Chapter 12

“Die, you bastards!”

“What, wh-what is that!”

“You will never be embraced by the goddess, even in death.”

As she hurled curses at her parents, the Baron and Baroness, their faces turned pale. Spitting at them and throwing a fit, she scratched Melburn’s arm with her free hand. If she was going to be imprisoned anyway, perhaps there was another way to go along with it. However, the anger she had suppressed for so long, never once voicing her opinions, exploded uncontrollably.

“Head Maid! Come in!”

At the Baroness’s shout while tending to her injury, the head maid quickly entered. The curious gazes of the servants standing in the hallway were evident. It was the first time they had seen the usually quiet youngest daughter act so out of control.

“Lock her in the underground room and give her only bread and water until I say otherwise!”

“Yes, Madam.”

The underground room. It was a familiar place, as she had often been confined there as a child. Lyzbel wasn’t particularly afraid; she was just relieved she had managed to wash up after returning from the gathering. 

Soon, she was led down into the dim underground space. As they approached the room, her vision darkened significantly. Still, thanks to the small skylight visible when lying down, it wasn’t excessively dark. She remembered how it had been fun when she was confined there with her siblings in the past.

“Ugh!”

After being thrown into the underground room, Lyzbel lay on the cold floor. Only the echo of Melburn’s footsteps could be heard. Breathing heavily with rage, she burst into laughter. 

Why did the sight of my father’s bleeding head feel so satisfying?

Lyzbel’s hands bore small scars. Chuckling to herself, she pressed her fingers against her eyes. Though the room was dark, the memory of counting stars through the skylight as a child meant she wasn’t scared of the darkness. When she lay down on the mattress, she felt something hard pressing uncomfortably against her back.

It was fortunate she had spent a lot of nights at Eugene’s house. …What would happen now? There were probably two possibilities. One, the Viscount might insist he didn’t care if she wasn’t a virgin and try to marry her. The other, she’d be sent straight to a convent.

If it came to the convent, she hoped it would be near the border. That way, she might have a chance to escape.

“Hah…”

Her cheeks, repeatedly slapped earlier, stung terribly. When she raised her hands to cup both cheeks, she felt the burning heat. Being with Phil until dawn earlier that day now felt like a dream. Had she not met her friends, she would have been sold off without resistance.

A ray of light streamed into the dark room.

Surely, they wouldn’t starve me, would they? If they didn’t feed me and I starved to death, would someone report it?

Perhaps her siblings would. Then there were her friends. Of course, it would be better if she could get out before it came to that.

Staring at the dim ceiling, Lyzbel soon fell asleep. After several hours, she woke to the sound of a lock clicking open. Standing there was her maid, Anne, holding a tray of food and clothes for her.

“Miss!”

“Shh. Your voice will echo.”

Anne nodded, her face full of emotion. Lyzbel quickly changed into the comfortable clothes Anne had brought. Then, while eating the food, she listened to Anne’s account of the situation. The atmosphere in the mansion was reportedly chaotic beyond description.

It seemed the Baron and Baroness had some sort of arrangement with the Viscount. However, since Lyzbel could no longer become his wife, a letter of protest demanding the return of everything exchanged had already arrived. Her parents disgusted her, and so did the Viscount. She wondered why ghosts didn’t take them away.

The rumor that Lyzbel had a secret lover had already spread among the servants, and it was likely to reach elsewhere soon. Hearing this, Lyzbel laughed.

“It won’t take long for the whole Empire to hear about it, will it? My friends will find out too.”

“This isn’t something to laugh about! Master and Madam said they might lock you in the underground room for months.”

“I thought they’d bash my head in and send me straight to the convent.”

“They probably won’t, because they’re worried about public opinion.”

It seemed the marriage with the Viscount had indeed fallen through. Of course, they would need to wait and see. Anne’s secretly brought food filled Lyzbel’s stomach quickly. She couldn’t help but worry that her parents might not give up and would search for another suitor—perhaps some pervert who didn’t mind her not being a virgin.

Feeling uneasy, Lyzbel rubbed her arms. Once their conversation ended, Anne left the room again. After rinsing her mouth and washing her face at the small washstand in the room, she lay face down on the mattress.

Covered with a thin blanket, she fell into a deep sleep. However, that sleep was soon interrupted. The Baron and Baroness took turns visiting her, trying to find out the identity of the mysterious man. Not that knowing would change anything. They pleaded and raged repeatedly throughout the day, and she grew utterly exhausted from the endless questioning.

Despite everything, thoughts of Phil kept surfacing in her mind. 

Should I escape? Should I ask him to run away with me? Could I even do that after telling him I could handle it alone? 

She rubbed her palm. It had only been a day, but her slapped cheek still hurt.

Not just her cheek—her body ached as if she had a fever. With her body trembling from the heat, she lay in bed, rubbing her palm. Soon, as if by instinct, a ring appeared in her hand.

She had thought she could handle it alone, yet here she was, wanting someone’s help. In the past, when she faced violence, her siblings had been there with her. Together, they had endured. But now, she was alone. Perhaps it would have been better if Anne stayed with her.

…No. I don’t want to bring Anne into such a place.

Would he come if I called him? What if he was asleep?

Normally, she wouldn’t have asked for help from anyone, but her vision blurred with tears, and she found herself wanting to reach out.

“Ugh…”

Her breath, heavy with fever, escaped her lips. The thin bedding barely kept her warm, and she trembled. At least it wasn’t winter, she thought with relief. Clutching the magical artifact tightly, she whispered, “Phil,” and a blue light began to glow. That was the last thing she saw before her heavy eyelids closed.

Her head felt foggy. She wasn’t asleep, but the fever left her too weak to open her eyes. The underground room, cold and damp, remained unchanged. Hugging herself as she shivered from the fever, her mind began to blur.

A sliver of moonlight fell through the skylight, as if offering her comfort. Then, she felt a hand gently touch her swollen cheek. 

Was this a dream? 

She needed to open her eyes to know, but her fevered body refused to comply.

“Ah… ugh…”

The touch was soft and filled with concern. It was a tenderness she could never expect from her parents, and she wanted more of it. Trembling, she leaned closer to the hand, which gently patted her in return.

“Liz…”

“Ah…”

Was it because she was in pain? Hearing the voice she longed for brought her immense joy. Watching her siblings leave home and finally find happiness had always made her envious. 

Would I ever find someone like that? Someone who, though not family, would love me and make me happy. Could I ever escape this house?

Soon, cool fingers alternated between her cheeks. She wanted to open her eyes, but she lacked the strength. Shivering from the fever, she clung to the hand, unwilling to let go.

“Ah… please…”

“….”

She had always hidden her emotions, feeling that showing them meant losing. But now, as the hand gently caressed her cheeks, she let everything pour out. At that moment, she felt her cold body slightly warm.