Deep Boredom - Part 3

When he opened his eyes, Chedev discovered the bloodstains that had spread onto the white negligee. Finally, he noticed the broken fragments of the teapot still clutched in his hand. The palm of his hand was torn and bloodied from wielding it as he swung his fist. The fleeting expressions of the servants, who had witnessed his deteriorated state, briefly flashed through his mind before disappearing.

As he became aware of the wound, a stinging sensation surged back vividly. Yet, even as he focused on it, Chedev’s pupils remained devoid of any emotions.

This pain cannot be compared to what Rasha must have experienced.

She must have felt even more intense suffering and despair from the person who treated her with boredom, more than this.

I understand now, after losing her. This physical pain was nothing compared to the torment of the heart. The former was fleeting and temporary, but the latter was throbbing and persistent. It was sharp and dull, and it completely shattered all senses, overpowering and leaving a strong aftertaste.

How many times has Rasha experienced this pain?

Sometimes it felt like he was falling into an abyss, sometimes it felt like he was wandering without purpose, and sometimes even taking a breath felt like an ordeal.

Why did she decide to leave my side after feeling it so many times?

And how dare I, in my numbness, continue to breathe so shamelessly after causing her harm. Rasha, who had no choice but to leave, perhaps suffered a great deal while wandering the streets.

I am the main culprit who pushed her into such a situation.

Unbeknownst to himself, Chedev was scratching his wrist with a shard of the teapot. The pointed part pierced the pulsating veins with precision. The bleeding was unlike anything that had flowed from his palm. Yet, Chedev did not furrow his brow.

‘Harder.

‘Harder, even more.’

Realizing that he had changed and feeling the anxiety that arose from recognizing that change, it pushed her to the brink. Maybe it was a signal, a plea for someone to soothe her own anxiety. But I, the damn fool, was too consumed with pleasure to notice…

On the morning she disappeared from here, what was Rasha thinking as she sat alone on the bed? Like him, who could only reflect like a lost child, perhaps she was thinking of her former self, and again, and again…

Chedev’s eardrum trembled at Rasha’s request for more.

In an instant, the glass shard sharply tore through the flesh, deeply embedding itself. At that moment, blood gushed out like a broken dam. The pain became vividly apparent. Simultaneously, his vision flickered as if he had missed something.

Finally, Chedev felt a profound sense of satisfaction as he experienced the excruciating agony and lost consciousness.

* * *

For a very long time, he delved into the past.

In those memories, Rasha, whom he yearned for so much, appeared. Now, even trying to recall her was a fleeting moment. She was different from the last time he had seen her. She was a bit more mature and a bit more bashful. She was the Rasha he first encountered in the stable.

From the moment they met, Rasha was a variable to Chedev.

The Duke of Cecilion, who hailed from an empire with a long-standing history, possessed impeccable lineage without any flaws. He showcased his potential from the very beginning with his excellent qualities and clean appearance. He was born with all the advantages one could ask for, and his life was destined to be filled with blessings. Furthermore, he had no need to engage in fierce succession disputes since everything belonging to the Duke was predestined treasures.

Chedev’s life was truly like a well-constructed road, flawlessly designed in every aspect. If he followed the predetermined path, he could create an incredibly splendid and remarkable picture. Although it could sometimes be monotonous, it was still comfortable enough that he never felt the need to deviate from it.

The turning point that led him astray from that trajectory was none other than Rasha.

From the moment he first saw her, he was strangely captivated. It was the first time Chedev experienced a sensation that made him feel intermittently parched. Even though she was clad in ordinary garments, he was curious about the touch of her slightly exposed fair skin and wondered how she would react if he gently grazed it with his fingertips. He couldn’t take his eyes off the graceful line of her neck, which was accentuated by her elegantly tied-up hair. Even in the dimly lit stable where only moonlight served as a guide, every detail of her was etched into his eyes.

In reality, even without the subtle impure curiosity, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It was because she was the first woman who exuded an atmosphere of favor towards him. The blush on her cheeks became vibrant whenever she glanced at him with busy, inquisitive eyes, as if subtly scratching an unseen place within him.

And that was why he found himself constantly heading towards the stable, a place he rarely visited. Chedev became aware of his own actions and, at the same time, felt a sense of resistance. Why did he constantly show interest in a commoner dressed in rags? He was well aware that this was distinctly different from sympathy or compassion, and the confusion began to consume him.

Until he met Rasha, he had always belonged to the dominant class, where his aristocratic mindset was ingrained to the core. Therefore, he couldn’t admit the fact that he was inexplicably drawn to a commoner. Since he had carried it within him since childhood, it was impossible to suppress this impure curiosity. As a result, the confusion deepened.

It reached a point where it became intolerable, especially when the daughter of a lowly stablehand even entered his mind while he was engulfed in the chaos of war. When the war finally led to a victory but left an indescribable unease behind, Chedev briefly fell into a deep sleep in the stable. During that time, he felt a faint warmth and a gentle breath. When he opened his eyes, he found Rasha unexpectedly standing right in front of him.

The thought that someone’s eyes could be beautiful was something he experienced for the first time in his life.

‘Do you have feelings for me?’

Whether it was the captivating violet pupils or not, the question didn’t come from his mind but was pulled out by his heart. The shimmering tranquility before his eyes swayed deeply like being swept away by violent waves. Even that trembling seemed remarkably graceful.

‘Yes.’

‘……’

‘I like you…’

Chedev clearly thought she would deny. However, for some unknown reason, Rasha, who always seemed eager to conceal her love, was the first to burst it out. It was as if, after enduring and enduring, love finally swelled up to an unbearable point and overflowed like a burst dam.

Rasha’s confession was undoubtedly at that moment. However, Chedev felt his heart sink with a thud. It was a dizzying sensation, impossible to imagine how far he had fallen. Confusion swallowed him in an instant. Indefinable sensations tangled inside him, and Chedev left the stable without looking back.

From then on, it was a period of confusion until he faced reality properly.

Or perhaps it was an acknowledgment of love.

The slight denial that he could be attracted to a mere commoner, the way his head would instinctively turn toward the stables when he returned to the manor, the way she would smile shyly in his presence, the way she would brush back his dark hair, lingered in his mind. The memories were vivid. The slight upward slant of her eyes when she smiled, the flickering violet pupils within, her pale and slender fingers that absentmindedly fiddled with things. Moreover, the insignificant conversations they shared during the unremarkable nights kept replaying in his mind, only for him to realize, after trying to brush them away, that he had returned to the same state.

Eventually, he succumbed to delusions about her and found himself kneeling before overpowering emotions. The noble pride that once ruled him couldn’t even voice its opinion in front of his uncontrollable heart.

On that night, Chedev couldn’t overcome the surging passion and went to find Rasha.

He held her waist tightly, the remaining strength in his arms, and sucked on her dim lips several times, savoring the intoxicating pleasure. It was those enticing lips, parted in surprise, that had unfolded in his dreams. They were alluring and yet endearing. The eyes, widened in astonishment upon seeing him, seemed to prove that this tumultuous sensation was not an illusion, but rather something lovely.

“……”

It was strange.

Until just a moment ago, the sense of reality was sufficient.

The coexistence with her, this ecstasy of flesh touching flesh, felt as real as it could be. However, in the blink of an eye, Rasha began to fade away gradually. Chedev couldn’t believe the moment when reality turned into fantasy.

Finally, when Rasha, who was in his arms, turned into smoke and vanished, the despair seeped into his chest. Chedev slowly opened his eyes.

“Master…!”

The butler was staring at him with a face marked by ten years of service. When he regained his senses, it was already a day later. Only then did Chedev realize that the Rasha he had seen was nothing but an illusion from his dreams.

As soon as Chedev woke up, the Duke’s physician rushed over and explained the situation hastily. He asked about the condition of the wound, what precautions needed to be taken, and if there were any other discomforts. Chedev heard the concerned questions pouring into one ear and out the other, staring blankly at the ceiling as if still trapped in a dream.

There was no distinct sense of wandering in a dream. Rather, it was a longing to grasp even a fragment of that dream.

The extreme measures taken by Duke Cecilion were naturally kept secret among his close aides.

The quickest way to receive information was through the mouths of others. The news spread through various channels, from the closely intertwined families in the political and economic circles, as if inquiring about their well-being, trying to ascertain the truth of the rumors. Furthermore, due to Marquis Robeni, who had been rebuffed by the Duke and sent a denunciation letter to the royal palace along with the broken engagement notification, the situation became uncontrollably magnified.

While the others were busy and bustling, Chedev rolled around like a machine with a loose screw, unable to find any respite.

The first problem was the wound. When he woke up, he couldn’t move his left arm at all. It was because the broken glass had inadvertently affected his nervous system, causing the problem. Due to this, everyone around him was in a state of chaos, desperately striving for his treatment, but Chedev remained indifferent as if it were someone else’s business.

Fortunately, after several weeks of complete rest, the condition of his left arm had improved considerably. His fingers moved of their own volition, which many, including his doctors, thought was a decade in the making.

But that was not the end of the problems.

The biggest concern was the Duke himself.

Since he still couldn’t get proper sleep, the Duke was always half-conscious, even on a sunny afternoon. His once sharp eyes had become completely dull, as if made of rusted metal. In fact, for the current Chedev, just waking up and sitting properly was an arduous task.

After the self-harm attempt, he had lost all will to live. His apathetic attitude felt as if he were standing on a long rope, on the verge of slipping off. It was because he didn’t know when he would snap, in other words, when he would make an attempt to fall into the abyss. So despite carrying the burden of anxiety, all they could do was silently observe. With his current state, even the slightest attempt at persuasion seemed like a provocation.

In such a state, he couldn’t personally entertain anyone as he used to. Day by day, even if someone came to see the Duke, they were sent away with polite excuses, using the pretense of an official audience.

And so, it continued for another day.