Chapter 2.2

“It’s okay, Miss.” 

Sara quickly reassured her.  

“Did they bother you much?”  

“No. When they started accusing me, I shouted back. I asked why they were looking for their dead daughter with me. They ran away immediately.”  

Lucia silently dug at the groove in the floor with the toe of her shoe.  

“I never thought my selfishness would cause trouble for so many people. Employees from Father’s shop and the servants at home lost their jobs because of me…”  

“That’s not true.” 

Sara said, holding Lucia’s hand.  

“When I thought about it, there wasn’t a single one of us who hadn’t received your help. That made me feel even more ashamed—for always turning a blind eye to what you were going through.”  

Sara’s voice trembled, and tears streamed down her face as she covered it with her hands.  

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”  

After Sara composed herself, Lucia asked her about the outside world as if nothing had happened. They chatted for a long time until it was time for Sara to leave.  

“I’ll go for now, but I’ll come back next time.”  

As Sara hesitated before stepping out of the room, she turned back.  

“…I always asked why you didn’t leave. That was the wrong question. The blame lies with those who forced you to leave in the first place.”  

With those words, Sara stepped outside.  

***

Months passed, and Lucia began freely wandering around the bookstore. As Sara had predicted, her family had stopped searching for her, and the fire incident had become a stale topic of conversation.  

That evening, Mr. Saper had left for the day, and Lucia was reading a book about rotational force, having hit a roadblock while creating her latest machine.  

As she scanned the bookshelf, the bell attached to the door jingled.  

“We’re closed today. Please come back tomorr—”  

Lucia turned to speak to the visitor but froze in place.  

Her parents stood at the door.  

Marisa’s face twisted into a poisonous smile.  

“It’s been a while, Lucia.”  

***

Cedro dragged the screaming Lucia out with his iron grip and tossed her into a dark, narrow alley reeking of sewage.  

Behind her was a dead-end. No weapons, no one to help her.  

Lucia, sprawled on the ground, pressed against the damp, slippery wall to stand.  

Marisa approached her.  

Then slapped her across the face with all her strength.  

Lucia lost her balance, hitting the wall before collapsing to the ground. Heat spread from her cheek to the rest of her body.  

Had I grown this weak after just a few months without being hit?  

She thought she’d built up some resistance after over ten years of beatings.  

“How could you do this to us?” 

Marisa asked, her voice trembling.  

It was the first time Lucia had seen her mother lose her usual cold, composed demeanor.  

Lucia inhaled deeply as she stood up.  

“I thought we hated each other equally. But it turns out I hated you less. I just balanced things out.”  

Marisa slapped her again. This time, Lucia didn’t stagger.  

“It’s all thanks to you. You taught me to abandon false hope.”  

Marisa gritted her teeth and swung her arm again.  

Lucia, knocked to the ground once more, shut her eyes tightly. Her ears rang, and dizziness set in.  

“People who’ve lost everything need someone to take their anger out on. Go ahead, hit me until you feel better. I’ll think of it as a farewell gift.”  

Her parents looked like they had aged rapidly.  

Her father, after his time in prison, had turned gray-haired and frail like an old man.  

Her mother, who had once prided herself on her youthful beauty, now looked pale, thin, and pitiful.  

They didn’t have weapons. Even if they both attacked her, they wouldn’t kill her…  

Even if something broke, she could crawl back to the bookstore, and Mr. Saper would help her.  

“You’re right. We lost everything because of you—our home, our money, our honor.”  

Marisa’s voice suddenly became calm.  

“But fortunately, there’s still one thing we can salvage.”  

She twisted her lips into a cold smile.  

“You’ve heard the rumors about the crazy daughter of the Bianchi family who ran away with her lover after setting the house on fire, haven’t you?  

But what if that wasn’t the case?  

What if you were kidnapped by thugs who wanted ransom money?  

And when the Bianchi family couldn’t pay, they set the house on fire and killed you?  

Wouldn’t a daughter who died a virgin garner more sympathy than a woman who eloped with a man?”  

Marisa grabbed Lucia’s face.  

“I’ll leave your face untouched for the funeral.”  

Cedro and Marisa stepped back.  

Behind them, four former servants appeared.  

The man in the center trembled as he whispered in a broken voice.  

“Please forgive me, Miss.”  

Lucia backed away, even though she knew there was nowhere to go.  

Someone clamped a hand over her mouth.  

***

The smell of blood.  

Every breath felt like being stabbed by needles, the pain consuming her body.  

Was she even breathing?  

She didn’t know anymore.  

Raindrops, sharp as needles, started to fall.  

Please, let this rain dissolve my body…  

Then the pain will disappear too.  

At that moment, hands lifted her up.  

Urgent, delicate touches brushed against her wounds.  

The world, which had paused briefly, began moving again.  

‘Master, please save our Miss.’  

‘She’s going to die anyway. Take her away. You can’t even afford treatment.’  

The world paused again.  

I’m dizzy.  

‘I’ll take her.’  

A familiar voice hovered nearby.  

Soft fabric wrapped around her, and she was lifted into the air.  

Guided by those hands, she floated endlessly through the void.  

The world turned dark again.  

***

Lucia opened her eyes to the sound of running water.  

A dull pain consumed her entire body.  

With great effort, she managed to open her tightly shut eyes, revealing a middle-aged woman holding a damp cloth, looking down at her.  

“You’ve awakened. I’ll call the physician.”  

The woman covered Lucia with a blanket before leaving the room.  

Left alone, Lucia stared at the crimson silk canopy above the bed.  

Memories crashed over her like a tidal wave.  

Lucia ignored her quickening pulse and took shallow breaths to avoid the pain in her chest.  

She was surprised at her own ability to survive.  

‘My brother always called me a cockroach. Turns out he wasn’t wrong.’  

Lucia closed her eyes, trying to escape the memories that kept surfacing.  

***

It turned out she had woken up after a week.  

The physician insisted on complete rest, cutting her off from news of the outside world.  

That frightened her even more.  

What had happened that was so shocking they thought she couldn’t handle it?  

Above all, she worried about Mr. Saper.  

Her parents knew Mr. Saper had hidden her, so they wouldn’t leave him alone.  

They had tried to kill their own daughter; what might they have done to him?  

However, the woman caring for her refused to say where she was or how she had ended up there, and Lucia didn’t ask.  

The way the woman looked at her, shaking her head occasionally, made it clear she harbored unexplained hostility toward Lucia.  

Two more weeks passed after Lucia regained consciousness.  

Her broken bones began to heal, and the sharp pain that struck with every movement lessened.  

Lucia could walk around the bedroom and sit for hours.  

When her head hurt, she stared out the window at the endless park below, slowly regaining her health.  

One day, the nurse informed her that His Majesty the Emperor had summoned her.  

Lucia wasn’t surprised. From the moment she first saw the crudely arranged room, she had guessed that this was the Imperial Palace

It was also because of the faint voice that had surfaced in her mind during her hazy consciousness.

She descended to the first floor and arrived at the Emperor’s study. Aristide was seated behind his desk, twirling a fountain pen between his fingers.  

Lucia bowed respectfully and spoke while keeping her head lowered.  

“Thank you for granting your grace to someone as insignificant as me. I owe you a debt I can never repay in my lifetime, Your Majesty.”  

“Stand upright.”  

He glanced at Lucia briefly and leaned deeply against the back of his chair. Then, gazing out the window, he began to speak.  

“I summoned you because I heard you’ve recovered. If I’d known you’d be like this, I would have waited longer.”  

“This is already much better.”  

Lucia waited for Aristide to speak, but he continued to stare out the window in silence.  

“Thank you again for saving my life.”

She said, breaking the stillness.  

“It was almost too late. There was a commotion outside the hospital with people demanding treatment, so I went to see what was happening—and there you were.”  

Aristide tapped the desk with his fountain pen, still not turning his head. The unfamiliar seriousness of his demeanor created a tense, sticky atmosphere.  

“Anyway, you must have many questions. Ask away.”  

As soon as she was given permission, Lucia asked urgently.  

“Is Mr. Saper all right?”  

Aristide raised an eyebrow.  

“Why? Did you hear something?”  

“Does that mean something really happened to him?”  

“You’re supposed to be resting, so why bring this up—”  

He stopped mid-sentence, noticing the devastated expression on Lucia’s face.