“I was scared that if I let you go, you’d forget all about me and leave for good. I loved being with you so much that I neglected my sister.”

The words she’d always whispered – that she lived for her sister and loved Rethe the most – were lies. Sweet, sugar-coated lies wrapped around cold truths. They were no different to the empty claim that a god loves everyone equally. There was no way Rethe hadn’t known.

So it really was her fault that her sister had ended up that way.

The weight of her guilt piled endlessly onto her shoulders. Maybe this was fate — a pendulum swinging down. Hailla took a deep breath. There was something she had to say. It was time to put an end to it all and bring closure to something that had dragged on for too long.

Suspended between despair and resolve, she parted her lips and called his name.

“Lian.”

But there was no reply.

Just as she was about to say, ‘I think it’s time we ended this’, a firm hand covered her mouth. His expression was troubled. He stared down at her, muffling her words, before clenching his jaw. The tension in his jaw betrayed his frustration. After a brief sigh, he lowered his hand.

“You’re not well right now.”

“I’m completely clear-headed.”

“You’ve been ill for three days and only regained consciousness less than an hour ago. Don’t force yourself.”

He spoke as though addressing a delirious patient. By taking that stance, Lian prevented Hailla from saying any more. He gave her no opportunity to protest.

He brought over a bitter, medicated drink and made her swallow it despite her reluctance. Then he lay her down and stayed by her side until she fell asleep. This was an unusual display of assertiveness for him. Yet he still sat beside her, reading a book and silently warning her not to speak again.

Hailla tried to formulate hundreds of sentences in her mind, working out how to express what she needed to say, but she gave up. She realised that she was in no position to make any declarations. If she was going to end things, she needed to do so gently and give Lian time to process it. Just as she had caused Rethe pain through selfishness, she couldn’t make the same mistake with Lian.

“I acted too rashly… I was still shaken up because of my sister…”

Blaming herself quietly, she slowly closed her eyes. She could hear the sound of pages turning. He was still beside her. Still there. He would probably stay until she woke up again. Despite knowing that their relationship had to end, she felt comforted by his presence — and hated herself for it.

As she tried to guess how many more days he would stay by her side, her fingers trembled with gratitude. She tried not to show it, but Lian noticed anyway. Hailla kept her eyes shut, and Lian soon returned his gaze to the book.

The medication quickly dulled her mind. Growing sleepier by the minute, she drifted off within thirty minutes, her breathing soft and uneven.

Tak.

The sound of a book closing echoed in the room. Unlike usual, Lian didn’t stare at Hailla’s sleeping face for hours on end. Instead, he stared blankly at the book’s cover, then stood up.

He placed the book on the seat where he had been sitting and approached the bed. Her hair, still slightly damp with sweat, clung to her forehead.

With practised hands, he brushed it aside. His fingers slid from her forehead to her cheek, then to her lips, and finally to her chin before resting on her throat. He paused there for several seconds. Then he gently closed his hand around her slender neck.

She was so delicate that he could support her entire nape with one hand.

If he applied even the slightest pressure, her life would end in an instant.

He gauged exactly how much force it would take to kill her, then abruptly flinched and let go. It had been a dangerous moment, even by his own standards.

“Why do you always do things I never expect?”

He exhaled softly, sitting neatly below her with his hands folded politely on the edge of the bed.

“I almost made a mistake.”

His tone was like that of a parent scolding a troublesome child. He flexed the hand that had been around her neck, clenching and releasing it, but the movement was devoid of emotion.

“… Because of that woman…”

“You dare choose that insect over me?”

Lian furrowed his brows, casting a dark shadow over his face, and stared intently at Hailla. Just days ago, she had confessed her feelings for him, wrapping her arms around him in a tender embrace. And now she wanted to end it all with such finality? The audacity was infuriating.

He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. Even in her half-conscious state, she leaned into his touch as if it were second nature, nestling her face into his palm and breathing in his scent. A soft, docile sound slipped from her lips.

“Mm…”

“You’re only this lovely when you’re quiet. Stop saying foolish things.”

With that, he abruptly pulled his hand away and lightly flicked her nose. She winced, her nose crinkling slightly in an unconscious response. After watching her for a moment to confirm that she was behaving as usual, Lian stood up and left the room.

There was no need to test his patience any further.

—

“When do you plan to return to the young lady?”

A woman’s unusually deep voice floated from behind. Lian was seated in the viewing box of a grand, antique-style theatre, lazily drumming his fingers against the armrest. He was alone on the long sofa in the private box.

“You left her in an unfamiliar place, likely terrified… Your taste for cruelty hasn’t changed, has it?”

The teasing lilt in her voice was light as a feather. Lian curled the corners of his mouth into a smile as he gazed at the stage.

“Not a comment I expected to hear from you.”

As he spoke, a grotesque, animal-like scream rang out. On stage, a man was tied down and being dissected; his body was mangled beyond recognition. The flesh around his gagged mouth had even been torn, exposing his teeth.

Yet the audience remained composed, sipping wine and chatting amongst themselves. Those in the upper tiers, such as Lian, leaned over the marble railings and peered through gilded opera glasses to see the grisly details more clearly. Some even snickered and shouted at the performer to hurry up and remove the man’s p*nis.

Lian, too, wore a face of detached boredom, unaffected by the screams.

“A businessman doesn’t have time for hobbies. I just make money by selling rubbish.”

“Old Ludwig would love to hear that.”

She was referring to High Priest Ludwig. At the mention of his name, Miar’s cheek twitched slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. With a small laugh, the woman stepped forward and placed a hand on the railing. The view below was clear. As she leaned forward, the deep red fabric of her skirt draped over her curving hips. It was a colour forbidden to proper clerics.

Then again, this woman, who consumed slaughter for entertainment, clearly operated on a different level to typical clergy. It was healthier for the mind to view her that way.

Miar, a noble-born priestess, was notorious for diving headfirst into anything profitable. She pursued wealth regardless of morality or doctrine — if it promised riches, she would do it and do it well. Every noble affiliated with the temple knew this.

“So, are you not going to tell me why you left that young lady alone for three whole days?”

Miar asked with a coy smile. Another grotesque cry echoed in the background as they continued their conversation.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh, what a convincing excuse.”

Lian remained silent, recognising the dogged nature of Miar’s personality. Once she latched on to something, she never let go — everyone, even the High Priest, had given up trying to resist her stubbornness. Lian answered with an annoyed expression.

“I almost killed her.”

“The girl you nursed for days?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow… That’s intense.”

Mia swallowed her reaction and watched him subtly. Then, easing herself into the seat beside him, she continued softly, her tone serious.

“Why?”

“She told me she wanted to break up.”

“I see. That makes sense, but it’s not like you. You seemed to cherish her. You’ve never been the impulsive type.”

Lian’s face tightened slightly. Miar’s tone was irritating; it was as if she knew everything about him. However, he couldn’t refute her. After all, he had almost done something that even the kind of people he despised would do. Losing control and ruining everything in a moment of emotion was the mistake of a fool.

“Exactly.”

If her attempt to leave him had driven him mad, the first step was to ensure that she couldn’t leave again. In fact, Lian had spent quite some time trying to remove Rethe from Hailla’s side. He had made allies, created situations and steadily moved things forward step by step.

If all went according to plan, Rethe — the nuisance — would be gone in just a few months. Lian was already regretting how close he’d come to ruining everything on a whim.

“She’s a good girl. If I remove the root cause, she’ll have no reason to leave. I was just too impatient.”

The man took a refined sip of warm tea, his expression visibly gentler. Having observed Lian for a long time, Miar rested her chin on her hand and reflected that he had softened — at least a little — because of Hailla.

Indeed, Hailla had changed something in Lian that had once been askew.

“Well, I figured you’d at least cut off an arm or a leg. Bit surprising, honestly.”

As we were taught.

Lian had learnt the noble way better than anyone: take what you want with ruthless cunning. That was the virtue of their kind — vicious, calculating and unyielding.