Chapter 13
Kyrie unconsciously bit her lower lip. Her heart pounded relentlessly. She tried to remain composed, but it was near impossible.
All the while, the conversation continued.
“But isn’t there my sister?”
“You dare bring that mad dog before me?”
“I heard you secretly promised to marry her before…”
“That was before I became lovers with you, my dear Elise.”
“With me?”
“Why would I choose a mad dog when I have you, the proper daughter of Ehrenberg, the one who can meet all my demands?”
A voice, tender and sweet, one she had never heard addressed to her, poured forth.
“I will send a marriage proposal to Erenberg, yes…”
Lexion’s voice was soft and kind.
“But it will be for you, Elise.”
And with that, Kyrie’s remaining life was ruthlessly cast into ruin.
“But then, what about my sister…?”
“I heard she’s being sent to a convent.”
“How pitiful.”
“Not something you or I need to concern ourselves with, is it?”
The mocking words followed. Kyrie closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again.
“Hah…”
She could feel the bones of her clenched fists turn white, but worse was the suffocating sensation gripping her chest.
‘No.’
Kyrie struggled to calm herself. She knew all too well, at least in her head, that panicking or losing her temper would be pointless now.
‘I need to stay calm and think.’
If not the crown prince, was there another option? A man in a position equal to his? Or perhaps an entirely different method? Kyrie desperately tried to devise another plan.
“Please don’t say that. My sister is a pitiable person.”
‘Pitiable?’
Thud.
It felt as though her head echoed from lack of air, like she had just finished sprinting up a steep hill.
‘Poor, unfortunate Kyrie.’
Elise had always spoken of her like that in front of others, looking down as if at something less than human.
“I’m sorry, my ladies. My sister is just… pitiful.”
“She’s long suffered from nerves.”
“She’s a pitifull thing.”
Kyrie knew well those words were never truly meant to sympathize with her. Elise wielded them to crush Kyrie’s spirit whenever she pleased, a deliberate choice by someone who knew how much Kyrie despised being pitied. And every time Elise spoke of pity, her gaze was filled with that same, familiar scorn.
‘My, isn’t Lady Elise so kind-hearted.’
‘It’s no wonder the Duke favors her. Such a good daughter, more precious than his own.’
At the same time, she played the part of the tender girl who mourned even the mother who was poisoned before her eyes, and pitied the alleged murderer. Even Lexion uttered similar nonsense.
“It’s more pitiful and admirable that you put up with that wretch.”
“Your Highness…”
“And so, as you wish, I intend to send a marriage proposal to you, not your sister.”
‘As you wish.’
Meaning Elise had wanted Lexion’s proposal. The girl who could receive marriage offers from any outstanding man, and did, had gone out of her way for this.
‘She planned this.’
Kyrie could no longer deny it. Elise had deliberately approached Lexion, after seeing Kyrie stubbornly cling to him, to steal away her one remaining option.
‘But why?’
She’d known Elise hated her, but never imagined it was enough to block off her only path to survival.
Regret came rushing in all too late. The Duke’s so-called advice from earlier gnawed at her.
‘I should’ve clung to another man.’
Before Lexion fully turned to Elise, she should’ve provoked him, hastened the marriage somehow.
But it was too late for that now.
‘…No.’
Even so, she needed to speak to Lexion one last time. If words wouldn’t reach him, then a slap across his face might at least cool her fury.
“Your Highness.”
Kyrie stepped out from where she’d been hiding, fixing her gaze upon the pair.
“Sister?”
“…Kyrie Erenberg.”
Elise’s eyes widened, and she quickly stepped behind Lexion. As expected, the moment Lexion laid eyes on her, his face twisted in displeasure. He made to speak but only twitched his nose.
“At last, we meet.”
Kyrie’s face was resolute as she began walking toward them. She wasn’t even sure what it was she wanted to do, but there was no suppressing the emotions driving her forward.
Seeing the smile vanish from her face made Lexion’s shoulder twitch.
“Stop right there!”
His shout barely registered in her ears. By then, it truly felt like she would only be satisfied after leaving a scratch across his cheek.
The emotions roiling in her chest rushed forward, tripping over one another, tangling and collapsing in a heap. And then, a frail cry rang out.
“Forgive me, Sister!”
Elise.
The moment Elise said those words and clung to Lexion’s arms, he seemed to decide that Kyrie meant to harm her.
“I told you to stop, you mad dog! Can’t you hear the crown prince speaking?”
Lexion’s furious voice roared through the annex. Several attendants rushed over.
Even a few nobles passing nearby drew close, eager for scandal.
“What’s going on?”
“Heavens, the mad dog again…”
“Lady Ehrenberg! What outrage is this?”
The spectators’ shocked voices mingled in the air.
Lexion was making such a scene that to onlookers it would seem as though Kyrie was threatening Elise and Lexion both.
“Do you even know where you are!”
The absurdity of that made her want to laugh. Was this not a palace annex where any noble granted access to the royal court could come and go freely?
And yet, she’d always been treated this way. As if she belonged nowhere, merely allowed to remain by Lexion’s charity.
‘And yet you were the one who profited most from keeping me close.’
Lexion had used her to fend off every other suitor with ease. The man who despised the cloying cries of women he toyed with and abandoned.
And it was Kyrie who stood in their way, absorbing every insult and slander, clinging to his promises alone.
The voices of those who accused her of driving away the crown prince’s affections, who claimed she made their sisters attempt suicide, the men who glared at her as if they’d kill her.
The whispered words that her obsession had put the prince in danger, they all flashed past her mind.
‘It wasn’t even love I wanted.’
She had wished for one thing only. That he would marry her. And then, divorce her. So that she, too, might have a chance at happiness.
Was that so difficult to ask for?
Kyrie’s heart throbbed heavily at her temples. She no longer even knew what she wanted to do as she mindlessly advanced toward them.
“I told you to get out!”
Somehow, Lexion seemed to feel threatened. He roughly shoved Kyrie aside.
“Ah!”
She tried to keep her balance, but it was impossible. In the next instant, her body was airborne.
The terrace steps stretched far below. The annex, with its lofty ceilings, had a staircase just as steep.
‘I might die.’
And yet, no emotion stirred. Her heart fell into a strange calm.
‘After everything I went through…’
In her fading sight, she saw one last image: Lexion, and Elise in his arms, watching her with a cold, expressionless gaze.
Thud!
“Call…!”
“Your Grace!”
The fierce impact blurred her senses. Only one thought flickered in her mind, that the thing beneath her head felt warmer than stone.
𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ
Kyrie opened her eyes in utter stillness.
‘Ah… Your Highness.’
‘Ha, Elise.’
Not far off, the obscene moans of man and woman mixed in the air. As though they wanted her to hear it.
‘Lexion.’
Kyrie quietly murmured the man’s name as she turned her head. There, she saw Lexion’s face, overcome with lust, devouring Elise’s lips.
‘Poor Sister Kyrie.’
Elise said those words as she offered her lips to Lexion. Kyrie instinctively knew that every act they committed was meant to make a mockery of her. And yet, she couldn’t look away.
Watching the scene with a detached gaze, Kyrie slowly rose to her feet. The anger surging in her chest made it impossible to endure.
She wanted to do something, anything, but she didn’t know what.
Her body’s temperature soared, unbearable even to herself. The rage, grief, and silent screams she’d suppressed reverberated through every inch of her being.
Her senses sharpened. Her chest burned as though set aflame. She wanted to vanish in that blaze.
‘Ugh.’
Kyrie gagged again and again as she tore at her dress, shredding it apart.
‘Hot.’
It was too hot to bear. A scorching heat exploded from within her. Cold sweat broke out at the nape of her neck.
In that moment, a large hand reached out from the darkness, wrapping around her waist.
‘Come here.’
A man’s voice, half-laughing, whispered as he drew her into his arms.
And then, as if to help her, stronger hands than hers began ripping away her clothes.
Rip.
The fabric clinging to her body was torn away with a vivid, brutal sound.
