Chapter 13
So that’s how it is. She remained quiet, as if merely listening to someone else’s story.
What became of Wilkeron was none of her concern. It was nothing more than a place that had given her wounds and nothing else.
Siren had not forgotten the maids who had struck her as they passed by. No, it was closer to saying she could not forget.
The faces that had poured dirty water over her head, laughing gleefully—she kept remembering them, over and over and over again…
“As the last surviving member of the Wilkeron dynasty, you will be involved in the entire process.”
“I… will?”
Faced with such an unexpected statement, Siren could only ask in confusion. Surely, at this point, her opinion wasn’t of any importance.
“I heard that Yasamin has formed a subjugation contract with you.”
Eltan let out a quiet sigh and pushed up his glasses.
“To be honest, the easiest choice would have been to dispose of you here—or simply set you free. But given the circumstances, there’s no way around it now.”
Of all things, she had to have blue eyes.She heard Eltan mutter those words under his breath.
Hesitantly, she brushed the skin beneath her eyes. Just what was it about these blue eyes that made everyone comment on them?
How had they managed to keep her alive?
“When you arrive in the South, you will formally undergo the subjugation contract ceremony. You may not understand it yet, but forming a contract with Yasamin is an immense honor. Wherever she goes, you must follow. Eventually, you will hold a position where your words carry weight.”
That wasn’t what she wanted. Dealing with people was uncomfortable.
But if she had to wear such a title in order to survive…
“Um. I heard that a subjugation contractor holds a higher status than a wife.”
“That’s correct. In the South, the concept of marriage is faint. It exists, but for the most part, people live as master and subjugate. In the Southern tongue, it is called ‘Diet.’”
“Diet.”
She didn’t fully understand it yet, but this was now the land she had to live in. The culture of heretics that her father had despised so much.
“We… need to make something of you, somehow. For starters, that lack of confidence won’t do.”
“Y-yes.”
“And your speech. Why do you even use honorifics? You were raised as a princess.”
That—there was nothing she could do about that. Siren had been taught not to speak unless absolutely necessary.
Her father had ordered that anyone who spoke to her must use honorifics, no matter what they had to say. It had become second nature to her.
She didn’t know how to speak informally. She wasn’t the kind of ‘person’ who was allowed to.
“We’ll work on your speech over time… but this won’t do. Straighten your back.”
At his disapproving tone, Siren tensed and sat up properly.
Even if she was considered a disgrace to the royal family, she had still attended etiquette lessons. She had learned through beatings, so she knew what she was supposed to do.
But she had long since grown used to hunching her shoulders, and holding herself with grace did not come easily.
“We’ll also need to tidy up your hair before we arrive. With it covering your entire face, I can’t tell if it’s hair or vines.”
Why did everyone in the South insist that she tie her hair back?
The request was so different from everything she had known until now that it unsettled her. She wasn’t even sure if she was allowed to.
Angelique hated revealing her face. She always demanded to grow her hair long to cover it. She did so in order not to go against it.
Having lived that way her whole life, she didn’t even realize it was uncomfortable.
In fact, showing her face like others did felt almost like something she should never do, like a criminal act.
“U-um…”
“When you speak, don’t trail off. It’s easy to look down on you.”
“Yes, so, I’ll… I’ll try.”
She spoke in a stammer, as fear had taken over her, and the words she wanted to say lingered in her mouth. It was difficult, but Siren managed to force out the one word she could promise.
“I’ll try.”
“Not a bad word. Keep doing that.”
For the first time, satisfaction appeared in Eltan’s eyes.
It was then, when she felt as though she had passed a major test and let out a sigh of relief.
“Ahhhhhh!!!”
A scream pierced through the gap in the barracks’ entrance.
‘What.’
Frozen in confusion, another scream followed by a shout echoed like thunder.
“It’s a mutation!!! It’s been infected!!!”
“There’s a traitor!”
Infected?
“Damn.”
Siren widened her eyes at Eltan’s curse that slipped out.
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