“Quietly dispose of the body… You.”
Evan entered with two servants, his face draining of color when he spotted Shailoh standing awkwardly. Dismissing the servants outside, he closed the door and ran a hand over his face, fixing her with a glacial stare.
“Hah… How long have you been here? From the beginning, perhaps?”
“I came in to catch my breath for a moment, and then Brother and this man came in.”
“So, it was from the beginning.” Evan’s heavy sigh filled the room as he approached, settling onto the couch opposite her. As if the corpse between them were invisible, Evan spoke first. “I won’t make excuses. Shailoh, I poisoned that man.”
Shailoh squeezed her eyes shut at his blunt confession. His voice hung leaden in the air as he continued.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“That’s why you called me back here, isn’t it?”
“…Yes.”
Though she’d already pieced it together, the confirmation sent waves of nausea crashing through her. Shailoh stumbled to the window on trembling legs, dry-heaving repeatedly with only bitter bile rising. She turned to face Evan as he approached, her question cutting through the silence.
“Does everyone… know about this?”
“They know. Father, Mother, and Claire.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
Pain lanced through her skull as a deathly chill swept her body. Her throat constricted.
“The duchess found me at the orphanage and brought me here! She said she’d consider me her own daughter. You, Father, all treated me like your own daughter, like a sister. I was truly happy. So, I tried my best to live up to your expectations! But…!”
Despite her attempt at composure, her voice emerged as a metallic-tinged scream.
“After Claire returned, it seemed like the three of you had agreed to turn your backs on me… So I left. It was hard to accept that Claire hated me, but I understood. The rumors that I whipped and dismissed the maids and servants…”
“They were all lies. It was Claire who did those things. You were innocent.”
His belated explanation met her honest confession. Shailoh crossed her arms defensively across her chest, shaking her head.
“Lies.”
“We knew even two years ago. We knew you were innocent.”
“No, that’s a lie!”
“Shailoh.”
“It can’t be true!”
“You were just Claire’s shadow. Neither Mother, Father, nor I ever saw you for who you truly were.”
Shailoh wanted to deny it, but the truth resonated in his words. His sincere eyes pierced the wasteland of her heart.
“We tried placing something similar in the place of the one who was truly gone, but the sense of loss never went away.”
“So… I was never even abandoned. Is that it?”
She had never truly been accepted, so she had never been abandoned. All the warmth and kindness had been lies. None of them had ever truly seen her.
“I knew… deep down. But I still wanted to deny it.”
Hot tears streaked down her cheeks. Without bothering to wipe them away, Shailoh blinked. Her entire body quaked as if she were freezing, and she couldn’t steady herself.
“Shailoh.”
Evan called to her with a hint of pity as she sank to the floor. He knelt to meet her gaze, and as Shailoh looked up, hoping for an apology, her face contorted in despair.
Evan clicked his tongue, looking down at her like a worm writhing in the dirt. “It’s laughable. You should consider it an honor that your miserable life crawling in the gutter was of any use to us. You still don’t know your place, do you?”
The tears she’d been fighting spilled over. Shailoh clutched his collar. “…And you still call yourself human?”
“What?”
Evan arched an eyebrow and seized her by the throat. Despite the threat, Shailoh glared defiantly into his eyes.
“Your blood must be ice-cold. Heartless, emotionless monsters.”
“Say whatever you want. Quite original for last words.”
Evan scoffed and tightened his grip. Shailoh fought back, digging her nails into the hand choking her.
“Ugh…”
“Don’t worry, Shailoh. I’ll toss your corpse back under that bridge. I’ll leave you in that shack where your mother died.”
Her breath caught in her throat as darkness crept along the edges of her vision. She clawed and thrashed, desperate screams dying in her constricted airway, but the door remained an impassive barrier to her salvation.
Mom.
Shailoh’s fading consciousness summoned the memory of those skeletal hands. That gaunt face pressed against hers, pleading for her to find a sliver of happiness in this cruel world.
Mom…
As blackness swallowed her, she reached with trembling fingers toward the final vision swimming before her eyes.
“Milord!”
The door crashed open without warning, and Evan released her throat just before delivering his final squeeze.
“What is it?” he snarled.
“It’s urgent. You need to come out immediately.”
“What?”
“Right now!” The butler, dispensing with explanations, dragged Evan from the room. The door slammed shut, followed by the damning click of the lock.
Escape was imperative, but her body betrayed her. Shailoh collapsed onto the floor, lungs burning as they fought to reclaim the air they’d been denied.
“Someone’s probably guarding the outside anyway…” And Evan would return to finish what he’d started.
Her vision tilted and blurred again. Gasping, she marshaled her remaining strength to roll onto her back. The thought of dying with her final sight being a stranger’s corpse filled her with a bitter cocktail of rage and sorrow.
Footsteps approached rapidly. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the inevitable, when a dull thud punctuated the silence, followed by sharp, truncated cries that pierced her consciousness.
Her eyelids fluttered open as the supposedly secure door swung wide. Two men entered. One approached the lifeless body on the floor, examined its jaw, and reported clinically, “He’s dead.”
“Judging by the lack of external injuries, it must be poison.”
The second man clicked his tongue and turned toward Shailoh. As recognition dawned, her dimmed eyes widened with shock.
“You…”
“Why are you here?”
“…”
The question that should have been hers. Why are you here? She stared up at him, confusion etched across her features while his inscrutable gaze bore down upon her.
“Do you want to live?”
The question ignited something primal within her. She wanted to live. Desperately. Fervently. More than she’d ever wanted anything. She nodded, and he asked again, his voice measured.
“There’s no such thing as kindness without a price. Even if I ask something of you later?”
“Your Highness! That’s dangerous.”
A man addressed him with an unfamiliar title, approaching as if to intervene. Ignoring the warning, the man continued to study her, demanding an answer.
“Choose.”
She knew nothing of this man or his proposition, but she refused to die meaninglessly. Her lips moved, but her crushed throat produced no sound.
“Prince Caleb, we don’t have time. Besides, taking this woman with us is too dangerous…”
Words failing her, she clutched at his pant leg with trembling fingers. Caleb’s throat rumbled with dark amusement as he bent down and, without hesitation, swept her into his arms. As his large hands cradled her shoulders and knees, darkness claimed her once more.
* * *
When Shailoh opened her eyes, she was in an unfamiliar room.
“Where am I…”
Shailoh pushed herself upright, leaning against the headboard. Violet iris wallpaper adorned the walls. A marble fireplace with intricate angel carvings dominated one wall. The bed itself was draped with curtains on three sides. The room exuded opulence yet felt strangely hollow—a beautiful shell devoid of substance.
“Where is this place?”
As she muttered the question, pushing back the covers to rise, the door swung open.
“You’re awake, I see.”
Shailoh’s startled gaze met the room’s owner. Her savior. The same man who had placed a rosario around her neck by the lakeside two years ago, yet had feigned ignorance of their encounter.
“Are you feeling alright?”
He approached with fluid grace and settled confidently on the console at the bed’s head. Before she could respond, his palm pressed against her forehead, checking for fever.
“You don’t seem to have a fever.”
“Who… are you?”
Her voice emerged as a rasp, damaged by her near-strangulation, grating even to her own ears. The man seemed unbothered, offering a gentle smile.
“It’s been a while, Shailoh.”
His smile was fleeting and cold—like February’s final day.
