Chapter 13
She strained her frail body and pushed against the door with all her strength, but her feet only slipped uselessly on the slick floor. Ezra turned around and took in the dim space behind her. Vast darkness loomed just at her back. What if something hiding in that pitch-black void suddenly lunged out and tore her apart? What if it grabbed her at this very moment and dragged her off somewhere?
With every passing moment, her fear climbed to its limit.
“Please, open the door! Please! I—I did something wrong, I know I did…!”
What had she done wrong? The question rose up, and Ezra immediately knew the answer.
Being born at all had been her mistake.
“I’m scared…! Please, let me out. Please!”
Her cries fell into emptiness, her voice breaking apart and echoing back in loneliness.
“I was wrong! I really was! Lady Glossa, I—I won’t do anything anymore. I’ll live as if I’m dead. So please…”
Don’t lock me in here.
Her desperate sobbing was meaningless as her body slowly grew colder. Her jaw began to tremble, and Ezra crawled weakly back into the wooden tub, lowering herself inside. The water that had felt close to boiling earlier had already become lukewarm.
“Please… open it…”
No matter when she might be let out, before long the water would turn ice-cold. Hugging her knees, she curled herself as small as possible and buried her face, praying for the loneliness to pass.
Tears gathered at her chin and fell, rippling the quiet surface of the water. Of everything that was growing cold, only the tears running down her cheeks remained stubbornly hot. She wiped her face roughly, resentment with nowhere to go swelling inside her.
“Please, open it.”
How much would she have to cry before she could feel warm again? How much before life itself would end?
“I said, open it.”
After hundreds of whispered repetitions, the water finally went cold. Even then, there was no sign the door would open. No matter how much she pounded, begged, or eventually gave up, it did not open.
Having abandoned all hope, Ezra climbed out of the tub and wandered blindly through the pitch-dark space. There was nothing here. Nothing that could hurt her. So it was fine.
Even if she tripped and fell.
Even if nameless objects stacked high fell onto her head.
Even if she crashed into jutting planks, rolled across the floor, scraped her skin raw…
Even if she ended up crying like this.
“Ezra.”
She collapsed onto a floor bristling with splinters, sobbing. The way he had once spoken her name hurt unbearably. The person who had taught her what pain was—she resented him, just a little. Because if he left, she would live a life that could never forget him.
Maybe she should have told him. That it hurt. That it hurt so much.
Now there was no one left, so it would be fine. The tears slipping through her closed eyes, the sobs trembling through the air like whimpers.
A cold wind blew over her heaving back. Her damp body gradually dried, losing its warmth. She had no sense of how much time passed. A cold like being sealed in ice. Just as her thoughts began to scatter and fade, her fingertips brushed against something.
She twitched her fingers and grasped it. A shard of broken wood, shattered from impact. The sharp edge bit into her palm, making her flinch. Blood quickly soaked her hand, yet Ezra only gripped it tighter.
It was shameless, but she wanted to give up on everything now. She didn’t have the strength to live a life where pain could still be felt—where being cut hurt, where being torn was agony.
“I wish I were dead.”
The moment her purple-tinged lips clearly formed the words, her hesitation vanished. Struggling onto her back, Ezra raised the shard and drove it down mercilessly into her uninjured wrist.
Thud—
The sound of something sharp tearing into flesh was brutal.
Her arms, already drained of strength, soon fell limp against the floor. The shard embedded in her wrist twitched once, then her fingers slowly curled inward on their own.
Clear drops of blood seeped out between the wood and her skin, then began to stream down. Turning her head away from the dulling pain, Ezra let out a small, broken giggle in the empty space.
Trying to escape the sins and punishment she was meant to bear to the end. How cowardly. Yet even as she awaited death, her heart felt strangely calm… She closed her eyes, feeling the blood trickle down, and dreamed.
A dream where the door that would never open finally did, and the voice she had shamelessly longed to hear called to her once more.
A cruel dream that left behind longing.
Dawn became morning, morning passed into night. Only after the pleading sounds and the frantic pounding at the door had long since ceased did the man finally make his way there.
Matari stood guard behind him at a distance, keeping her place without speaking.
“How long has it been?” he asked.
“She was taken in at dawn. Nearly a full day has passed.”
Hippolytus gave a short snort and nodded. He easily undid the tightly fastened lock, kicked aside the metal bolt with a clang, and pulled open the crude wooden door.
The creaking sound was as eerie as the scream of the dead. Wrinkling his brow at the stench of rot drifting out, Hippolytus stepped inside despite himself.
“Well. I didn’t really want to take it this far.”
Cold air rushed in through the cracks in the broken boards, carrying with it a thick metallic scent of blood. Had she tried to threaten him by harming herself? Tilting his head briefly, his expression soon hardened as he froze in place.
This wasn’t just a little.
“…Damn it.”
He strode across the bath without hesitation and scooped the collapsed woman into his arms. Her body was ice-cold and stiff like a log. Blood stained her purple lips, and sticky pools of it had gathered around her.
She looked no different from a corpse.
Holding her tightly, Hippolytus finally released the breath he’d been holding when he felt the faint warmth still lingering—and the fragile breath that seemed ready to break at any moment. Quickly undoing his cloak, he wrapped it tightly around her body and lifted Ezra without delay.
After all the pointless acting it had taken to get her this far—he had nearly ruined everything with his own hands.
The look in his eyes as he stared down at her was like that of someone who had nearly lost his prey.
He knew she was foolish and weak, but to think she would give up so completely, so easily. The thought that she had dared to try to end her own life made him seethe.
“Ezra.”
If your breath had truly stopped and ruined my plans, I would have cut your corpse into pieces and fed it to the beasts.
And that wouldn’t have been all. I would have taken King Hieros’s head and held it before your eyes—or tortured him until he begged for death, and then—
Suppressing the boiling rage fueled by such cruel imaginings, Hippolytus climbed the stone steps. His gaze fell on the limp nape of her neck. Beneath the translucent skin, her veins were visible. If he had cut there, blood would have gushed out violently, killing her at once.
You don’t even know how to die properly, you fool.
“Just wait a little longer.”
Yes—just a little longer. The day you truly wish for death, and the day my purpose is fulfilled. On that day, I’ll grant you the death you so desperately want.
He was still making that vow when he realized her eyes were open.
At some point, she had regained consciousness. Her unfocused gaze met his. As she weakly tried to hide her injured wrist, tears spilled from her eyes once more.
“Ezra… you did something foolish.”
As if nothing had happened, he swallowed and softened his expression. He bit hard into the inside of his mouth, forcing tears to well up.
Pulling her trembling body tightly into his arms, he corrected himself gently.
“No. I’m sorry. I should have paid more attention. This is all my fault. So now…”
“Um… I…”
Her lips, crusted with dried blood, parted slightly. She had enough strength left to speak. Annoyed at being interrupted, Hippolytus frowned openly. Having called him, she hesitated again, clearly struggling.
“…My hair. It looks strange, doesn’t it?”
Of all things.
A hollow laugh slipped between his teeth. Suppressing the irritation boiling inside, he gently stroked her uneven hair.
“…It’s a little shorter. But it suits you. What wouldn’t suit you?”
He forced a joking tone, uncomfortable with the dullness clouding her eyes.
“Whatever you look like, you’re always beautiful to me.”
Lies spilled easily from his lips as he pulled her closer. He pressed a kiss to her slowly blinking eyelids, swallowing the tears that gathered there. Even when his lips left her, she cried out of habit, her face eerily calm.
“I… it hurts right now. It really hurts.”
As he wiped her tears away, Ezra finally said what she truly wanted to say. With those words, her body went limp again, losing consciousness in his arms. Her arm fell heavily, striking something deep in his chest with a strange, dull sensation. Hippolytus frowned tightly.
Her face, which should not have known such expressions, was cold as frost.
With perfectly composed steps, Hippolytus climbed the stone tower. Two maids stood guard before a stone door, protecting an empty room. At his approach, they stiffened in confusion.
“Move.”
Adjusting the limp body in his arms, he carried her more securely. Burning with fever, Ezra murmured faintly through dry lips, writhing weakly. Her labored breathing heated his chest.
When the door opened, what appeared was a prison that was not quite a prison. He paused at the threshold, calmly surveying it. A room barely the size of a palm, built entirely of stone, where the sound of passing wind sang softly.
He laid Ezra on the old bed and brushed her hand away from him. Matari approached silently from behind, holding lukewarm water and a soft cloth.
“Make her recover as quickly as possible. I’ll take care of everything else.”
A carefully woven web. Drive her into it, then patiently make her crawl back of her own accord—until she can do nothing, until escape becomes impossible.
The cruelty of the man’s calculated play sent chills through Matari, but she dared not show it. Bowing deeply to hide her fear, she answered obediently.
“Yes.”
Hippolytus left the room without a shred of hesitation.
Matari watched Ezra for a moment, her expression complicated, then shook her head lightly as if to chase away her thoughts and stepped closer to tend to her.
