Backstage Trap - Chapter 7

“If I said… the thought never crossed my mind, I’d be lying.”

“And yet?”

Killian’s gaze settled on that barely-there smile. Closing her eyes slowly, she let out a voice as soft as the wind.

“I guess I’m getting old. I don’t have the strength to fight anymore.”

“You?”

Killian let out a dry chuckle. Lucia answered in a voice as calm as the surface of a still lake.

“Looks aren’t everything.”

It was right. To anyone else, Lucia was still young and beautiful. But her eyes looked like a flower already beginning to wither.

“When I was in my teens… in my twenties… there were so many things I wanted to do…but before I knew it, I’d reached this age without accomplishing any of them.”

Those were the eyes of people worn down by a life of endless hardship. Even in the brightest city at night, her eyes held no light.

“Now, even if I wanted to do something…I’m just too tired. I only want to rest.”

Her head lowered like a wilted blossom falling from its stem.

As though reaching back toward a distant memory, Lucia absently traced her fingertips across her face.

Looking more closely, Killian noticed a scar running across her cheek, as though it had been carved there by a blade.

Whether it was hidden beneath makeup or softened by the darkness, it appeared little more than a faint mark to him. Yet the woman stroked it obsessively.

“I don’t even want to wear pretty clothes anymore. I only want something comfortable….Meeting people is exhausting…And the dreams I had when I was young…”

She let out a small, self-mocking laugh.

Then her hand finally fell away from the scar, as though she were abandoning the last trace of lingering attachment.

“Maybe…Growing up is just another way of letting time wear you away.”

For a moment, her eyes drifted toward a theater across the street.

<The Next Film from the Flower of the Silver Screen, Emilia Florianne!>

The glamorous blonde smiling from the enormous billboard had a familiar face.

Once, she had dreamed that her own face would hang there someday.

“You? An actress? How many times do I have to tell you? Your duty is to have children!”

“You’re married to me now, yet you still want to work? Hmm… Lucia, do you really need to do something so difficult? I don’t want you exhausting yourself. Besides… we’ll have another child eventually. You should focus on taking care of yourself.”

“She doesn’t even know how to do anything, so why does she keep trying to leave the estate? Every time she goes out, Young Master Ian becomes so irritable.”

Bit by bit, the words of those around her had ground her dreams into dust… Until they became something that no longer belonged to her at all.

Each passing day had become too heavy for her to carry. There was no room left to want anything more.

“I don’t even remember what kind of person I used to be. I don’t think… I was always like this…”

Time could be cruel. It led people toward death so quietly that they never realized they were dying. It was a silent murder that came slow enough to go unnoticed. But swift enough to steal everything.

And someone who no longer remembered who they were could no longer carry light in their eyes.

“So, I think that’s why.”

“…”

“I’m just too tired. I want to rest now.”

A resigned smile settled over her pale face.

Yes. There was nothing grand about it. She simply wanted to rest. So there was no need for him to look at her with that expression.

Lucia climbed onto the ledge.

Balanced on the fragile boundary between life and death. As if acknowledging the choice she’d already made, a fierce gust of wind surged up behind her.

She swayed back and forth. In the merciless wind, she looked as though she might disappear at any moment. It was an unsettling sight.

Before he even realized it himself, Killian reached out toward her.

At that exact instant—

Bang!

A gunshot split the night. The man’s eyes flew wide open.

“Hey!”

His shout came a heartbeat too late. Spinning around, he saw a stranger standing there, a gun aimed straight at Lucia.

The impact came with an explosion of agony. For a fleeting instant, light burst across Lucia’s vision. Time seemed to slow.

“Ah…”

Was it her heart…? No… just beside it…? But… who shot her? She can’t make out his face…

Did someone hold a grudge against her? Or… did they mistake her for someone else…?

‘I’m not even worth killing… I need permission just to leave the house…’

As rapidly as the blood poured from her body, her thoughts raced. So did her vision. The force of the bullet sent her backward, turning her world upside down.

Above her stretched a night sky scattered with countless stars.

It was the moment of her death.