She screamed at the top of her lungs. After the brief scream, all the strength drained from her body. As she collapsed onto the cold floor, her entire body was scraped by large and small stones. New wounds were carved over the scars already covering her.

Perhaps he hadn’t expected Rochelle to scream, or maybe he simply couldn’t believe a captive would dare to raise her voice at him. John, looking flustered, stood up and stepped back, then glared at Rochelle with a hardened expression.

“…Everyone who’s ever been near you has lost their life, you wretched woman.”

“…”

“The servants you treated like your own hands and feet, your nanny who pathetically begged for her life until the end, even Bill, the tavern owner who took you in for a while. They all died because of you. So, do you feel even a shred of guilt?”

Taunting her, he let out a low laugh.

“You killed them. Everyone who stayed by your side—Lady Rochelle Kotov, the noble—killed them all.”

Her eyes reddened. Not wanting to lose to him, Rochelle bit her lip hard and lifted her head to stare into space.

“I… I killed them?”

“That’s right, you and the other nobles—”

“Don’t make me laugh. It was you who drove those commoners to their deaths. You ignorant people who staged a coup just because you couldn’t stand living under nobles.”

“…”

“And do you realize? Even now, you’re still working under Ivan, like a slave with no will of your own. How is your life any different now than it was back then?”

“You b*tch!”

With his arm raised, John strode toward Rochelle. Reflexively, she squeezed her eyes shut and curled up. But the blow she expected never came.

“…”

Unable to say anything, John’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Breathing heavily, he turned his head away.

“A woman like you should have been skinned alive and impaled. Don’t think that traitor Yevgeny will be able to protect you forever.”

“…”

“The day Sir Ivan takes office, that bastard’s illegitimate head will roll on the floor as well.”

‘Ah, Yevgeny.’

Rochelle was startled by the sudden mention of his name, her breath catching in her chest. Where could he be now? Did he know the state of her battered body and soul?

***

This was the inspection room. Rochelle had lost count of how many days she’d been locked up in this damp, dark, narrow underground cell.

Perhaps worried she might try to take her own life, they sent people in shifts to watch her behind the bars. Sometimes, they would suddenly force her mouth open to check. They seemed anxious she might try to poison herself, or swallow a stone to harm herself.

Unfortunately, Rochelle had neither the courage nor the reason to do so.

Most of the revolutionaries despised Rochelle, but thankfully, none of them came close to speak or used violence, unlike John on the first day.

Some of them even seemed to pity her a little.

One old man, possibly going through his old age and unusually sentimental, would quietly read a book in the corner, and every so often would carefully offer it to Rochelle.

“Would you like to read?”

“…”

Rochelle didn’t answer. To be precise, she didn’t have the energy left to reply. She hadn’t even had a sip of water, and was suffering from severe thirst and hunger. When she didn’t respond, the old man would sigh, slowly get up, and share his ration of water with her.

It felt like torture by hope.

Showing her a glimpse of hope for life, only to snatch it away miserably.

When the old man left, it would be John’s turn again. Just as she was starting to relax from the faint warmth the old man had given her, violence would rain down on her face without fail.

“Don’t you resent everything?”

As she sat with her eyes closed, smiling blankly, the old man gently asked, closing the lid of his canteen.

Rochelle didn’t answer. Since that day, she had acted as if she’d lost the ability to speak. The old man sighed, returned to his seat, and quietly tucked his book back into his coat.

“Young lady, I’m sorry, but life can’t always be an uphill climb. There’s only so much happiness to go around, so if someone enjoys it, someone else must fall into ruin.”

“Nonsense.”

Rochelle bit her lip and muttered slowly. Her trembling voice was laced with anger.

“You’re just spouting nonsense.”

“…”

“Do you really think you’ll go to heaven? No, you won’t. You’re nothing but a hypocrite.”

She glared at the book in the old man’s hands. He calmly smiled as he tucked the tattered Bible deep into his coat.

Rochelle, who had been glaring at the man with contempt, suddenly softened her expression and crawled toward his knees, almost pleading.

“Yev—Yevgeny. Where is he now?”

“…”

“What is he doing?”

“…”

“Is he making any effort to get me out of this hell?”

“Young lady, this isn’t hell. Hell is where those who harm others and those without faith fall forever.”

“…You’re just a senile old man obsessed with religion.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rochelle fell silent, overcome with a sense of futility. Talking to this man, who smiled so kindly, felt like shouting at a transparent wall.

She almost preferred dealing with John, with whom she couldn’t communicate at all. At least then, she could just pour out her anger.

She clenched her fist tightly, pain shooting from her fingertips as if they were being torn apart. Rochelle gritted her teeth, swallowing a groan. The bandages Yevgeny had so carefully wrapped around her fingers were starting to unravel.

***

The door opened and a familiar man entered—John. Rochelle sat up straight, glaring at her enemy. Bracing herself for a punch at any moment, she tensed, but he looked strangely anxious, his face even paler than usual.

Tensing as well, Rochelle narrowed her eyes. Behind him, several strong men entered the cell with a loud clatter. They walked straight to Rochelle and forced her to her feet.

Startled by the sudden situation, Rochelle could barely breathe. Her chest, all skin and bone, rose and fell irregularly. The men, unconcerned about her condition, dragged her outside. Her weakened legs scraped loudly against the stone floor.

From her knees to her calves and thighs, her entire lower body was numb from being dragged. Blood flowed from new wounds layered over old ones, but she felt no pain. Compared to John’s punches, this was like a mosquito bite.

Then they covered Rochelle’s head with a black cloth.

“…”

Rochelle mustered the last of her strength and opened her eyes wide. She tried to show some sign of defiance, but her exhausted body couldn’t endure it, and the world went dark.

Her eyes slowly closed. She tried desperately to stay conscious, but Rochelle couldn’t overcome it.

***

“…”

“Rochelle Kotov.”

Suddenly, her vision brightened. Rochelle blinked, taking deep, slow breaths. The windowless room was lit up by all kinds of gold and jewels. The ceiling was covered with paintings, and as her gaze followed the columns down, she saw brightly colored patterns everywhere.

“Rochelle Kotov.”

Again, a low, deep voice echoed in front of her.

Tilting her head, Rochelle absentmindedly looked toward the sound. In front of her sat a familiar man, staring straight at her.

Wearing a black beret and a coat with the collar stiffly raised, the man sat nonchalantly with one leg crossed, a mischievous smile on his lips.

‘…Ivan, so you finally came.’

“You’ve come to kill me, haven’t you?”