Chapter 63
There was no need to plot escape like before or resent the mage anymore, making her thoughts simpler.
After walking a bit on the soft, cotton-padded floor, she tried jiggling the doorknob. It was, as expected, firmly locked.
With nothing else to do, she clung to the barred window and looked outside. At least she could see the garden.
It must be around 10 o’clock. She guessed the time by looking at the sky. She was getting hungry.
But knocking on the door probably wouldn’t bring anyone, so she gave up and just kept looking outside when—click—the locked door opened.
“You’re awake.”
Froy had entered, bringing breakfast.
Having been lonely for a while, a feeling of gladness rose in her first. Turning her head with a bright face, she saw Froy furrow his brow slightly and purse his lips.
Because even while trapped, her cute face, so welcoming to him, made a violent urge surge—a desire to bite it to pieces.
“Is it morning?”
Since initiating the conversation, Hermie seemed to have slipped back into her old, comfortable self. Since Froy wanted that, there was no need for her to act awkwardly.
Her gaze drifted to the tray Froy was holding.
On it were a simple meal of soup, bread, fruit, and pastries. The problem was, there was no table or chair.
“Yes. Come sit here.”
Froy carried the tray onto the bed. Was it really necessary to get rid of all the furniture? Hermie sat on the bed, thinking that.
Froy personally fed Hermie pieces of bread. There was only one set of utensils and a fork.
I have my own hands, so why is he going through this trouble? Hermie obediently accepted the bread with a sulky mumble.
“I can eat by myself.”
“I want to feed you.”
“It’s a hassle.”
Grumbling, she opened her mouth, “Ah.” After eating a reasonable amount of bread and soup, Hermie turned her head away.
“I’m finished.”
“Already?”
“Mm.”
Froy got up to clear the tray. Seeing him about to leave, Hermie clung to him.
“Why?”
“Are you leaving? When will you be back?”
“I’ll be back before dinner. Let’s eat together.”
“…It’s uncomfortable eating on the bed.”
Froy brushed back Hermie’s tousled hair. He nodded as if willing to grant anything, which made her ponder for a moment.
Would Froy indulge her requests this time too? Would he still be affectionate? He probably won’t agree if I ask to go outside.
“Are you going to keep the table and chairs put away?”
“Do you need them?”
“It’d be nice to have them…”
“Alright.”
His attitude suggested he would provide anything. Perhaps that was why he had cleared the room out completely—to fill it only with the things Hermie begged for.
“Give me books too!”
“Books?”
“Yes, I’m bored. I’ll wait by reading.”
“Okay. Anything else you need?”
Give me clothes. Let’s go for a walk. She almost said it but stopped herself. That was enough for now. She quietly shook her head.
Froy nodded in understanding and kissed Hermie’s cheek and forehead. After this affectionate farewell, he left the room.
Once Froy was gone, Hermie lay back down on the bed. Amidst the anxiety, her heart was pounding and she felt strangely floaty. It was an emotion she couldn’t quite explain.
Let’s assume Froy was always like that.
‘What about me? What am I trying to do?’
She didn’t know what she wanted. She had come back to beg for Froy’s forgiveness. She realized what he wanted and was acting accordingly.
Yet, she didn’t feel particularly eager to leave. Adrift in an inexplicable sense of security, she felt like a lost wanderer with no bearings.
It felt like floating on a vast, open sea. For now, she let her body sway with the gentle waves and closed her eyes.
Hermie scratched her ticklish side.
‘It’s strange how getting used to being naked feels.’
Was it because of the two months she spent half-naked, without even underwear? Being nude wasn’t all that uncomfortable anymore.
‘But I should still ask for clothes.’
That was a matter of human decency.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, Hermie’s eyes suddenly flew open, “Ah!”
While admiring Froy’s handsome face, seemingly floating in round, fluffy shapes on the ceiling, she finally grasped a clue—about what she should do next, and what it was she truly wanted.
‘I want to be loved… as a person.’
She wanted to be loved person-to-person, not as his collectible or as a fairy in a cage.
Was it presumptuous greed? Froy was a noble, that handsome, a man who seemed to lack for nothing. Would someone like him love a commoner woman like her as a whole person?
“Haa.”
It was a difficult thing. Hermie squeezed her eyes shut. It felt as if sharp shards of glass were rolling around inside her chest.
He was too affectionate, too good to her. But only when Hermie was a collectible in his cage.
That’s why it hurt. His love was warm, but the space where that love shone down upon was so narrow, so barren, and so lonely that it was unbearable.
Hermie wiped the tears streaming down her temples and pressed her lips tightly together. A choked sob leaked out from between her clenched lips.
No matter how hard she tried to suppress the heartache, or how hard she tried to console her own worthless-feeling self, the tears wouldn’t stop.
Because she liked him so much, being inside his cage felt all the more sorrowful.
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.