~Chapter 04~
The man had his back to the window, and Edith faced it. He wore a deep hood and a mask, making it almost impossible for her to gauge his presence—Edith seemed far at a disadvantage. From head to toe in black, he seemed almost like a shadow.
“How…?”
Edith’s mind went completely blank. She couldn’t even scream. If she made a sound, it felt like the sharp blade in his hand would instantly pierce Leon. And indeed, the tip of his sword was pointed toward Leon’s chest.
It took her a long moment before she could speak.
“The child was just born. From the start, the purpose of your coming here wasn’t about the child either.”
“…….”
“So please, spare the child.”
The room was silent, broken only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of the deeply sleeping child. The man did not move. He didn’t intimidate or threaten; he simply stared.
Edith took trembling steps. She had to protect Leon at all costs.
The moonlight grew stronger with each step, sharpening her silhouette. And as she drew closer to Leon, the distance between her and the man beside him naturally closed. Even when she reached the bedside, his face remained hidden in shadow. Not being able to see his expression heightened her anxiety. She paused briefly, then finally stretched out her arms and lifted Leon.
The child’s tiny warmth seeped into her chest, and only then did her restrained breath escape with a long, quiet exhale.
“……Thank you.”
She wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to say, but she whispered it while turning her back to the man a step away.
At that moment, the child began to fuss.
No. Don’t cry. Please… not now.
“You weren’t given permission to leave.”
Like a towering presence, Zekart’s voice made her stop in her tracks, watching her from the shadows.
“I also didn’t say I’d spare you.”
At each of his words, Edith’s small shoulders twitched, as if she’d been struck.
Zekart approached her slowly.
He had no intention of killing her or the child—she wasn’t his target. Killing them would only leave a dirty feeling behind. He was indifferent to murder, not deriving pleasure from it.
Then why?
The question arose the moment he stopped just two steps away from her.
Until then, Edith had remained frozen, like a rooted stone. It annoyed him slightly that the fear he instilled and the resignation it spawned had such a hold over her.
Why that, though?
In fact, the question came too late. It wasn’t the first time he had behaved in a way he didn’t understand himself.
The strangeness began the moment he crossed the window bathed in moonlight. More specifically, the instant he saw the child in the faded cradle.
Watching the child suck her thumb and fall asleep, Zekart felt an unfamiliar, strange sensation. He almost reached out to touch the child’s slightly sweaty black hair.
“……!”
Amid the disordered thoughts, a dull pain pierced him.
Blood trickling down the back of his hand made him realize the embroidery scissors lodged in his shoulder. Leaving them as they were, he stared at the woman.
Though her wide bonnet hid her expression, the pale hand trembling faintly in the air betrayed her emotions.
A reluctant smirk crossed his lips.
‘Someone might think I was the one stabbed.’
The woman stepped back stiffly until the door blocked her path, clutching the child tightly with rigid hands.
“Please… the child…”
Though the child fell asleep again, Edith began to tremble and sob quietly.
Zekart furrowed his brows briefly. He hated noise, after all.
Instead, he slowly scanned the trembling woman with his eyes. His gaze traced her delicate curves, stopping briefly at the small patch of white ankle revealed at the hem of her skirt. It looked fragile enough to break with a little force.
“I won’t kill you.”
Zekart said it impulsively. He didn’t need to, but somehow felt compelled to.
He didn’t tell her to stop trembling. That alone was enough to mark his unusual behavior.
Zekart removed the small scissors from his shoulder, intending to return them to her and leave. He felt uneasy about leaving without finishing his task, but he didn’t want to stay. The strange feelings that welled up whenever he saw the woman and child made him uneasy.
What should one call this feeling?
He was lost in the word that wouldn’t come to mind when suddenly footsteps sounded outside the door.
Thump… thump…
In an instant, both moved quickly.
Edith turned toward the door in a hurry, and Zekart caught her from behind, covering her mouth. He felt her small lips struggle against his palm.
“Quiet.”
At the low warning, she nodded slightly.
Thump… thump…
The sound of footsteps wandering the living room reached them in the silent room, along with the warmth pressed closely between them.
Edith froze, unable to exhale. She felt as if she were standing on a thin layer of ice, precarious and fragile.
Please… Perel.
But contrary to her wishes, the footsteps seemed to approach briefly, then gradually receded and finally vanished.
With her last hope gone, Edith held Leon even tighter.
It was then that the man’s hand, which had only covered her mouth, began to move.
His fingertips brushed her flushed cheeks, tracing slowly down her forehead and nose beneath the bonnet, as if measuring something. Finally, they reached her trembling lips.
Ha.
The breath she had held back escaped in a heated sigh.
Her shoulders shook. Probably from fear. Edith guessed that this strange warmth rising now was caused by that fear.
The man’s hand slowed further as it touched her lips, stroking both upper and lower lips evenly, then pausing.
Edith instinctively extended her tongue to wet her dry lips, a habit born from tension. In doing so, her tongue brushed against his retreating fingers.
Edith was startled. She tried to pull back, but his strong arm pressed her firmly, holding her close. His solid frame pressed against her back and hips.
And like a lie, his hand began to slip between her lips—specifically, the inner wet flesh of her lower lip.
His hand explored the delicate flesh, almost brushing her teeth.
Edith, holding Leon with both hands, had no way to resist his touch. Even if her hands were free, she likely couldn’t have done anything. The mysterious presence of the man had left her unable to speak from the start.
Time, which had seemed frozen, began to flow again when a faint cry came from the child below.
“Leon… seems to be awake.”
Perel’s voice followed, reacting to the noise outside.
The man remained calm, even with the door potentially opening. It was Edith who startled and tried to push him away. Of course, he let her go willingly.
Edith staggered slightly as she turned. She finally thought she would confront him, but all she could see was his back. The man who had once stood with his back to the moon now walked toward it.
Sitting on the windowsill, he glanced briefly in Edith’s direction. She wasn’t certain—his face was shrouded in darkness, silhouetted against the light.
Still, Edith couldn’t shake the feeling he was looking at her. She wanted to say something, anything, but no words came.
The man fully disappeared at the exact moment Perel opened the door.
“Le… Edith?”
Hearing Perel’s startled voice, Edith collapsed, realizing she had been holding her breath.
The long-held breath escaped with a sigh. Perhaps because it had been so heated, she felt a sharp sting inside her lips.
It was where the man’s hand had touched.
