Prolog
“That man eats people. He’s a cannibal.”
“Savage. Uncivilized.”
The voices of people who had been whispering about him lingered in my ears on the wind and then disappeared.
I looked up at the man standing in front of me.
His huge shadow, with his back to the sun, completely covered mine.
A bitterly cold wind passed by, scratching at me so hard that I could barely stand. My neck naturally curled up.
“Drink.”
He held the bowl out to me as if telling me to take it quickly.
I looked up blankly, and sweat mixed with blood was dripping down his forehead.
He was covered in blood, including his face, hands, and clothes.
Come to think of it, he was sweating even in this cold snowstorm, wearing light clothing.
'Isn't it cold?'
I feel so weak, shivering even though I'm wrapped in a thick fur coat over several layers of underwear to keep out any wind.
I sniffled and looked down at the bowl he offered me.
“Before it gets cold, hurry.”
Bloody hands. Soaked bowls.
Although I didn't feel like it, I took off my gloves and accepted the bowl.
"Ah..."
The unfamiliar sensation that touched my hand the moment I touched it sent goosebumps down my entire body, and I groaned without realizing it.
A liquid that was slippery and strangely sticky at the same time ran down my hand and dripped onto the snow on the floor.
Red water like flower petals appeared on the pure white ground.
Steam was still rising from the unpleasant liquid that filled the bowl.
I glanced at the altar erected on the frozen white ground behind him.
On top of it was an offering, wrapped tightly in a cloth that had once been as white as snow, but was now dyed red.
What's under that sheet?
I was curious, but I didn't want to think about it.
“Drink it before it cools down. It will only be effective then.”
As I stood there muttering, the maid urged me from behind.
I looked around with the bowl in my hand. Everyone was looking at me.
Some people laughed as if it were funny, while others scoffed as if it were pathetic.
“I can’t drink it.”
“The Princess of the south who grew up so beautifully.”
“She might cry and beg to be allowed to return to the palace.”
“What is a weak southerner who can’t even do something like that going to do here?”
I looked at the bowl.
'You have to drink it.'
They don't know.
I am not a flower that has grown beautifully in the greenhouse of the South, but a weed in the palace that has been trampled and eventually pulled out.
Now, using this blood as my nourishment, I will tenaciously take root in this barren land and bloom into a poisonous weed.
It will engulf the world with deadly poison.
I sipped from the bowl with my eyes wide open, wanting to face my situation rather than avoid it.
The strong smell, the horrible sensation running down my tongue, and above all, the fishy taste that I was experiencing for the first time in my life made me gag.
But I ended up swallowing it all.
'If I were going to be influenced by something like this, I wouldn't have married this man in the first place.'
I roughly wiped the blood flowing from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand.
I gritted my teeth to keep myself from throwing up what I had drunk and looked up at the man with a serious expression.
“Well done.”
He looked at me and smiled.
"Waa..."
Starting with someone's admiration.
“Waaa!”
“Waa!”
A cheer poured out toward me.
I held the empty bowl high in front of everyone.
“Long live the Marchioness!”
A voice praising me echoed through the snowy fields.
I will put down roots here.
So I will definitely get revenge.
To those I loved so much, but who brutally killed me.
“That man eats people. He’s a cannibal.”
“Savage. Uncivilized.”
The voices of people who had been whispering about him lingered in my ears on the wind and then disappeared.
I looked up at the man standing in front of me.
His huge shadow, with his back to the sun, completely covered mine.
A bitterly cold wind passed by, scratching at me so hard that I could barely stand. My neck naturally curled up.
“Drink.”
He held the bowl out to me as if telling me to take it quickly.
I looked up blankly, and sweat mixed with blood was dripping down his forehead.
He was covered in blood, including his face, hands, and clothes.
Come to think of it, he was sweating even in this cold snowstorm, wearing light clothing.
'Isn't it cold?'
I feel so weak, shivering even though I'm wrapped in a thick fur coat over several layers of underwear to keep out any wind.
I sniffled and looked down at the bowl he offered me.
“Before it gets cold, hurry.”
Bloody hands. Soaked bowls.
Although I didn't feel like it, I took off my gloves and accepted the bowl.
"Ah..."
The unfamiliar sensation that touched my hand the moment I touched it sent goosebumps down my entire body, and I groaned without realizing it.
A liquid that was slippery and strangely sticky at the same time ran down my hand and dripped onto the snow on the floor.
Red water like flower petals appeared on the pure white ground.
Steam was still rising from the unpleasant liquid that filled the bowl.
I glanced at the altar erected on the frozen white ground behind him.
On top of it was an offering, wrapped tightly in a cloth that had once been as white as snow, but was now dyed red.
What's under that sheet?
I was curious, but I didn't want to think about it.
“Drink it before it cools down. It will only be effective then.”
As I stood there muttering, the maid urged me from behind.
I looked around with the bowl in my hand. Everyone was looking at me.
Some people laughed as if it were funny, while others scoffed as if it were pathetic.
“I can’t drink it.”
“The Princess of the south who grew up so beautifully.”
“She might cry and beg to be allowed to return to the palace.”
“What is a weak southerner who can’t even do something like that going to do here?”
I looked at the bowl.
'You have to drink it.'
They don't know.
I am not a flower that has grown beautifully in the greenhouse of the South, but a weed in the palace that has been trampled and eventually pulled out.
Now, using this blood as my nourishment, I will tenaciously take root in this barren land and bloom into a poisonous weed.
It will engulf the world with deadly poison.
I sipped from the bowl with my eyes wide open, wanting to face my situation rather than avoid it.
The strong smell, the horrible sensation running down my tongue, and above all, the fishy taste that I was experiencing for the first time in my life made me gag.
But I ended up swallowing it all.
'If I were going to be influenced by something like this, I wouldn't have married this man in the first place.'
I roughly wiped the blood flowing from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand.
I gritted my teeth to keep myself from throwing up what I had drunk and looked up at the man with a serious expression.
“Well done.”
He looked at me and smiled.
"Waa..."
Starting with someone's admiration.
“Waaa!”
“Waa!”
A cheer poured out toward me.
I held the empty bowl high in front of everyone.
“Long live the Marchioness!”
A voice praising me echoed through the snowy fields.
I will put down roots here.
So I will definitely get revenge.
To those I loved so much, but who brutally killed me.
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