Though she had asked for food because she needed to eat, she couldn’t bring herself to consume it once it was placed before her. Vivianne stared blankly at the bread in front of her.

What if it contains poison? What if he’s trying to kill her and turn her into a taxidermy specimen like her sisters and Annabel?

The sudden suspicion made her too anxious to eat. Could he have read her thoughts? After observing her hesitation, Kian took a bite of the bread himself before offering it to her.

“It’s soft and easy to eat. Here.”

If it were poisoned, he wouldn’t have eaten it like that. True—he had said he wanted to dry her alive, so he wouldn’t kill her this way. Vivianne finally accepted the bread with both hands, hesitantly putting it in her mouth.

Despite its softness, she couldn’t taste anything. But taste didn’t matter. She had to survive, and to survive, she needed to eat anything available. Repeating this to herself, she forced the bread down and chewed.

When her eyes met Kian’s watchful gaze—like someone inspecting completed homework—bile suddenly rose in her throat.

“Cough, cough, urgh, cough!”

A fit of coughing erupted, and she gagged. Blood rushed to her face, blurring her vision.

He immediately handed her a cup of water. Though she desperately wanted to slap his hand away, she restrained herself and accepted it. Indeed, despite what her mind had decided, simply enduring reality wasn’t easy. What she had experienced was too traumatic.

The image of Annabel’s pale wrist with that pitiful lace ribbon attached to it, and her empty gaze staring into nothingness kept haunting her, driving her to the brink of madness. Vivianne sipped the water and tried to steady her breathing slowly.

“…!”

Just then, he raised his hand. Reflexively, like when the bile had risen, her body shrank back. For a moment, his hand paused before slowly settling on her back. The gentle stroking made her skin bristle.

Though he probably meant to help with digestion, she felt uneasy, fearing he might suddenly transform and rake his claws across her nape. An ambiguous emotion washed over her—it could be contempt or fear. If she had to define him in one word, the first that came to mind was…

“Monster.”

* * *

After sleeping like the dead for the first few days, she now suffered from terrible insomnia. Though she kept her eyes tightly shut, pretending to sleep, she couldn’t actually drift off. Even sleep-inducing tea proved useless.

Annabel had told her to survive, so she had to live—but when she opened her eyes, there was only Kian. With every waking moment feeling like h*ll and unable to sleep, she felt she might go mad.

After spending several sleepless nights in deep thought, she reached one conclusion: first, she needed to get the shackle removed. To accomplish this, she had to make Kian believe she wouldn’t try to escape.

Trust could be shattered in an instant, but rebuilding it took time. Vivianne decided to start with the easiest approach—being completely docile.

Any clumsy resistance would only make him enforce his will more strongly, inevitably worsening her situation. During the first few days, memories of the “taxidermy room” made it difficult to even look at his face, but gradually she grew numb to it—as though nothing had happened, as though it had all been a dream.

But the memories etched in her mind were too vivid to be just a dream. She felt guilty toward Annabel, but whenever those feelings arose, she remembered Annabel’s words urging her to survive at all costs.

As she became more compliant, he eased his forceful attitude. He began caring for her attentively as he had before—feeding her meals, changing her clothes, and bathing her in the tub.

Whenever his hands slid over her with soap bubbles, she shivered, feeling the touch like a blade.

Simultaneously, she had to squeeze her eyes shut at the sensation of his body pressing heavily against her back. This was true not only during baths but also at bedtime. She had to fall asleep forcibly held in his arms, and each time, before long, she would feel that part of him pressing against her.

One fortunate thing was that he didn’t demand s*x from her. The taut fear that had gripped her loosened with time.

Like someone waiting for a sharp blade to rust and lose its teeth, Kian consistently maintained a lukewarm attitude. In the darkness tonight, as on previous nights, his low, hot breath scattered against her back.

The sound of flesh being gripped and shaken repeatedly filled the room—the sound of m*sturbation.

Though he didn’t suck on or caress her body, she could feel the strength in his arm wrapped around her waist. When his center, occasionally brushing against her b*ttocks, grew burning hot, he would ej*culate onto the hem of her negligee.

Vivianne twisted her shoulders and turned over to face him, their eyes meeting. His black pupils dilated slightly.

“Hold me.”

She couldn’t make him trust her immediately, but she could accelerate the process.

“I want to have s*x.”

* * *

“My ankle hurts.”

“Does it?”

Though his response sounded indifferent, Kian put down the newspaper he was holding on the bedside table and sat on the bed. He immediately began examining her ankle.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Just… my whole leg seems to hurt.”

Kian temporarily removed the shackle. Then he applied oil and massaged her entire leg, starting from the ankle up to the calf.

So he does remove it when I say it hurts.

Perhaps thanks to her diligent fidgeting the night before, her ankle had turned red.

“Um, where’s An?”

“In your room.”

“My room?”

“Yes.”

“Is she alone?”

“Richard is taking good care of her, so don’t worry.”

“But… Richard is busy. An must be anxious. She doesn’t like being alone.”

When Vivianne lowered her gaze dejectedly, Kian looked up from massaging her leg.

“I want to go back to my room. The windows here are too large, and I keep seeing the ocean, which is difficult for me. Right now… I don’t really want to see it.”

She needed to return to her room first. Kian remained silent for a moment, seemingly hesitant.

“I promise I won’t read any fairy tales. And… I’ll keep wearing the shackle. Please let me stay with An. Please?”

Her plea seemed to work, as Kian permitted her to return to her room.

Soon after, the physician visited. He said her ankle was slightly swollen. As expected, after the doctor treated her and left, Kian removed the shackle except during sleep.

After a few days, he began to leave her alone occasionally. During those times, instead of using the shackle, he simply locked the door from outside.

It didn’t matter that she couldn’t go outside. Those brief periods of freedom to move around alone within the room were all she needed for her plan.

* * *

The moonlight streaming through the window was exceptionally white. In the quiet bedroom, Vivianne was staring down at the sleeping man.

There was once a time when simply gazing at him like this brought her happiness. Perhaps she should have kept him as an unattainable presence.

Ironically, he still radiated a piercing brilliance.

Back then, Annabel had given her two things: a compass and a dagger.

The compass was no longer necessary since Kian was always with her now. Besides, Kian was no longer her destination.

She had taken out only the dagger and hidden it separately. Then she waited for Kian to fall asleep. Exhausted, he was sleeping soundly.

Vivianne carefully retrieved the dagger hidden in the gap of the bed. After removing the sheath, she adjusted her grip on the handle, exhaling a trembling breath.

If only then…

If I had stabbed your heart with this knife…

…would Annabel still be alive?

Her sister’s final plea echoed in her ears—that humans could never love mermaids, so she should stab the human’s heart with this knife and return to the sea.

What if he could be different? No, he would definitely be different—because of such futile hope…

Annabel had returned as a taxidermy specimen.

“Kian killed Annabel.”

She still couldn’t believe it. That he was a mermaid slaughterer. That she had yearned for such a man.

“No, I did. I killed Annabel.”

Because of her delusion that if she understood him and tried hard enough, they would eventually find happiness…

Annabel had died.

It was a nightmare. Tears streamed down her cheeks as resentment and self-reproach alternated within her.

He is a monster.

If she didn’t kill him first, she would eventually be devoured alive.

She had to kill him to survive.

Annabel had told her to survive at all costs. But living beside him was no different from being dead.

She would stab Kian, become a mermaid again, and return to the sea. That was the only way to ensure Annabel’s death wasn’t in vain.

Otherwise, wouldn’t Annabel’s fate be too pitiful?

She had to end this with her own hands.

The moment that sharp blade pierced his heart, this nightmare would end too.

“Yes, I must stab him.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she raised both hands holding the dagger into the air. The blade reflected the moonlight, taking on a deep blue glow.

The rapidly descending blade suddenly stopped in mid-air.

The knife tip aimed at his heart wavered aimlessly. Her delicate hands were trembling like aspen leaves.

“What are you doing? Are you not going to stab me?”

Just then, a flat, emotionless voice broke the silence.