PBAOM ★ CH 07

Chapter 7

The Man of Unknown Origin, Deoki (1) 

Just when the air had turned cold and heavy, something light and soft dropped onto my lap.

“Here. Play with that when you get bored alone.”

Cautiously, I touched it. It was a small, pale-green cloth doll, about the size of my palm.

When I brought it closer to my nose and sniffed, it smelled wonderful—like lavender and basil. The scent seeped into my fingers as I realized the doll had been filled with herbs.

“I figured it must be frustrating not being able to see,” Deoki said casually. “So I thought it might cheer you up a little.”

I hadn’t expected that kind of kindness from him. Wasn’t he the one planning to kill me soon?

When he noticed my confused expression, he simply shrugged.

“There was someone around me once—lost their sight young too. A kid, really. So I know, roughly, how hard it can be.”

With his hair brushed neatly back, the man’s sharp profile glowed faintly in the firelight, cool and sensual like a painting.

His expression looked far away, as if lost in memory. I didn’t dare interrupt whatever he was remembering.

Then suddenly—

“Lady.”

Deoki’s voice brought me back from my thoughts.

“Did you drink the poisoned cup in your brother’s place on purpose?”

His sharp question made my heart skip, but I tried not to show it.

“If you’re planning to interrogate me,” I said, “shouldn’t you guarantee my life first?”

“So you don’t plan to talk?”

“Of course not. Why should I tell you anything about my family? You could be working for one of the princes, for all I know.”

At that, Deoki chuckled softly.

“Still trying to protect the family that threw you away, huh? Tell me—why do you think you’re still alive right now?”

He reached over and brushed a few loose strands of hair from my cheek. His tone was full of mocking amusement.

“Because of those oh-so-great brothers of yours?”

“Stop it,” I said, tightening my fists. “They weren’t that bad. Not enough for me to hear this from you.”

I lifted my chin toward the empty air beside him, as if glaring back. Though my vision was blurry, I could still make out his face, looking down at me arrogantly.

My heart pounded hard, but I forced myself to speak.

“I was only ten back then. Who in their right mind would willingly drink poison?”

Deoki slowly nodded, as if admitting I had a point.

“True enough. No sane person would do that.”

I couldn’t tell him that the “crazy person” had been me. I’d never have drunk that poison if I’d had any other choice.

Resting his chin on his hand, Deoki studied me for a moment, then asked suddenly,

“Did it hurt a lot?”

“What?”

“Your eyes,” he said. “I heard it was a poison so strong that even grown men couldn’t endure it.”

His tone was casual, like he was asking about the weather.

I didn’t want to recall that moment seven years ago. The pain had been so vivid, so unbearable, that even now my body shuddered at the memory.

Forcing an awkward smile, I tried to change the topic.

“Instead of that… I want to hear your story. You said you’re going to kill me anyway—so at least tell me a little before you do.”

But Deoki didn’t answer. He simply picked up his sword—his constant companion—and began to sharpen it again, the rasping sound filling the silence.

I hesitated, then added softly,

“When I listen to other people’s stories, time passes faster. For a moment, I can forget my own situation.”

Deoki glanced at me. Then, after a pause, he leaned forward slightly, sitting up straight.

“The name I told you—it’s not my real one.”

So he was using an alias. I’d already suspected as much.

“I figured,” I said.

“And… I like cloudy days,” he added.

“Good weather for quiet hunting.”

That was it? The way he said it so seriously almost made me laugh. Deoki, clearly amused by my disappointed face, smiled faintly.

I remembered how easily he had overpowered our family’s knights. Back then, his face was hidden under a mask and hood. He had killed without hesitation—calm, efficient, terrifyingly skilled.

To think he had broken into the Duke’s estate alone and kidnapped me…

Someone like him should’ve appeared in the original story. Maybe I just didn’t recognize the name.

I tilted my head back and looked toward the ceiling instead of his face. My lips pressed together tightly. His gaze, I could feel, followed even that small movement.

He didn’t know that I could actually see.

So he didn’t know that I could see him—the faint glimmer in his black eyes that looked like both longing and exhaustion, like quiet obsidian in the firelight.

‘What is he thinking…?’

Carefully, I asked,

“How long have you been doing this kind of work?”

“Hmm… about ten years, I’d say.”

“That’s… quite a long career. How old are you, then? From your voice, you don’t sound that much older than me.”

“When kids like you were learning to read and play music,” he said, “I was rolling in the mud, learning how to hide and kill. And yes, I am older than you.”

Deoki gave me a look that said, Satisfied now?

Talking to someone who knows more than you is always dangerous—especially when you don’t know when they’ll draw their knife.

Judging by how he spoke about poison, he wasn’t just a lone assassin. He probably worked under some organization—like the one hired by the Second Prince years ago to kill Prince Nicholas.

That assassin had been caught and executed long ago, as far as I knew.

“Who are you working for?” I asked again. “Are you even from our kingdom?”

This time, Deoki didn’t answer. He stood up slowly instead, looking bored.

“Question time’s over, Lady.”

“What? I barely asked anything!”

“If you’re that curious…”

He leaned down until his breath brushed my ear and whispered, low and teasing—

“You can start finding out from now on.”

My breath caught. His lips were right there—close enough that my eyelashes trembled.

The cool scent of mint and the forest surrounded me, the same as the smell from the little doll. Then, without another word, he picked up his sword and walked away, not looking back.

***

The men of House Mermandi guarded the detached building like a fortress.

They had good reason: their enemies could strike at any moment, and the target would surely be Natania.

To the Mermandi family, she was their only real bargaining chip—if they married her off to the First Prince, even if their political schemes were exposed, the royal faction wouldn’t dare move against them too quickly.

But her blindness was a fatal flaw in the marriage market. They had planned to force the engagement anyway… until she suddenly disappeared.

The girl they’d kept so carefully hidden had vanished without a trace in just a few days.

Two days after Natania’s disappearance, the Duke ordered the entire mansion searched top to bottom. That was when the truth finally came out.

The head maid stood trembling before the Duke.

“In truth, Your Grace, we only realized Lady Natania was missing much later. Her personal maid said she had a habit of sneaking out of her room… for quite some time.”

The head maid braced herself for the Duke’s fury, eyes squeezed shut. They had tried to handle it quietly before it reached him—but failed.

The butler beside her, shaking all over, added,

“When I arrived, all the gatekeepers had already collapsed, sir. They must’ve been drugged. They were tied up in the basement, so it took us a while to find them…”

The Duke pressed his fingers to his temple, his face tight with pain.

“So your excuse,” he said slowly, “is that you tried to cover it up yourselves and that’s why you reported it late?”

Silence fell.

“Idiots,” he growled. “Do you not understand that every minute matters in a kidnapping case?!”

His cane slammed the floor as he rose in anger—but before he could strike, someone caught his arm.

“Please, Father.”

It was Nicholas.

“You expect me to sit still when my daughter’s been taken?!” the Duke snapped.

Nicholas lowered his head.

“It’s my fault the security was lax. I never imagined anyone would dare target her while she stayed here. I should have been more cautious.”

How had information leaked? Nicholas’s jaw tightened as he glanced at his father.

The Duke’s eyes were full of frustration and guilt—though it was unclear whether it came from anger or from the fear that Natania might already be dead.

Finally, he muttered, almost to himself,

“I never should have left her alone… Is she even still alive?”

Hearing that, Nicholas straightened.

“Don’t worry, Father. Just like I uncovered the one who tried to poison us years ago, I’ll find whoever dared to kidnap her this time, too.”

Yes. He would.

Nicholas clenched the letter in his hand so tightly it nearly tore.

After taking Natania, the kidnapper had left a single message in her room. An anonymous letter telling them to consider her dead.

Nicholas hadn’t told his father about that. The Duke was too frail now, his strength fading with age.

Their family still stood strong—but Nicholas knew that would only last as long as he did.

‘When I become the next Duke…’

He thought grimly, tightening his fist.

‘It’ll be time to discard the pieces we no longer need.’