Chapter 69
‘Really, this is a problem. A big problem.’
The afternoon hours when shadows grow long.
As the bright sun slowly begins to set, long shadows of distracting thoughts seep into a person’s heart.
In a troubled situation like Hermie’s, the shadows of those thoughts inevitably grow even longer.
Just lying there quietly facing him, the curiosity she had been holding back began to leak out.
“What’s going to happen to me now?”
Hermie asked quietly, like a sigh.
“What do you mean?”
Froy asked back, as if he didn’t understand her meaning.
“How long do I have to be punished?”
“…It’s not punishment.”
“It is punishment.”
This is clearly punishment. It’s hell disguised as heaven. It’s poison hidden within sweetness.
That’s why Hermie couldn’t simply be joyful and happy about his intense affection.
“I’m happy when I’m with Froy, and that’s why I feel like I’m going to die.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t believe me when I say I like you. It hurts so much it feels like my heart is tearing apart.”
“……”
“Just don’t forgive me. Get angry. Call me a bad woman. That would be better, I think.”
At Hermie’s harsh words, Froy’s eyes flew wide open. But once again, Froy chose silence.
Hermie was wounded by her own words.
‘Would he really call me that? Does he think I’m a bad woman?’
Hermie’s heart ached with sharp, stabbing pains. A chestnut burr rolled around dejectedly inside her heart.
It was a pain she didn’t think she’d ever get used to. Being next to him made her happy, yet it also hurt like this, making her feel like she was dying.
“You won’t let me go until you get tired of me, right? And once you do get tired, you’ll throw me away, right?”
“Me, throw you away? That won’t happen.”
Froy sat up. Hermie pressed on with her questions, as if urging an answer.
“Then. How long do I have to be punished? How long do I have to stay here?”
He turned his head, hiding his expression. She couldn’t see his face.
What expression was he making? Was he angry? Or maybe smug? Or perhaps, just maybe, was he thinking it over a little? Hermie watched his back and pressed her lips together tightly.
Froy spoke without turning to look at Hermie, his voice cold and frozen.
“I’m taking a break. I’ll go out and come back.”
He fled.
In the space he left behind, Hermie stared blankly at the locked door.
A long time passed, but Froy did not return.
In the late evening, at the sound of a knock, Hermie quickly lifted her head. But Froy was not there; only a tray of food slid in before the door closed again.
Hermie stood before the door and looked down at the tray. She didn’t feel like eating. She wasn’t even hungry.
She waited for him, sitting in front of the door until the sky grew dark.
Late into the night, thinking he might come in, she waited, straining her ears for footsteps in the hallway, not even realizing she was sleepy.
But Froy did not come, even after midnight passed.
Disheartened, Hermie curled up on the floor in front of the door and closed her eyes.|
Had he finally grown tired of her? Was it because she didn’t act like a fairy but clung to him, messy and human, that he’d grown weary?
She felt the crushing pain of her heart collapsing. She felt suffocated, thinking she might actually grow sick and die like this.
***
Even with the padding, a chill rose from the marble floor. It was too cold to sleep in just a thin dress.
She tossed and turned all night, shivering, and only managed to fall asleep near dawn.
“Hermie, what are you doing here.”
An angry voice fell over Hermie. Froy, returning early in the morning, had found her huddled in front of the door.
He scooped Hermie up in his arms. Her body temperature had dropped, and she felt cold.
“Why were you sleeping there?”
“…You didn’t come, so I waited.”
“You’re freezing. What if you catch a cold?”
“……”
He laid Hermie down on the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.
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