Wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve, Asros ran up the stone steps in one breath and pulled the firmly closed doorknob.
Through the gap in the opened door, the scene of a great hall as silent as death was revealed.
Asros looked around the dim space, where not even a maid, let alone a guard, could be seen, then quietly moved his feet and went up the stairs.
He did not know why he was muffling his footsteps.
He had felt this when he came last time too, but this castle was just like a cemetery. Its eerie atmosphere made him hold his breath without realizing it.
Glancing at the curtained windows, Asros ran up the stairs two steps at a time and reached the third floor in one breath.
At last, his older sister’s bedroom door came into view.
After stopping in front of the large mahogany door and catching his breath for a moment, Asros carefully knocked.
But even after waiting for a long time, there was no question asking who it was, nor any answer telling him to come in.
Could she be asleep?
Asros pressed his ear to the door, then knocked a little harder this time. Then, from inside, there came a thud.
After hesitating for a moment, he soon pulled the doorknob and looked inside the room.
Pale smoke was shimmering inside the disordered bedroom.
Asros let out a dry cough at the stale air, then suddenly widened his eyes. A scene as if a storm had swept through unfolded before him.
Blinking with his mouth open in shock, he stepped into that mess as if drawn by something.
Shards of broken glass were scattered across the bedroom.
As if a wine bottle had been thrown, the carpet smelled strongly of wine, and on top of it, long torn pieces of cloth and feathers that seemed to have come out of a pillow were scattered in disorder.
Asros, who had been looking over them with blank eyes, suddenly discovered the full-length mirror shattered to pieces and flinched.
On the surface of the mirror, cracked like a spiderweb, his own figure was reflected in dozens of fragments.
Feeling chilled, he awkwardly stepped backward, but then he heard a rustling sound behind him.
Asros turned around in fright and froze when he discovered Thalia sprawled carelessly on the carpet.
For an instant, his breath caught in his throat.
She was wearing only a thin nightgown, staring up at the ceiling with empty eyes. Her face, as if all vitality had drained out of it, sent a chill down his spine.
She moved an arm as thin as a birch branch, grabbed a handful of feathers rolling across the floor, and scattered them into the air.
White feathers floated like dust in the murky air.
The woman, who had been blankly looking up at that sight with unfocused eyes, slowly moved her eyes and looked at him.
Asros unconsciously took a step backward.
She moved her lips, where dried blood scabs clung, and let out a dry voice.
“…Did you come to watch?”
“I-I just… came for a sick visit…”
Her desolate eyes fixed on the armful of flowers in his arms.
Asros felt his ears grow hot. For some reason, he felt as though he was doing something terrible to her.
Thalia lowered her eyelids like someone exhausted.
“…Leave them there and go.”
Asros hesitated, then placed the bouquet on the shelf beside the bed.
He no longer knew what he should do.
Looking at his older sister with helpless eyes, Asros soon left the room.
Berens, who had been waiting in the corridor, frowned when he saw his pale face. He looked as if he suspected Asros had been harmed somehow.
Without explaining anything, Asros grabbed his hand and pulled him along.
“Let’s hurry back to the Main Palace.”
Then he ran down the corridor, which was as quiet as a tomb.
He did not even know what he was running away from. He simply wanted to leave this place, which was strangely cold and damp, as soon as possible.
Asros looked back once over his shoulder at the half-open bedroom door, then ran down the stairs.
Then, like a beast escaping from a trap, he fled the detached palace in one breath.
***
It felt as though an ant was crawling through her blood vessels.
A pain that pricked at her nerves climbed up her shins and gnawed at her knees, thighs, pelvis, and waist.
It was not as intense a pain as before, but it was just as irritating.
Thalia raised her nails and persistently scratched at her bumpy knees. Then the ant crawling beneath her skin began burrowing into her bones, as if rebelling.
To pull out that disgusting bug, Thalia peeled away the tough shell, which was like dead skin.
Blood streamed from the opened wound. Ignoring the burning pain, she was gouging at the red exposed flesh with her nails when the nanny, who had just entered the room, saw the scene and let out a shrill scream.
“I told you, please stop doing that!”
The nanny set down the tray she was carrying as if throwing it and grabbed Thalia’s hand.
Thalia looked at her with powerless eyes, then placed her other hand on the scar.
“Why are you really doing this!”
The nanny grabbed even her remaining hand and let out deep sighs.
“What are you going to do if the scar, which is already unsightly enough, becomes even worse?”
Thalia looked at her with vacant eyes.
This was the nanny who had always praised her endlessly, saying she was beautiful. How devoted she had been, saying Thalia seemed like a perfect reproduction of Senevier’s childhood.
Even in that nanny’s eyes, it seemed her current appearance looked hideous.
Thalia violently twisted her wrists free and shoved the nanny’s shoulder.
“Get out! I don’t even want to see you!”
The nanny glared at her with sulky eyes, then stomped toward the shelf. Then she picked up the bowl of porridge and the medicine bottle placed on the tray and held them out.
“Do not worry. Once you eat this, I will leave even if you try to stop me.”
Thalia reached out to throw the bowl.
But it seemed that even the dullest nanny developed some sense after suffering the same thing several times.
The nanny quickly stepped back and sent her a stern look.
“If you do not eat, I will not burn the sleep herb for you.”
Thalia glared at her with resentment in her eyes, but eventually accepted the bowl. She no longer had the strength left to argue.
She picked up the spoon and mechanically shoved the mushy food into her mouth. It felt exactly like eating mud.
After forcing herself to finish the porridge while holding back nausea and even swallowing the unidentified medicine, the nanny pushed a new bundle of medicinal herbs into the incense burner and lit it for her.
Thalia breathed in the acrid smoke deeply and slumped onto the bed.
As her consciousness grew hazy, drowsiness came over her. Letting out a sigh of relief at her senses growing increasingly blurred, she turned her gaze outside the window. Beyond the transparent glass, the evening sky was turning red.
When the sun set, thick darkness would soon come to cover her. Even as her mind grew clouded, fear crept over her.
She was afraid of night coming. The memory of waiting endlessly in the darkness for someone to come seemed to choke her.
But she was even more afraid of morning coming. She did not want to live another day in this wretched body.
She tightly closed her eyes and murmured words of desperate prayer.
Please, let all the time given to her flow away all at once while she slept.
So that she could be freed from this pain forever.
But as always, her wish did not come true.
Awakened by a hand shaking her shoulder, Thalia looked up at the tall window through which sunlight was pouring in and let out a hollow sigh.
In the end, it seemed another dreadful day was about to begin. She held her throbbing forehead.
At that moment, an unfamiliar voice reached her ears.
“You must get up now, Your Highness.”
Startled, Thalia turned her head and discovered a black shadow standing tall beside the bed, then sprang upright.
A very tall, strongly built woman was looking down at her with eyes the color of steel.
With disciplined movements, the woman bowed gracefully and spoke.
“Please generously forgive the discourtesy of entering your bedroom without permission, Your Highness. I am Trania Meldren, the head maid who manages the Empress’s Palace. By Her Majesty the Empress’s command, I have come to assist Your Highness for today.”
Thalia, wearing a confused expression, rolled her eyes and slowly looked around the room.
At some point, on one side of the now clean bedroom, about fifteen maids dressed in dresses stamped with the seal of the Empress’s Palace were standing by.
Seeing the armful of garments in their hands, Thalia stiffened rigidly.
An ominous premonition tightened her throat.
“Assist me? Why would you…”
“Today, Your Highness will have an audience with His Majesty the Emperor.”
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