BADIL | Chapter 007

Chapter 7
✧ The Unseen Thread ✧

I waved my hand dismissively and replied:

“Oh dear, did you really hear all that? No, not quite. It’s only been around six years.”

“That was around the time you had just started working as a journalist, wasn’t it?”

“No, it was well before that.”

When he mentioned it was around the time I began my career as a journalist… a bitter smile tugged at my lips. As though time, which had momentarily paused, began to move again, memories from that period surfaced clearly in my mind.

That day was no different from any other. My mother hadn’t known that her words would become her final will, and so she said them in her usual playful tone:

“Eidel, everyone has a side to them that’s different from what they show. Your mother learned that truth too late.”

Her voice that day was stronger than ever before.

That’s why it never crossed my mind that her words would be her last. If I had known, I would’ve replied more gently.

But like most people, I lacked the power to foresee the future. I had been busy preparing for work on yet another hectic morning. I adjusted my glasses and asked my mother once again:

“So what? Did you suddenly remember something nice about Dad?”

“I can’t say that… He was garbage—irredeemable. No matter how I think about it, I can’t find a single redeeming quality.”

Ah. So that’s how it is.

I never really cared much about my father anyway. He had been absent since I was born, so I simply nodded coldly.

Then Mother added in a slower, almost reflective tone, as if retrieving a memory from an old diary:

“But… if I had embraced that other side of him too, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. I only regret not making that effort.”

And that… was the last conversation we had.

That same day, I was falsely accused within the imperial palace of orchestrating the vicious attack committed by the princess. I spent the entire day trying to clear my name—and never made it home.

Worried about my absence, Mother went out late that night…

I lifted my eyes to meet Cerulean’s gaze. Though I had always been able to muster a polite smile when needed, I now found it incredibly difficult to curl my lips upward.

Just thinking of my mother was enough to send a blade of crimson grief plunging through my chest.

“My mother was killed by Loire. That’s why… I couldn’t even see her body. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the place where she died.”

“Ah…”

Cerulean’s face turned pale. I bit down on my lip.

My mother, who raised me on her own without a father. There was no one in the world but the two of us—yet I couldn’t even protect her final moments.

‘That someone could be murdered and yet no information was given to her only daughter… that they placed such strict restraints… it’s unthinkable.’

My fists clenched tightly.

I wanted to expose everything I knew about Loire—so that no one else would suffer the same fate. I wanted the truth to reach the people.

Yet despite the sincerity of my resolve, Cerulean shook his head firmly.

“Even so, you must not seek to learn anything about Loire. It’s best to forget about it altogether.”

“…Is it truly that terrifying?”

All I wanted was to understand. Just… what it looked like. How it attacked. When it became a threat.

“The terror isn’t in Loire itself. It’s in the utter impossibility of escaping it… no matter how hard you try.”

Cerulean’s face was expressionless—so devoid of emotion that even a needle couldn’t pierce through.

His words held a fear he had personally experienced when facing those creatures, so I remained silent.

Once the dress was prepared, I filed a request for a leave of absence.

“I’ve worked here for five years. Don’t I deserve a personal leave by now? I just need a bit of rest. I’ll return recharged and ready to work again.”

I wasn’t even asking for paid leave—it was entirely unpaid—yet the editor-in-chief clung to me in despair.

“But you can’t just drop this on us out of nowhere! If you leave, who’s going to manage our gossip section?!”

“I’ve told you before—I never wanted to run the gossip column to begin with!”

“Shush! I only gave it to you because I value your talent!”

“Oh, really…”

Realizing he wouldn’t back down easily, I placed a hand on my waist and sighed deeply. Then, with a wide grin, I declared:

“I’m getting married. So I won’t be able to work for a while.”

“What?! To whom, for heaven’s sake?!”

“I’ll send you the invitation later.”

He’ll probably faint when he sees it.

As I left the newspaper office, I caught the stunned gaze of the society reporter.

‘Even if no one else knew, you at least should’ve figured it out.’

Cerulean and I had returned from the boutique under a barrage of sharp glances. I merely shrugged.

‘Before the wedding, I’ll announce the news myself in our paper.’

They better give me an exclusive bonus for it.

With that, I took Monday off. Then on Tuesday, I tied my long hair tightly and left the house.

Every second Tuesday of the month, I volunteered at an orphanage run by the church.

Even though I could barely care for myself and often staggered from exhaustion, there was a reason I continued volunteering there all these years.

This place had been the only one to reach out a hand to me after my mother passed away and I was left all alone.

‘Even when she was still alive, she’d sometimes bring me along to volunteer here.’

Back in my academy days, I was too busy to visit often. I never imagined that an old connection would end up saving my life.

‘If the priest hadn’t come to me back then… I might’ve died.’

After my mother’s sudden death, and losing my job, the empty house became unbearably silent.

No matter how kind the people around me were, they eventually had to return to their own lives. And once I returned home and closed the door… the suffocating stillness would pounce on me.

In that silence, I stopped feeling hunger. The lines between sleep and waking blurred. I drifted through the house like a jellyfish floating atop the sea—aimless and frail.

By the time the priest found me, I had collapsed on the floor.

“Have you gone mad?! Are you trying to die?!”

Though he was a total stranger who barged into my house and sat me up, I couldn’t bring myself to argue. My head throbbed as though it were about to burst.

‘What… is this…’

Nausea overwhelmed me, and with nothing in my stomach, acid began rising from my empty gut. Just as I thought I would die, warm, salty water touched my lips.

“If you don’t want to die, drink. Slowly. Honestly… dying of dehydration in this day and age…?”

Later I learned I’d been on the brink of death from severe dehydration and malnutrition. Had he arrived just a day later, they said, I would have perished.

“I don’t want to deal with a corpse, so stay here. At least until I can say you’re okay.”

“……Yes.”

In those days, I had no will to live, no desire to do anything. So I followed the priest and entered the orphanage with dragging feet.

“Sister, why are you here?”

“A big sister came! Are you motherless too?”

The children at the orphanage were far too kind and sweet.

“At least you can remember your mother’s face, can’t you?”

“My parents abandoned me. Brother Leo gave me my name.”

There were far too many children burdened by misfortune. And when I saw them, I realized—wanting to die despite having precious memories with my mother… was a luxury.

“Sister, tell me a bedtime story! I love the ones you tell.”

“I liked the story of the wolf! The one where Little Red Riding Hood burned the wolf!”

Living with them gradually helped me regain my emotional footing. Eventually, I was able to endure solitude without being consumed by loneliness.

The first time I returned to the orphanage after receiving my first paycheck, Father Leofrid was furious.

“I didn’t care for you expecting anything in return. Use that money for yourself!”

“B-but I wanted to express my gratitude…”

“Visiting now and then and telling the kids stories is thanks enough!”

And since then, I’ve been visiting regularly.

‘Ah… today was a fruitful day too.’

As I stretched my stiff limbs and stepped outside, I saw a tall man with neatly tied black hair. I smiled and called out:

“Father!”

“Eidel.”

Father Leofrid—the priest who ran the orphanage—was a young man.

Girls from the neighborhood would visit just to see him because of his striking looks.

‘And that black priest’s robe only adds to his ascetic charm or whatever…’

I stood before Father Leofrid with a serene smile. He adjusted his glasses and began to speak:

“I told you not to come, yet here you are. You’re not of any use, you know.”

“Ugh…”

I winced instinctively at the sharpness of his words. It felt like a sour lemon had burst in my mouth.

‘Here we go again. He never filters his words.’

Father Leofrid possessed a frightening talent that didn’t match his appearance.

A cursed mouth—whenever it opened, venom spilled out.

‘And he only ever tells me not to come.’

With others, he would at least list reasons they were unhelpful. But with me, he outright told me not to bother coming, scolding me specifically.

‘Maybe because he saw me when I was crumbling like a cactus that hadn’t seen the sun.’

‘In that sense… I suppose I survived.’

I shrugged casually. I’d intended to tell him this anyway.

“As you said, Father. I’m getting married, so I won’t be able to come for a while.”

At my words, Father Leofrid suddenly stiffened. I nearly laughed at the rare flustered expression on his face.

‘Finally… I see an emotion other than disgust on his face.’

To rattle the great Father Leofrid—what a satisfying achievement. Just as I was basking in this victory, the priest adjusted his glasses and narrowed his eyes.

“Anyway, congratulations. But what do you mean by ‘for a while’?”

If you’re getting married, you won’t be coming back. So what do you mean by ‘for a while’?

I replied cheerfully:

“Oh, if all goes as I expect, I’ll probably get divorced.”

“…What?”

A moment ago, Father Leofrid’s face had simply gone stiff—now it contorted entirely, as if in utter shock.