Chapter 131
Only Ragnar saw through Theogrim’s vulnerability, his every action.
Ragnar was the one who held Theogrim’s past and future, all his light and darkness, in his hands.
Theogrim wanted to catch up to Ragnar, to surpass him, and at the same time, more intensely than anything else…
‘Rzel. My Rzel.’
He wished for his disappearance.
So that, in the Rosenburg domain, which would be entirely his, he could claim Arzeletta without any threat.
Theogrim raised his head. He looked up at Ragnar, who had reached the top of the stairs first.
At this moment, Ragnar, standing at the top of the stairs, appeared larger and taller than ever.
“My Lord…”
It was unprecedented. Ragnar turned around. The beautiful young man, following his shadow, was looking at him and asking.
“If Your Lordship’s power… were to attempt to destroy Your Lordship. Then what would you do?”
If he were to waver. If the man who seemed utterly unshakable were to lose himself.
“What would you do if you realized… you were committing a sin?”
Theogrim asked. It was, in fact, the question he had wanted to ask all along.
Ragnar looked down into Theogrim’s eyes. There was an unfamiliar sincerity in the heir’s violet gaze.
It was different from his usual demeanor, which was like a finely sculpted marble statue inlaid with jewels, revealing no human emotion. Ragnar did not point this out. Instead, he gave an honest answer.
“I would have to pay the price.”
“……”
“I will not flee from the suffering that is my due, Theogrim.”
Theogrim quietly swallowed.
It was because Ragnar’s gaze, looking down at him from above, was more intense than he had ever seen.
Ragnar then turned and walked away. His receding steps were as resolute as ever.
Finally, having ascended the stairs, Theogrim gazed at the spot where Ragnar had disappeared.
Theogrim had a premonition.
That something he didn’t know was demanding a price from Ragnar.
Sin was by Ragnar’s side.
“Arzeletta…”
Yoseph called Arzeletta.
Inside the slaughterhouse, his Arzeletta was moving silently in the faint darkness.
A fresh scent of water came from Arzeletta’s cleanly washed body. Even amidst the slaughterhouse air, permeated with the thick smells of blood and iron, the scent of water emanating from Arzeletta was uniquely distinct.
Her carefully brushed long hair glittered in the moonlight filtering through the small window. Yoseph touched the back of his hand to Arzeletta’s long, black hair. It was a careful touch, as when feeling precious silk.
But soon, Arzeletta’s long hair was hidden beneath a black veil.
“Ah…”
Yoseph hesitated, then withdrew his hand from her hair, now covered by the veil.
Soon, Arzeletta picked up the tray bearing the offering. The series of tasks—preparing the offering, personally holding the tray, and covering herself with the veil—were all familiar to her fingertips.
“Arzeletta.”
Yoseph called her again. It was a flat tone. A call that seemed uttered helplessly, as if at a loss for what to do.
At Yoseph’s call, Arzeletta lifted her head from beneath the veil. Yoseph swallowed. Even through the silhouette revealed beneath the black veil, her beauty was strikingly clear.
“I’ll be back, Yoseph.”
Arzeletta smiled from beneath the veil.
Leaving Yoseph standing as if he had become the darkness of the slaughterhouse, or a part of its very air, Arzeletta turned and walked away.
Left alone, Yoseph blinked his bovine, earnest eyes.
The place she was headed was the Lord’s private chambers, the very heart of the great Rosenburg domain.
…His Arzeletta answered the Lord’s call every night.
Moonlight streamed through the sharply pointed window.
The pattern of the red stained glass, fractured precisely, and the way the moonlight shattered onto the black marble floor, were now somewhat familiar.
Rustle, something slipped from Ragnar’s large, wide bed. Like a shadow, black and secretive, it was the maid’s clothing.
“Ugh, mm…”
Arzeletta writhed beneath the man’s body. As if responding to the man who was kissing her deeply, she lifted her chin.
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