MBYS 22

Chapter 22

A faded red dragon roared, spreading its wings as though it were about to leap right off the texture of the rough parchment.

The dark red pigment had been gnawed away by the passage of time and peeled off in patches, but its ferocious, intimidating aura remained as vivid as if it were alive.

Eveline looked down at the crest for a long moment.

The sunlight filtered through the greenhouse ceiling rested in a yellowish hue upon the surface of the parchment, and only the sound of a flower petal dropping somewhere to the floor quietly pierced the silent stillness.

When she unfolded the cover, the stiffly dried parchment made a sound as if it were about to crumble.

The musty scent of ink holding a long age bit sharply and vividly into the sweet fragrance of the flowers. It was a record of a life dedicated by someone, a scent condensed across eons of time.

The densely written sentences in archaic language were difficult enough to read to make her squint, but the weeks of reading accumulated in Kailus’s study provided the clues for deciphering them.

The first page.

[A record concerning the curse placed upon the Northern Grand House.]

Her heart skipped a beat with a jolt.

Eveline knelt down on the floor beside the bookshelf. The damp chill of the soil pierced through the fabric of her dress and touched her kneecaps, but she paid it no mind. Spreading the ancient manuscript across her knees, she read, tracing the printed letters with her finger.

The Curse of the Red Dragon.

A cruel punishment in which magic, impossible to handle with the vessel of an ordinary human being, endlessly multiplied through the bloodstream and ruthlessly gnawed away at the five viscera and six bowels.

It had been passed down through generations to the men of the Grand Duke’s family, and most of the recorded heads had lost their lives before reaching the age of thirty. Some were written to have gone mad and died from magical explosions, while others were found as cold corpses in their beds after their blood vessels burst.

Her finger stopped over the printed text. Her heart constricted.

The true nature of the agony Kailus endured every night, gritting his teeth, was stamped upon this parchment in heavy, dry ink.

A punishment nailed down from birth.

A curse with no exit to escape.

She turned the page.

[Regarding the lifting of the curse.]

Her eyes chased the printed text, forgetting even to breathe.

[When the vessel that inherited the curse is destroyed by itself, the source of the curse is extinguished as well.]

Her hand stopped.

Her gaze embedded itself onto the text and refused to move. The warm air of the greenhouse still wrapped around her skin, yet a chill crept up her spine.

If the vessel breaks, the curse vanishes along with it.

A chill settled over her as if she had swallowed whole a cup of sharp, icy water. Yet, ironically, the inside of her chest settled more coldly and lucidly than ever before.

The days she spent curled up on a dark floor in the Count of Roa’s estate, absorbing the horrific illnesses of the nobles in their stead.

The death she would have met back then would have meant nothing to anyone. A flimsy life that would have been crushed valueless and forgotten like an old rag discarded by the roadside.

However, now it was different.

‘If some use remains even after I die, then it means I won’t be thrown away.’

Ten months.

That short number weighed down upon her heart with an entirely different gravity. On the day Edwin sentenced her to a limited lifespan, it was nothing more than a miserable reprieve awaiting the day of death.

But now, a single old sentence was turning that meaning completely upside down.

Exhaling the hot breath she had suppressed, Eveline hurriedly turned to the next page. However, her pale fingertips holding the parchment stopped in an instant.

The next page, where the most crucial truth should have been written, had been entirely torn out. It was a trace unmistakably torn away by someone intentionally.

‘Who? Why?’

Only a sentence cut short at the waist dangled awkwardly across the page.

[However, the above clause is a last resort. Other ways──]

“Other ways……”

It meant that another solution besides self-destruction existed. However, the page containing those details was impossible to verify.

Eveline breathlessly scanned through all the remaining pages, as if determined not to miss a single character. But not a single clue hinting at the torn-out contents remained anywhere in the book.

The handwriting filling the entire book was clearly that of a single person. However, the ink stain smudged on the torn edge had a subtly different density from the other pages.

Eveline quietly closed the book. The red dragon carved onto the aged parchment cover stared wide-eyed straight up at her.

After quietly meeting that bizarre gaze for a while, Eveline soon tucked the ancient manuscript firmly deep inside the front of her dress, hiding it away.

Eveline lightly brushed the soil from her knees and slowly stood up.

Her legs, numb from lack of circulation, staggered, but she managed to balance herself by leaning against the shelf.

When she pushed open the glass door and stepped outside, the bitter, biting gale of the north lashed mercilessly at her face. The sweet breath of spring that had been warming her body until just a moment before scattered away into pieces like a lie.

The corner of the ancient manuscript firmly tucked inside her dress pressed heavily just below her ribs with every step she took.

Eveline’s pace as she walked down the corridor was noticeably slower than usual.

‘When the vessel that took the curse upon itself is destroyed by itself……’

The moment she turned the corner, she ran into Lily.

“My Lady, I have prepared some snacks.”

It was a bright voice. However, Eveline did not miss Lily’s gaze lingering for a split second near her chest area.

“Thank you. Could you bring it to my room?”

Lily lowered her head and walked ahead. Light footsteps tapped rhythmically against the floor of the corridor. Eveline’s eyes grew chillingly cold as she watched that back.

She accurately memorized the spot where Lily’s gaze had landed. The left side of her chest, the point where the corner of the ancient manuscript would have protruded.

The existence of this ancient manuscript must not leak out to this child. Neither to Kailus, nor to Lily’s master behind the scenes.

Not yet.

As soon as she entered the room, Lily set down the snacks and withdrew. Using the sound of the closing door as a signal, Eveline pulled out the ancient manuscript she had hidden inside her dress.

Briefly weighing its heavy feel, she shoved the book deep into the innermost drawer. It was a secret space that Lily’s hands had never once touched.

A tension taut enough to be incomparable to when she set up the paper trap a few days earlier lingered at her fingertips.

She stacked notebooks and writing utensils layer upon layer on top of it, completely erasing the traces of the book. Turning away after closing the drawer, Eveline’s gaze drifted out the window.

Before she knew it, the winter sun was setting early.

Eveline leaned against the windowsill and looked down at the snow-covered garden. In the distance, the glass roof of the greenhouse captured the setting sunlight, undulating in a brilliant golden hue.

Kailus strictly kept the words he had spoken out of his own mouth.

Once every three days. As if to prove that cool promise, he intentionally kept his distance from Eveline, save for meal times, and rarely showed his face. He had granted her a complete respite so she could fully recover.

On the third night, when a faint warmth finally began to permeate Eveline’s bloodless, pale cheeks.

There was a nighttime summons from Kailus.

When she opened the door to his bedchamber, the firelight from the hearth was slicing the darkness in orange hues. The crackling sound of burning firewood quietly filled the silent room.

Kailus was sitting perched on the edge of the bed. His brow was deeply furrowed, and strength was tightly coiled into his jawline.

She could see him pressing his temple with one hand. The magic accumulated over three days was unmistakably turning back into headaches and tinnitus.

“Come here.”

It was a short utterance. Eveline approached and sat down beside him. She naturally clasped Kailus’s hand.

Through their touching palms, rough magic surged like a waterfall. As she bit down on her lower lip as if to crush it in order to swallow a scream, a cool cold sweat flowed smoothly down her temple.

Yet she did not loosen the strength in her hand. Previously, she had held on with the sheer will to endure. Today was different. She was holding on with the purpose to draw it out. As long as she accepted this, this man could sleep.

Kailus’s rough breathing gradually deepened.

His stiffened shoulders relaxed, and his furrowed brow smoothed out evenly. The tension that had been gripping his entire body receded like an outgoing tide. Holding Eveline’s hand, Kailus’s eyes closed.

He fell asleep.

Eveline looked down at the sleeping Kailus.

The light of the burning hearth flickered softly over the man’s sharply chiseled face.

Following the curves of the warmly spreading light, the ferocious facade of the northern ruler, which had always been sharp as frost, helplessly faded.

And over that spot, the lingering image of a boy who had been her sole salvation by holding out a single sweet pastry to her—a young self covered entirely in wounds—faintly overlapped.

Black hair tumbled over Kailus’s forehead. Without realizing it, Eveline reached her hand out toward his forehead. Yet the distance to his hair was barely the span of a single finger joint.

Unable to close that short gap, she withdrew her hand.

Yet she couldn’t bear to pull away her gaze.

Staring at the hair on the sleeping man’s forehead that her hand could not reach, the sentences of the ancient manuscript resurfaced in her mind.

‘If I die……’

By my extinction, this man will gain eternal freedom. The headaches gnawing at his sleep, the tinnitus grating at his nerves, and the storm of magic scorching his blood vessels will torment him no more.

Eveline’s lips parted slightly.

In the end, no sound emerged. Yet beneath the red light and shadow of the burning hearth, only the silent contours of her lips flickered like a poignant confession.