She could forget the fact that their parents had starved the sisters from the age of five under the pretext of keeping their waists slim; that Hailla had survived thanks to the money made from selling her sister; and her own disgust at still loving her sister despite it all.

It felt like salvation.

“If Rethe dies, we can be together forever.”

Hailla didn’t respond to his words. Everything felt peaceful. It didn’t matter what he said — she felt safe. Her soft body, warmed in the man’s arms, nestled deeper against him.

“I like you.”

Even those words, no matter who spoke them, held little significance. Beyond her tender voice, the sound of crying echoed faintly into the night.

—

Neither of them slept a wink, and they watched the sun rise together. Wrapped in Lian’s outer coat, Hailla watched the dawn break, slowly opening her eyes as though waking from a pleasant dream and preparing to face reality again.

She wondered how Lian’s leg had healed so quickly, but dismissed the thought, preoccupied with worry for Rethe. She was already feeling exhausted and uncertain about how her sister would react.

“Just wait outside for a bit. Wait until I tell you it’s OK to come in, OK?”

Not wanting Lian to get caught up in anything, Hailla left him at the door and stepped into the house first. She remembered to take a deep breath. The old door creaked ominously as she pushed it open. Wearing her usual bright expression, she entered, but something felt wrong.

The kitchen was a mess, cluttered with things, and a musty smell hung in the air. Rethe’s door was open.

“Unni!”

It came out as a scream. There was no reply. Had someone come by while she was out? Someone had come by while she was home alone.

‘I shouldn’t have left her alone!’

Her jaw began to tremble. What if something had happened to Rethe while she was away?

Tears welled up as Hailla kept calling her sister’s name. Should she call Lian from outside? Her thoughts were in disarray. Suddenly, she heard a rustling sound coming from under the kitchen table. Holding her breath, she approached cautiously.

“Unni.”

It was Rethe. She was lying face down, clutching something tightly in her hand. Hailla, breathing heavily, crouched down beside her. Her outstretched hands, which she had used to check if her sister was still alive, were covered in tiny scratches.

“Unni, Unni, Unni…”

Her sister’s skin was cold to the touch. Hailla shook her hard. After several attempts, Rethe’s pale face moved slightly. She was alive.

“Ah, ah, Unni…”

“…”

Lethe didn’t speak. As Hailla gently checked her condition, she noticed that her sister’s undergarments were damp. There were yellowish stains on her white nightgown — urine. Relieved that it wasn’t worse, Hailla slipped her arms under Rethe to help lift her up. She wanted to take her to the bathroom before Lian saw anything.

Just then, something slowly came into view in Rethe’s hand.

“Why did you come back?”

It was the only kitchen knife they owned — dull and old.

“Unni.”

“You were supposed to run away with him. So why?”

“No, Unni, it’s not like that. It’s really not.”

Seeing the knife in her sister’s hand, Hailla stammered, trying to explain. She was used to Rethe’s outbursts, but this—this look, coupled with the fact that she was holding a weapon—was something she had never witnessed before.

Desperately trying to calm her down and explain the situation, Hailla found that Rethe’s expression remained shattered, as if something inside her had broken.

“You weren’t planning to come back at all. You got sick of me, you were disgusted by how I’m slowly rotting away and you were tired of it all…”

“I told you, I just went to find some Tabael. Lian and I just—’

Rethe’s bony hand shoved Hailla’s shoulder violently. Hearing Lian’s name had clearly triggered her. She mumbled something under her breath, then clenched her hand tightly. The trembling travelled down to the knife, causing the dull blade to flash dangerously.

Tears shimmered in Hailla’s eyes as she looked down at her sister’s pale face.

“Aaah!”

From a mouth accustomed to speaking in dull, gentle tones came a sharp, ripping scream. Hailla leapt forward and grabbed her sister’s arm just as Rethe tried to plunge the knife into her own throat. Despite her frailty, Rethe pushed her away with alarming strength and raised the knife to her neck again. The blade drew a bright drop of blood.

“Please—please! Unni, please…”

Rethe didn’t respond. She slapped Hailla’s cheek and pushed her away, furious that her sister was interfering. Hailla clung on persistently, even when the blade cut her hand. She didn’t let go. Then, perhaps unintentionally, Rethe hit Hailla on the head with the flat of the knife. The blow was forceful.

With a dull thud, Hailla’s frail body collapsed backwards. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze except Hailla’s body, which appeared to move independently. She fell to the floor, striking the hardwood with her face. The rough, warped floorboards tore into her skin. Blood trickled from her forehead.

“… Hailla.”

A heavy silence followed. Rethe dropped the knife and crawled towards Hailla. Her face was expressionless. She gently shook her sister’s limp body, but there was no response.

At that moment, the front door creaked open.

A man with an expressionless face stood there.

Lian’s eyes gleamed with a cold light.

Suddenly, the sound of a bird taking flight could be heard clearly from beyond the window.

—

“What dedication!”

A giggle echoed from the temple’s deepest chamber. This was a room that was unknown even to the most faithful of worshippers. Hailla was lying on the bed in the centre of the room, being cared for by Lian. She had been barely conscious and moaning with fever for three days, and Lian had cared for her with obsessive devotion. Since the priest assured him that her life was not in danger, Lian had seemed almost cheerful.

Verdian stood in the doorway and watched Lian with amusement. Intending to get a closer look at Hailla, he took a step towards them. However, Lian paid him no attention, continuing to gently wipe Hailla’s feverish forehead with a damp cloth. Beside her sat a man who looked like he had never served anyone in his life before, smiling tenderly.

“She’s beautiful.”

Whispering this, he brushed her damp golden hair behind her ear. His face was slightly flushed as he kissed her cheek. Whenever she whimpered, he patted her softly and murmured soothing nonsense.

Faint red marks bloomed on Hailla’s pale neck like watercolour stains — proof of the kisses and bites he had given her under the guise of caring for her. Lian’s fingers toyed affectionately with the marks.

Verdian silently observed Lian’s lovesick behaviour, then shifted his gaze to Hailla’s face. Though she had thinned from days of illness, she was striking to look at, with her platinum-blonde hair, pale skin, and delicate features neatly arranged. If she trimmed her heavy fringe, she might even escape her unfortunate fate based on her looks alone.

Still, she wasn’t quite beautiful enough to drive someone mad.

To Verdian, the woman was nothing more than a soft, living object to be used to satisfy his desires. If she had been pretty, he might have treated her a little better, but that would have been akin to the affection one has for a well-trained dog. Truthfully, all humans were the same to him. They were worthwhile only if they brought him pleasure or if he could savour the thrill of taking their lives as they gasped for their last breaths.

Lian — the one person Verdian called a true friend — had shared a similar temperament since childhood. Cruel, cold and twisted.

Verdian made a low noise in his throat as he glanced between Lian and Hailla, then slumped into a nearby chair. Whatever had happened, Lian had clearly changed. And in changing, he’d become less amusing. Verdian tapped the armrest of the chair and kept a steady eye on Lian.

“Mm… no…”

“There, there, it’s okay. It’s me. That’s right…”

Even in her unconscious state, Hailla would occasionally twist away from Lian’s touch, as if his fussing irritated her. Her whimpering voice sounded thick and wet. Verdian expected Lian to pin her down and silence her out of annoyance.

Instead, though, he whispered sweet words and comforted her. He told her that their problems would disappear if they lived alone, that he would protect her and that everything would be all right — empty words, light as clouds.

Watching them, Verdian finally realised that this wasn’t just a game for Lian. It wasn’t like the times he played with his ‘toys’.

“You’ve completely lost it.”

Yes — Lian was truly, utterly obsessed with this woman.

From the look on his face as he looked at Hailla, Verdian could see it clearly: madness, fully bloomed.

Whenever the woman whimpered in his arms, Lian would soothe her with gentle words. However, if she called out for her sister instead, he would react as though consumed by obsession. He would repeat the same words over and over again, as though driven by a compulsion.

Each phrase was carefully chosen to manipulate her and alter her thinking. He asked her if she knew just how much Rethe despised her, murmuring that Rethe was the only person who cared about her. This was not something one should say to a drugged, barely conscious woman.

“A little.”

Lian replied faintly, smiling at Verdian’s remark. From that moment on, Verdian lost interest in Hailla. It was clear that she wasn’t going to bring any amusement to his life. Lian, completely absorbed in her romance, wouldn’t provide much entertainment either — for now, at least.

“His Majesty the Emperor seems rather curious as to when you’ll finally keep your promise.”

Lian had always been shameless when it came to the Emperor. When he first left his ducal household, he demanded money and manpower. Now, he had essentially claimed ownership of the temple and its healers, demanding that they treat Hailla as if it were his right.

No one knew how long the Emperor would tolerate Lian’s arrogance. Yet regarding the so-called ‘promise’ to the Emperor, Lian acted as if he had no intention of honouring it anytime soon.