Chapter 21
The black water had no bottom. In the wavering vision, light gradually faded away.
His breath caught in his throat. Deep in his lungs, where breath had escaped, an unbearable moisture filled the void. Kian was driven to a distant terror, feeling as if his breath would stop at any moment.
Even if he tried to cry for help, it was useless since no voice would come out. Even as he flailed his arms and kicked his legs, there was nothing to grab onto, let alone reach.
A sense of helplessness overwhelmed him. Watching the rising bubbles, he could only sink deeper and deeper, powerless. Kian was being consumed by darkness of unfathomable depth.
When the pain crossed its threshold, an unreal sense of peace arrived.
So this is how I die. At the moment he finally sensed the end, an unintelligible song melted into his ears.
An angelâs voice.
Or perhaps a devilâs whisper?
Whatever the judgment might be for his worthless life, he didnât particularly want to know. Whichever it was, what he wanted wouldnât change.
If only they would let him disappear without a trace. As he made that pathetic promise to offer even his soul in return, light suddenly burst into his vision.
A life that was never permitted from the start wasnât easily permitted death either.
* * *
The sky after the rain was refreshing. Only the waves, grown taller now, continued their advance and retreat, undulating.
His head felt hazy. Waking up slightly later than usual, Kian immediately leaned against the single sofa next to the balcony.
Usually, the day after a nightmare was chaos. Thatâs why he wouldnât let anyone serve tea, instead calling Matilda to quietly take care of things.
But strangely enough.
The room was spotlessly clean. As if nothing had happened.
Has Matilda already been here? No, that had never happened before. She was always careful about examining her masterâs private matters.
In other words, she never acted without being called. Besides, since Kian locked his door before sleeping, it was physically impossible for Matilda to have sneaked in.
Then, knock knock. Despite no answer, someone carefully entered the room.
Vivianne. It was her.
ââŚGood morning.â
She greeted him hesitantly, somehow unable to meet his eyes. Kian carefully took in her approaching figure.
Though not extravagant, wearing the indoor dress certainly changed her bearing. Just as Matilda had said, she looked like a well-bred young lady.
ââŚâŚâ
Meanwhile, Vivianne was watching his reaction.
Yesterday at dawn, after she sang to him and some time passed, Kianâs condition calmed down.
As the rain subsided, his fever dropped, and after confirming that Kian was breathing evenly, she too could finally catch her breath.
And only then did she notice the chaos in the room. Now that she knew, she couldnât just ignore it.
The fact that Kian had locked the door, his agitated response when she said she would call someone â it all bothered her.
If someone were to see this, his mood would plummet again.
Most worrying was the thought of him waking up to see his ruined room and remembering last nightâs events. When that thought occurred to her, she couldnât just stand by.
Vivianne cleared away the broken vase pieces and roses without leaving a trace, and left the room around dawn.
And she felt relieved to see him awake at his usual time.
She deliberately set up the tea set as if nothing had happened and placed the newspaper. Usually, when he opened the newspaper, she would start pouring tea with a gentle trickling sound.
Thatâs how she had learned and always done it, but instead of reaching for the newspaper, Kian suddenly grabbed her right wrist.
âŚWhatâs this?
Her heart sank.
âHow did you get hurt this time?â
Having discovered the cut on her fingertip, Kian immediately began questioning her.
What should she answer?
Last night, Kian clearly wasnât in his right mind. Did he not remember her coming here? Or was he questioning her while knowing? Her mind went blank, and she couldnât speak.
âWell, I suppose the reason doesnât matter.â
ââŚPardon?â
âI assigned two people to look after you, but neither did their job properly. I should question them instead.â
He must mean Matilda and Theodore. The blame had fallen where she never imagined.
She never thought he would make such an issue over just a cut finger. Vivianne, flustered, rushed to defend them.
âAh, no. Theyâre not at fault. Itâs all my fault.â
âWhy is it your fault?â
âThey thought I was sleeping. Itâs entirely my responsibility and has nothing to do with them.â
âYou got hurt alone at night? How?â
His face was expressionless. That felt more chilling than if he had been angry.
When Vivianne couldnât respond, Kian gestured toward the side table.
âThere was a vase here with lots of roses in it. The breaking sound was probably that vase. And coincidentally, you cut your hand.â
ââŚâŚâ
âDo I need to say more?â
Since he already knew everything, denying it would be foolish.
She had no choice but to confess.
ââŚI came here at night.â
Vivianne squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head.
âI heard something breaking and was worried. I thought you might feel bad seeing the broken pieces in the morning, so I cleaned up on my own. I wasnât trying to hide it deliberately. Iâm sorry.â
She just wanted to help because she was worried about him. Had it been presumptuous meddling? She had hoped he wouldnât get hurt, and wished he wouldnât be wounded.
But considering how Kian wanted to keep his vulnerabilities hidden, it might have been unwelcome kindness.
She knew that. And yet.
She questioned herself.
If she could go back to last night, could she have ignored that pain?
Just because it was something he didnât want to show?
Even if it was for Kianâs sake?
She wasnât sure.
Her heart felt heavy, thinking that what sheâd meant as consideration might have scratched at his wounds again.
âEven after taking off your maidâs clothes, youâre still doing a maidâs work.â
He finally released her wrist. Her pale hand fell limply.
âDonât serve tea anymore. Youâre not a maid now.â
âThen why did you keep me that day? You still havenât⌠told me the reason.â
It was a somewhat impulsive question.
But it was also her honest feeling.
Without any explanation, Kian had dressed her in pretty clothes, given her a nice room, and assigned his trusted people to her. Yet he would get angry like this and speak rudely.
Too cold to suggest affection.
Yet too kind to suggest hatred.
Too dependent on his moods to be a noble lady, yet told it wasnât her place when she tried to serve.
It was confusing to receive both kindness and rudeness without understanding why.
Some days she felt hopeful from Kianâs kindness, other days her mood would plummet when she felt disliked.
Yes. He had said he had something to tell her.
Because he needed her and wanted her.
She wanted to hear now what she hadnât heard that day because sheâd fallen asleep.
âIâve been treating you too well, and it seems you donât understand your situation.â
ââŚPardon?â
âShall I show you? What kind of existence you are in this house?â
Without waiting for an answer, Kian stood up and strode away. Then came the small tinkling sound from the bell pull.
Usually when he did that, a maid would enter. So he must want to call a maid.
What was he planning to do? Before she could guess his intentions, there was a knock at the door.
In an instant, Kian came close and pulled her waist from behind with one arm. Vivianneâs body followed into his embrace like a rag doll.
With the sensation of her back loosening, Vivianneâs face turned deathly pale.
âCome in.â
He released her as he permitted the maidâs entry. Vivianne stepped away from his embrace, not understanding what was happening.
âYou called, Master.â
The maid who entered bowed her head promptly at her masterâs command. Though her pose was respectful, one could sense her effort not to steal glances.
Knowing what those glances meant, her face burned red. She wanted to leave this room as quickly as possible.
âAh, Vivi. Wait.â
Just as she was about to rush out, she was caught in Kianâs embrace again.
He casually pulled Vivianne like a doll and retied the back laces of her indoor dress that he had loosened.
For a man to help dress a woman â unless completely mad, it was something a noble man would never do.
âDraw a bath.â
He casually instructed the maid. When the maid didnât respond, he asked again, somewhat irritably.
âDid you not hear me?â
ââŚAh, yes. Iâll prepare it right away.â
Was she flustered? The maidâs voice trembled.
Her legs felt weak enough to collapse. Perhaps noticing this, instead of releasing Vivianne, he held her more firmly.
âShall we bathe together?â
He whispered playfully while pulling at the ribbon he had just tied. Her body froze while her face burned hot.
âHow startled you are.â
When she remained stiff without response, a small laugh scattered near her ear.
âIâm joking. Go rest.â
As soon as she received permission, she fled the room.






