“Else.”
It was a heavy hum. Else turned her head away, not wanting to hear it. She handed over the cards she had left on the table one by one. They were the cards she had prepared before taking out her shoes. Since she couldn’t speak, she thought she had to convey it somehow. This tiring relationship. The feelings she had mistaken for love, but could never be love, were nothing more than obsession, a mistake caused by her arrogance. She wanted to fix that.
'I want to stop.'
Sibyl read the card. Else looked at him with calm eyes. His face, heated by fever, was distorted. It seemed like it would be refreshing to return the wound in this way... Even looking at the face that was crumpled with all his might, she did not feel relieved.
'My heart has always been hell since I loved you.'
Sibyl's hands trembled as she read the cards written one line at a time. He crumpled the cards after reading the last line written on them. 'I don't love you anymore. In fact, I don't think I ever loved you.'
Alexander shouted in surprise. Sybil was holding the shoes with his hands that were charred by the fire. The rain was falling hard and pounding on him. Alexander looked down at his hands, which were obviously seriously injured. They were not wounds from being hit or stabbed, but from being burned.
“How did this happen?”
There was certainly no sound from the bedroom. There was no sound of furniture breaking, including screams. What on earth could have happened...? Alexander followed Sybil, who was walking without expression. He tried to accept what was in his hand, but he just walked silently as if he didn’t even see Alexander.
"Your Majesty."
“Let’s go back now.”
It was a monotonous voice. Alexander couldn't say anything more because of the heavy expression on his face. He thought about asking Jules about the situation, but he thought that Jules wouldn't know the details right away. They were the only two in the bedroom.
Alexander stopped walking and looked at the King's back. The thin man looked as if he was about to succumb to the rain. His steps were like that. His body, longer and heavier than others, was still the same, but his outline was haggard and terribly twisted.
Suddenly, the King stopped walking. One of the shoes he was holding fell to the floor. Alexander was surprised and approached him to speak. At that moment, the King’s knees collapsed.
"Your Majesty!"
The palace was in an uproar when the King lost consciousness on his way back from the villa. All the court doctors rushed to the bedroom, and the King's personal guards also guarded the bedroom in a tense state. The King suffered from a severe fever. Once lost, consciousness did not easily return, and the fever did not go down easily. The doctor who entered the bedroom immediately made a fever-reducing medicine and poured it into the unconscious King's mouth, and wiped his body with a cold towel.
Alexander bit his lip as he watched the doctors clinging to the King's treatment with a solemn face. Not only was his face pale, but his hands... The hands that held the charred shoes. His hands, which probably would not return to their former long and graceful appearance, were also a problem. How on earth...
“How is it?”
“Which one?”
The doctor asked back. Hands and heat. It was a face that asked which one was being asked.
"Entire."
“You wouldn’t expect that. His Majesty has been treated for burns, but his skin is already badly damaged, so there will be scars. And the fever... I think we’ll have to wait and see a little longer.”
The doctor answered monotonously. He did not say that the King was gradually showing signs of improvement or that he had overcome a crisis.
It was a heavy hum. Else turned her head away, not wanting to hear it. She handed over the cards she had left on the table one by one. They were the cards she had prepared before taking out her shoes. Since she couldn’t speak, she thought she had to convey it somehow. This tiring relationship. The feelings she had mistaken for love, but could never be love, were nothing more than obsession, a mistake caused by her arrogance. She wanted to fix that.
'I want to stop.'
Sibyl read the card. Else looked at him with calm eyes. His face, heated by fever, was distorted. It seemed like it would be refreshing to return the wound in this way... Even looking at the face that was crumpled with all his might, she did not feel relieved.
'My heart has always been hell since I loved you.'
Sibyl's hands trembled as she read the cards written one line at a time. He crumpled the cards after reading the last line written on them. 'I don't love you anymore. In fact, I don't think I ever loved you.'
He raised his head. Else looked at his angry face. The fierceness in his eyes did not last long. His gaze was fixed on the shoes being eaten away by the flames.
“There’s no need to do this. To this extent...”
His stiff face became clouded, and his voice began to tremble. He closed his lips to hide his wet voice. He crumpled up the card and stared at Else for a moment before pulling out her shoes from the stove. He pulled out one shoe that was half-burned and on fire. The other was stuck in the burning woodpile, so he had to remove the pile.
Just as Else, surprised, was about to tell him to stop, the hand that had been fearlessly chopping through the firewood pulled out a shoe. However, the shoe was already on fire and burning. She tried to tell him to stop, but no sound came out.
Sibyl put out the fire on her shoe with his bare hands. His skin was burned by the flames as he did so. Not only was his skin cut, but it was also certain that it would become inflamed and tangled. Else looked at him with eyes that saw something foolish.
Sibyl held the charred shoes to his chest, just as Else had done in the past. Else’s gaze fell on the hand holding the shoes. Hia eyes were distorted. They were pitiful and foolish. Far from being pitiful, they were just angry. The shoes were a sign of Else’s estrangement from him.
Proof that she no longer wanted to continue this messy and shabby relationship. A declaration that her love was over. The shoes were her feelings for him. The moment she threw them into the flames, he became nothing to Else. But, but what did she say...
Nothing would change even if he foolishly took it out again. Whether he waited for her in the rain or died of a fever, it was no longer her concern. On the contrary, everything he did to change her mind was abominable and repulsive.
Else glared at him with boiling eyes. She slapped the hand holding the shoe hard. The burned hand gave out, and the shoe fell to the floor. Sibyl picked it up again and bent down. Else stomped on the hand holding the shoe.
The hand, whose flesh was red and flaky and began to swell, was crushed under her feet. She trampled on his fingers without mercy, as if trying to cut them off. Not a single groan escaped his lips. He simply endured silently...
'I'm bored.'
I'm sick of you. Your love is suffocating.
“There’s no need to do this. To this extent...”
His stiff face became clouded, and his voice began to tremble. He closed his lips to hide his wet voice. He crumpled up the card and stared at Else for a moment before pulling out her shoes from the stove. He pulled out one shoe that was half-burned and on fire. The other was stuck in the burning woodpile, so he had to remove the pile.
Just as Else, surprised, was about to tell him to stop, the hand that had been fearlessly chopping through the firewood pulled out a shoe. However, the shoe was already on fire and burning. She tried to tell him to stop, but no sound came out.
Sibyl put out the fire on her shoe with his bare hands. His skin was burned by the flames as he did so. Not only was his skin cut, but it was also certain that it would become inflamed and tangled. Else looked at him with eyes that saw something foolish.
Sibyl held the charred shoes to his chest, just as Else had done in the past. Else’s gaze fell on the hand holding the shoes. Hia eyes were distorted. They were pitiful and foolish. Far from being pitiful, they were just angry. The shoes were a sign of Else’s estrangement from him.
Proof that she no longer wanted to continue this messy and shabby relationship. A declaration that her love was over. The shoes were her feelings for him. The moment she threw them into the flames, he became nothing to Else. But, but what did she say...
Nothing would change even if he foolishly took it out again. Whether he waited for her in the rain or died of a fever, it was no longer her concern. On the contrary, everything he did to change her mind was abominable and repulsive.
Else glared at him with boiling eyes. She slapped the hand holding the shoe hard. The burned hand gave out, and the shoe fell to the floor. Sibyl picked it up again and bent down. Else stomped on the hand holding the shoe.
The hand, whose flesh was red and flaky and began to swell, was crushed under her feet. She trampled on his fingers without mercy, as if trying to cut them off. Not a single groan escaped his lips. He simply endured silently...
'I'm bored.'
I'm sick of you. Your love is suffocating.
Else looked down at his crown, groaning. Sibyl, who had been enduring Else's cruel footsteps, raised his head. The moisture that had been condensing was falling drop by drop. It was disgusting. It was so dirty and horrible... Even those tears were an insult to Else. She glared at him with bloodshot eyes and kicked his face with her foot.
'Disgusting little shit.'
“Your Majesty, your face. No, your hands...!”
'Disgusting little shit.'
***
“Your Majesty, your face. No, your hands...!”
Alexander shouted in surprise. Sybil was holding the shoes with his hands that were charred by the fire. The rain was falling hard and pounding on him. Alexander looked down at his hands, which were obviously seriously injured. They were not wounds from being hit or stabbed, but from being burned.
“How did this happen?”
There was certainly no sound from the bedroom. There was no sound of furniture breaking, including screams. What on earth could have happened...? Alexander followed Sybil, who was walking without expression. He tried to accept what was in his hand, but he just walked silently as if he didn’t even see Alexander.
"Your Majesty."
“Let’s go back now.”
It was a monotonous voice. Alexander couldn't say anything more because of the heavy expression on his face. He thought about asking Jules about the situation, but he thought that Jules wouldn't know the details right away. They were the only two in the bedroom.
Alexander stopped walking and looked at the King's back. The thin man looked as if he was about to succumb to the rain. His steps were like that. His body, longer and heavier than others, was still the same, but his outline was haggard and terribly twisted.
Suddenly, the King stopped walking. One of the shoes he was holding fell to the floor. Alexander was surprised and approached him to speak. At that moment, the King’s knees collapsed.
"Your Majesty!"
The palace was in an uproar when the King lost consciousness on his way back from the villa. All the court doctors rushed to the bedroom, and the King's personal guards also guarded the bedroom in a tense state. The King suffered from a severe fever. Once lost, consciousness did not easily return, and the fever did not go down easily. The doctor who entered the bedroom immediately made a fever-reducing medicine and poured it into the unconscious King's mouth, and wiped his body with a cold towel.
Alexander bit his lip as he watched the doctors clinging to the King's treatment with a solemn face. Not only was his face pale, but his hands... The hands that held the charred shoes. His hands, which probably would not return to their former long and graceful appearance, were also a problem. How on earth...
“How is it?”
“Which one?”
The doctor asked back. Hands and heat. It was a face that asked which one was being asked.
"Entire."
“You wouldn’t expect that. His Majesty has been treated for burns, but his skin is already badly damaged, so there will be scars. And the fever... I think we’ll have to wait and see a little longer.”
The doctor answered monotonously. He did not say that the King was gradually showing signs of improvement or that he had overcome a crisis.
Alexander looked down at the man with anxious eyes, who was breathing heavily. He was groaning and sweating, and he whispered, “Else.” His burned hand shook. Alexander could not bear to look at him, so he turned his gaze away.
Else was looking at the water flowing in the field. With each step she took, the bell-shaped dress brushed the green grass. Else’s gaze fell on the lush green grass. Sibyl only looked at her white neck exposed to the scorching sun. Her hair, which had not been cut since last winter, reached her waist and was voluminous and luscious, but today, perhaps because of the weather, her hair was tied low.
Half the desire to untie the ribbon that held her hair, half the desire to bury his lips on her milky, clean neck. He wanted to lick her prominent collarbone with his tongue and hear her wet nasal sounds. Else turned around. It was pure eyes. Greenery that had captured summer... Freshness is in full bloom. She was a woman who was dazzling and bright in everything.
His fist clenched at the sensation of blood rushing down and swelling. The woman whose eyes met his blushed. The wind carried the scent of her body on her neck to him. The tickling scent of rose oil... If he continued like this, his bottom would burst. He turned his gaze without hesitation. He knew what kind of expression Else would make.
He turned his back on the woman. Else stopped walking towards him. He walked to the tent. The maids and servants were carrying luggage for the party that was to take place that evening. The party was not for the Count, the lord of the castle, and the Lord of Lugdun. It was originally a servants’ night out that took place once a year.
There was no reason for Else to be present at this event. Nevertheless, Else was dressed up as if she had come to a noble evening. Her hair was tied up like a noblewoman, with many ribbons and decorative flower pins, and a sky blue lace ribbon like a scarf was tied around her neck.
Puffy sleeves, gorgeous lace decoration on the chest, silk gloves. Even if you show off such things, no one will see it. Nevertheless, Else was looking at Sibyl, more splendidly dressed than ever.
'It's so tacky and decorated that it's funny. If I were you...'
'Go do your job.'
Liena, who had come closer, looked at Else with a disapproving look and sneered. Sybil gave Else a cold warning and then stared at her again. Else was stamping her feet, unable to approach him who had run away through the servants.
Her face was already pretty. Her gestures were lovely. Who was she going to show off to that she had dressed up so extravagantly?
***
Else was looking at the water flowing in the field. With each step she took, the bell-shaped dress brushed the green grass. Else’s gaze fell on the lush green grass. Sibyl only looked at her white neck exposed to the scorching sun. Her hair, which had not been cut since last winter, reached her waist and was voluminous and luscious, but today, perhaps because of the weather, her hair was tied low.
Half the desire to untie the ribbon that held her hair, half the desire to bury his lips on her milky, clean neck. He wanted to lick her prominent collarbone with his tongue and hear her wet nasal sounds. Else turned around. It was pure eyes. Greenery that had captured summer... Freshness is in full bloom. She was a woman who was dazzling and bright in everything.
His fist clenched at the sensation of blood rushing down and swelling. The woman whose eyes met his blushed. The wind carried the scent of her body on her neck to him. The tickling scent of rose oil... If he continued like this, his bottom would burst. He turned his gaze without hesitation. He knew what kind of expression Else would make.
He turned his back on the woman. Else stopped walking towards him. He walked to the tent. The maids and servants were carrying luggage for the party that was to take place that evening. The party was not for the Count, the lord of the castle, and the Lord of Lugdun. It was originally a servants’ night out that took place once a year.
There was no reason for Else to be present at this event. Nevertheless, Else was dressed up as if she had come to a noble evening. Her hair was tied up like a noblewoman, with many ribbons and decorative flower pins, and a sky blue lace ribbon like a scarf was tied around her neck.
Puffy sleeves, gorgeous lace decoration on the chest, silk gloves. Even if you show off such things, no one will see it. Nevertheless, Else was looking at Sibyl, more splendidly dressed than ever.
'It's so tacky and decorated that it's funny. If I were you...'
'Go do your job.'
Liena, who had come closer, looked at Else with a disapproving look and sneered. Sybil gave Else a cold warning and then stared at her again. Else was stamping her feet, unable to approach him who had run away through the servants.
Her face was already pretty. Her gestures were lovely. Who was she going to show off to that she had dressed up so extravagantly?
His lips twitched. Else seemed like a well-wrapped and delivered gift to him. Thinking that she had woken up early in the morning and prepared for today, she couldn't help but be cute.
He relaxed his pursed lips and looked at her, who was anxiously waiting to come here. Else was alone, unable to mingle with the servants. Why would the lord’s daughter attend a gathering where only the castle’s servants, including slaves, were present?
He relaxed his pursed lips and looked at her, who was anxiously waiting to come here. Else was alone, unable to mingle with the servants. Why would the lord’s daughter attend a gathering where only the castle’s servants, including slaves, were present?
She must also know that she had stepped into a place where she should not have been.
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