Chapter 06
It was obvious without even seeing how annoying Chris would have tattled.
Mrs. Margo grabbed Sweetpea by the hair and slapped her cheeks countless times. Sweetpea couldn’t even scream, feeling dizzy with each blow. Every slap shook her head violently, making it impossible to focus on anything in front of her.
Mrs. Margo’s one-sided assault only stopped after the blood flowing from Sweetpea’s philtrum splattered onto her hand while she struck her cheek. Disgusted, she let go of Sweetpea’s hair and wiped the blood off her hands with a rag.
But no sooner had Sweetpea barely escaped the violence than Chris tattled on her again with something new.
“Mom! Mom! That girl’s been meeting a strange man in the forest lately!”
“A strange man…?”
“She’s been stealing food from your storage and giving it to him every day!”
“What?!”
“I think she was planning to run away with him, without any gratitude to us.”
Mrs. Margo, who treated Sweetpea like a slave since she had been bought with money, was inflamed with fury. How dare her insolent slave plan to escape behind her back? This demanded a severe punishment.
“No! That’s not true! I never stole any food…!”
Reading the look in Mrs. Margo’s eyes, Sweetpea frantically shook her head in denial.
“I won’t go into the forest anymore! And with Lysianthus—”
Before she could finish her words, her head was whipped around again. Mrs. Margo had struck her once more.
“So you’re calling him by name so familiarly… I suppose our son was right?”
“M-Mrs. Margo…”
“Since this is a name I’ve never heard, he must be a stranger. Did that man try to seduce you in any way?”
“N-No…”
“I adopted a lame girl, clothed her, fed her, let her sleep under my roof! And you’d think she’d just waste my food like a pig and not even do her work properly, you miserable wretch!”
The more Mrs. Margo yelled at Sweetpea, the angrier she became, swinging her hands wildly and striking Sweetpea repeatedly. With each blow, Sweetpea’s head, shoulders, and back took tremendous impact.
Mrs. Margo assumed that Sweetpea had been ungrateful and tried to escape, but the reality was different. Sweetpea had nowhere to run. The “strange man” Chris had tattled about, Lysianthus, was of no help to her.
Wasn’t he the man who had only watched when the Red Dragon tried to kill her? He only helped at the very end…
In the end, he was nothing but a dragon. A creature that despised humans and had no hesitation in slaughtering them—a being not of this world.
Such a being would never help her escape from this hell.
“Sob… sniff…”
Sweetpea, unable to resist and limping, could only protect herself by covering her head. Each shove and strike forced her to take a step back, then another, until she eventually toppled to her side.
“Ugh…!”
Her head hit the corner of a table as she rolled on the floor, covering herself. She couldn’t scream from the pain, yet Mrs. Margo’s violence did not cease.
“You orphan! If I hadn’t taken you in, no one would! Useless girl!”
When Sweetpea fell to the ground, Mrs. Margo stomped on her small body with her foot.
“Mom! You’re going to kill her at this rate!”
Chris, who had caused this whole mess, stepped in, unable to bear it. When he grabbed her to stop her, Mrs. Margo finally exhaled sharply, calming herself slightly.
Mrs. Margo thought she was punishing an ungrateful child, but violence was addictive. Sweetpea, brought in to help with chores, was an easy target. Even as she received beatings, she was constantly anxious about being cast out, gradually becoming an outlet for Mrs. Margo’s anger.
The idea that this child, who should run at her summons and bow her head, had thought to escape was utterly intolerable.
“Get up! A wicked child like you must be thoroughly punished!”
Mrs. Margo dragged Sweetpea’s body across the floor and headed out of the tavern.
“Mom! What are you going to do to her? Are you going to throw her out?!”
Chris, who only wanted to make sure Sweetpea wouldn’t defy him again, began running after them as things escalated beyond what he expected.
They arrived at a small storage room behind the tavern, filled with cleaning tools and unused items, coated in dust.
“Go in!”
Sweetpea was shoved into the storage room by Mrs. Margo. Realizing what punishment was coming, she crawled toward the door despite dizziness and aching pain.
“Don’t even think about coming out until you truly reflect on your actions!”
“Mom, what if she dies in there?”
“Hey, you! You want to side with that brat even after she’s been tormented?”
“I’m not trying to side with her… I’m just worried she might die…”
“Do you think people die that easily?”
“This is a bit… too much, though…”
“Don’t even think about giving that girl a drop of water without my permission!”
While mother and son argued, Sweetpea finally reached the door and grabbed Mrs. Margo’s ankle.
“I-I’m sorry… Please forgive me…”
Sweetpea begged for forgiveness for something she hadn’t done.
“You shouldn’t have done wrong in the first place.”
Yet Mrs. Margo, who had said she would only imprison her until she genuinely repented, dropped Sweetpea like a bug.
“Mrs.! Don’t go! Mrs. Margo!”
Thunk
The sound of the storage room door closing echoed loudly. Mrs. Margo had shut the door despite Sweetpea’s pleas. Darkness enveloped her. Peering through the small gap, she could see Mrs. Margo leaving with Chris. Chris glanced back a few times but didn’t return.
“Open… please open the door…”
Sweetpea struggled with the handle and scratched at the door, but no one came to her aid—not even Lysianthus, who had saved her once before.
It was the second day of Sweetpea’s confinement. Occasionally, tavern visitors would ask about her whereabouts, but Mrs. Margo’s lie that she had been sent to a relative’s house in another village caused them to quickly forget.
Mrs. Margo, still furious, had no intention of giving Sweetpea even a drop of water. Chris was the only one fretting over Sweetpea. He wanted to discipline the girl gently for climbing on him without permission.
Yet despite his protests, Mrs. Margo had no intention of freeing Sweetpea.
On the third day, unable to bear his worry, Chris approached the storage room and quietly called Sweetpea’s name.
“Hey, you cripple!”
…But there was no response.
“You ignoring me? Do you want to die?!”
He kicked the door to scare her, but still no answer.
“Hey, Sweetpea Loren!”
From this moment, Chris’s anxiety grew.
“Mom!”
Chris ran to his mother, grabbing her apron in desperation.
“I kept calling her, but that cripple isn’t answering!”
“Oh, my son, you’re so naive. She’s just scheming to get her punishment over quickly!”
“Maybe she fainted… what if she’s… dead?”
“Shut up! Don’t worry about that girl’s feigned illness and just do your job. I’ll straighten out that ungrateful brat properly!”
Even Mrs. Margo, who usually obeyed any request from her only son, did not budge this time.
“What should I do…?”
Chris’s anxiety continued to grow.
Night fell again in the storage room. Apart from a single beam of moonlight filtering through the old wooden boards, it was pitch dark.
Occasionally, animals would visit and talk to her, but that alone couldn’t alleviate the loneliness. Left completely alone in the darkness, she felt extreme isolation. Her body ached, and no one cared for her, which made her heartache even more unbearable.
She called out to the familiar voices she hadn’t summoned in a long time.
“Mom, Dad… Sister…”
But no matter how much she called, her family did not come. They were all dead at the hands of the dragon.
The dragon had destroyed everything she had—her home, her family, everything…
Paradoxically, the only one she could turn to for help was Lysianthus, from the very species that had taken everything from her.
Even though there was no guarantee he would help, he was the only one who had ever assisted her.
“…”
Sweetpea wanted to escape this dark storage room that was poisoning not just her body but her mind. She hated the dragon, yet she wanted to reach out to anyone who could pull her out of this hell.
Anyone would do. As long as someone could save her…
Her voice hoarse from thirst, she barely whispered the name:
“Ly…si-an…thus…”
She called for him as desperately as when she nearly died at the hands of the Red Dragon.
Lysianthus… please, just reach out to me once…
I have nothing to give you, but if you save me… then…
I’ll do anything, please…
As she clung to this hopeless hope, frantically seeking Lysianthus,
“….”
Noisy sounds came from outside. Then, the old storage door creaked open.
Lysianthus…?!
Sweetpea stared at the doorway with hope, but her hopeful expression froze when she saw the person entering.
“What? You’re actually fine?”
The person who entered wasn’t Lysianthus—it was Chris.
“You were alive and ignored me when I called? Want to die?”
Chris pretended to raise his fist. Having grown accustomed to violence, Sweetpea instinctively shrank. But he didn’t really intend to strike, lowering his fist immediately.
“If Mom finds out about this, she might really scold me.”
“…”
“She told me not to give you even a drop of water, but I’m letting you out with a big heart.”
“…”
“Don’t ever think about meeting that stranger in the forest again, and don’t defy me. Got it? Why suffer like this just because you acted so rudely?”
“…”
“Eh-hem! What are you doing? Not coming out?”
“…”
“Hey, cripple! Did you get so beaten up that you’re deaf now?”
Sweetpea had hoped for anyone’s help. But she decided to retract that wish. She had wished for help from anyone—just not Chris.
