after all, while she could communicate with animals, there was no guarantee she could reason with bloodthirsty beasts.
After some hesitation, Sweetpea finally stopped walking. By then, however, the butterfly had already reached its intended destination.
“….”
There was a small grave. Its gravestone bore inscriptions, but they were weathered and hard to read. The place was eerie, yet the flowers surrounding the grave softened that feeling.
The flowers were unnaturally abundant, vibrant, and beautiful.
“Do you know who this grave belongs to?”
Sweetpea spoke gently to the flowers. Unlike the other plants, these flowers gave no response, as if deeply asleep.
Sweetpea didn’t demand an answer. Instead, she caressed the fragrant petals and whispered the flower’s name.
“Lisiantheus…”
Perhaps it was a mistake to whisper the lovely flower’s name. Light began to glow from the flowers around the grave. Surprised, Sweetpea stumbled backward and fell onto her bottom. Frozen with shock, she couldn’t even scream as an astonishing sight unfolded before her: the flowers had taken human form.
A man with long hair as black as the night sky leaned against the gravestone, his eyes closed. One of his eyes was covered with a white cloth, as if injured.
Even with one eye covered and the other closed, the man—who had transformed from flowers into a human—was undeniably beautiful. His skin was smooth and flawless like perfect porcelain, his long eyelashes striking, his shoulders broad and strong, and veins stood out on his large hands.
Who was this mysterious man? Should I wake him…?
Cautiously, Sweetpea reached out toward the sleeping man. The moment her fingertip brushed his hair, his eyelashes fluttered.
“Ah….”
Startled, Sweetpea withdrew her hand. The man’s eyelid lifted.
“….”
“….”
Their eyes met. Sweetpea, astonished by his beauty, couldn’t speak.
“Little one.”
“Y-yes…?”
The voice was low, soft, and seemed almost half-asleep. It spoke to her kindly, despite the sleepy tone.
“How did you get in here?”
“Well, the butterfly… led me here…”
“….”
“J-just by chance…”
“By chance?”
Sweetpea nodded quickly in response.
“Perhaps the time has come…”
The man muttered something that sounded like either talking to someone or to himself, then glanced at Sweetpea again.
“So, you are the one who woke me?”
Having indeed woken him, Sweetpea quickly bowed her head.
“I-I’m sorry if I disturbed you… I didn’t think it would be good for you to sleep outside…”
“No need to make a long explanation. It’s bothersome.”
The gentle voice turned curt, yet the man smiled faintly at her. He was unpredictable, but perhaps because of his beauty, Sweetpea felt her heart race when his uncovered eye curved into a crescent smile.
“Little one.”
Yet, the man’s mouth…
“Now, go away.”
It was far from gentle.
Fortunately, that day, Sweetpea returned to the tavern without getting beaten by Chris. Over time, Chris tired himself out; he hit Sweetpea once but then let it go.
Though she got scolded by Madam Margo for disappearing and slacking off while work was needed, it was far better than being struck by Chris.
From that day, Sweetpea’s dull and gloomy daily life was given a small breeze of change. She began splitting the tiny meals Madam Margo gave her and heading into the forest.
Today, she sought out the man to share her meager food.
“Um… excuse me…”
Hidden behind a tree, Sweetpea timidly called to the man, who had always leaned against the gravestone. He looked at her with irritation.
“I told you not to come here.”
“But…”
“If you have nothing to do, go away.”
He showed no smile today. Though annoyed, Sweetpea, now accustomed to his reaction, didn’t retreat as easily. More importantly, unlike Madam Margo or Chris, he never struck her. His words weren’t warm, but they didn’t humiliate her either. That alone was enough reason for Sweetpea to visit him.
Other villagers either pitied Sweetpea for being lame or looked down on her. Occasionally, she had someone neutral and kind to talk to, but Chris would never allow it. Being the only child of Madam Margo, Chris was possessive and hated Sweetpea growing close to anyone else.
Though surrounded by plants and animals, Sweetpea was naturally drawn to someone like him.
“Madam Margo made stew today. She burned it a little, but it should still be tasty…”
The man had never eaten the food Sweetpea offered. Despite repeated attempts, he only looked at it as though it were garbage.
Of course, most food Madam Margo gave Sweetpea was leftovers or burnt scraps, so it wasn’t surprising.
“Ha… I said go away.”
Tired, the man rubbed his eyes, but Sweetpea pretended not to notice. She even handed him some unburnt bread. Though she heard his incredulous laugh, she ignored his reaction.
“Little one, are you not afraid of me?”
“….”
“What if I were a scary monster?”
“…you’re not.”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
Summoning courage, Sweetpea spoke aloud.
“You don’t hit me.”
“….”
“So being told to go away doesn’t scare me.”
After boldly saying this, she glanced at the man like a soaked little creature, fragile yet determined.
He already knew she was abused, visible from her daily bruises. He just didn’t intervene unnecessarily.
“I should go now. Last time I was too late, Madam Margo scolded me.”
The girl, reciting her excuses, left the uneaten food behind, bowed politely, and hurried away on her fragile legs.
Having a picnic at someone else’s grave, politely leaving without asking about the mysterious man’s identity—what a peculiar human child.
The man, tired from observing the young girl, closed his eyes, caressing the smooth green leaves around the grave to rest.
In thirty minutes, the tavern—the only one in the village—would close.
Sweetpea, responsible for cleaning and washing the last dishes, tidied the empty tables. Except for regulars, most tables were vacant.
Madam Margo chatted with loyal patrons while Sweetpea worked.
“Did you see the morning paper today?”
“Was there any interesting news?”
“This one doesn’t even read the paper! You should at least know what’s going on in the world!”
“I’m too busy to read such trivial things!”
Their drunken voices were loud; Sweetpea couldn’t help overhearing.
“Apparently, there have been dragon sightings lately?”
Her hands froze while stacking the dishes.
“Hey! You’re not a child! How childish!”
“Really! People in the capital have seen dragons. Even in neighboring countries! Sightings are becoming frequent!”
“There’s no such thing as dragons. They’re just mythical.”
“Still, our ancestors worshiped dragons as gods.”
“So they didn’t exist. Where are the gods in this world?!”
“Oh, you’re atheist, that’s why!”
Her hands moved again only after hearing Madam Margo scold her for slacking. Though slow due to her leg, she quickly finished the dishes.
After finishing, Sweetpea went upstairs to the attic, covering herself with a blanket from head to toe. She felt a sudden urge to hide from dragons that could appear at any moment.
She recalled the customers’ conversation:
“Apparently, there have been dragon sightings lately?”
“Hey! You’re not a child! How childish!”
‘That’s not just a rumor.’
People might dismiss it as nonsense, but Sweetpea knew dragons existed.
‘I saw it.’
Even from her earliest memories, she vividly remembered the moment a dragon destroyed her village.
