Chapter 61
The annihilation of her family had happened in an instant. Though Susan didn’t go into details, it seemed that her eldest brother Horace and many relatives had been slaughtered, imprisoned, or sold into slavery.
The other families allied with Hyposis, who had supported the rebellion, suffered the same fate.
But the most surprising thing was that Duke Reiffers was still alive. Cyrone had shattered his eyes but had spared his head. Why was that?
Bang! Bang!
Just as Elia was lost in thought, the door was roughly knocked on, with an unmistakably irritated gesture.
Before Susan and Elia could even look at each other near the door, heavy bootsteps slammed the door open.
“What kind of rudeness is this?”
Susan sprang up instinctively and shouted. The man entering still wore his helmet and carried a spear. He didn’t even bother to unarm upon entering.
But he seemed not to hear Susan’s words and roughly tossed a tray holding fruit and warm rose tea onto the table.
“You need to eat something.”
His voice, muffled behind the helmet, dripped with sarcasm. One of his comrades had lost an arm just for standing guard that night. And yet, here was this woman lying around, accepting food as if nothing happened.
“I’m fine. I won’t eat, so just take it away….”
Elia didn’t even want to look at the tray filled with her displeasure. Despite the knight’s rudeness, she tried her best to respond politely.
“What, should I feed you myself? We’re all about to lose our necks because of you.”
“Hmph… Hey.”
But the man was clearly determined to taunt her. Susan, clearly upset by the man’s attitude, placed her hand on her hip and huffed loudly. The tension between the two, with Elia caught in the middle, sparked sharply in the air.
“Enough. Stop it, Susan.”
Elia recalled how many servants and knights must have paid for their sins while she escaped and got trapped here again. Thinking of them losing their jobs or comrades for no good reason, she didn’t want to stir up unnecessary trouble.
She gently patted Susan’s huffing shoulder and pulled her close. But the man continued mumbling toward Elia.
“You lie around like you don’t know your place. You’re now a daughter of a house lower than commoners.”
Elia’s hand froze midair. Trapped here, she had nearly forgotten her own position. The undeniable truth stabbed sharply at her heart.
“…”
Elia quietly stared at the knight’s face. The man cleared his throat awkwardly, then a cold glare flashed. He grabbed a fork and carelessly offered some fruit to Elia.
“I’m pretty sure I said I wouldn’t eat.”
Elia sharply slapped the hand away. The man’s breath grew harsher, his temper rising.
The knight glared at Elia carelessly. Because of this one woman, all the servants and knights in the underground castle hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep. And here he was, a knight of the underground castle himself, stuck doing these petty errands.
Annoyed, the knight gripped the fork tightly, determined to force her to eat. Amid the push and shove, the sharp tines of the fork grazed dangerously close.
“Miss!”
“Ha…”
A sudden sting of pain shot through Elia. She staggered from the chilling sensation of the blade barely touching her face.
A flush of blood bloomed across her pale skin. The knight, clearly flustered by the situation he’d caused, took a hesitant step back.
“What commotion is this in His Highness’s presence?”
But the knight was unable to flee. Perhaps he was too stunned to anticipate the two shadows standing before him, his mouth hanging open in shock.
Nielsen burst in, shouting orders, his brow furrowed as he looked at the situation.
Feeling dizzy, Elia managed to lift her head. Nielsen spotted her face and hurried over. Though Nielsen urgently called for a doctor, something else caught Elia’s attention.
“Your Highness!”
The knight quickly dropped to the floor, desperate to save himself. Cyrone, seemingly indifferent to the pitiful display, stood silently with his arms crossed and watched.
“The Miss refused to eat, so I made a mistake…”
The knight’s voice trembled as he pleaded for forgiveness. Yet Cyrone showed no reaction, merely looking down at Elia with his usual dry, expressionless gaze.
Cyrone’s eyes slowly traced Elia’s cheek. Her unusually pale skin made the fresh wound stand out vividly.
“You haven’t eaten anything?”
He asked in an unexpectedly gentle voice. Susan thought she should answer on Elia’s behalf but held her lips tight. It was a question meant for only one person.
“Why? Doesn’t it taste good? What don’t you like?”
Elia hastily covered her cheek and turned her head away.
But Cyrone, clearly annoyed at Elia trying to avoid his gaze, forcibly lifted her face. Finally, their gazes intertwined.
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