If You Leave Without a Word - Chapter 263

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

“You’re still alive, then, you Amasril woman.”

He was the one who had taken everything from her. That cunning, snake-like face slithered back and forth before her, making her stomach turn. If she could have, she would’ve spat in his face, but she hadn’t eaten in so long that even that was impossible.

Her home, her beloved family, the people she’d lived and laughed with—all of it had vanished in a single day.

Sometimes she wished he’d just killed her alongside Mobishi. For months now, it was a wish she’d repeated over and over, half-curse, half-prayer. He’d killed everyone in Arta, and yet, for whatever reason, she alone had been spared.

She had assumed he would kill her too, but for reasons she couldn’t guess, he kept her alive and brought her to some warehouse. Now, with her arms hoisted and bound above her head, locked away in darkness, Esther could do nothing but think.

Sometimes she felt a wave of loathing for a world that was so unkind to her. Sometimes she sobbed for poor Mobishi. Other times, she poured every curse she knew onto the one who had stolen away what little happiness she’d found.

In the end, she was left with nothing but a hollow emptiness, realizing that all the rage and tears in the world wouldn’t change anything. She was powerless, haunted by her helplessness and the endless string of misfortunes that had befallen her.

“So it’s true, then—the brother and the sister both just refuse to die. Is that stubborn will to live part of your wretched bloodline?”

Brother? Esther’s eyebrows twitched at that.

“Pathetic, lowborn creatures…”

For a moment, the mention of her brother, whom she’d nearly forgotten in her grief, came back to her. She still didn’t know why the man before her had bothered to keep her alive, but one thing was clear.

She knew exactly who he was. On her way here, she’d overheard his knights speak his title.

The Grand Duke.

A brother to the Emperor, related by blood. But why would a Grand Duke of Nikephos come all the way to Arta, leading an army and leaving such a massacre in his wake?

Esther tried to piece together the possibilities, but nothing could truly explain her circumstances.

“So you think your blood is somehow more noble than mine?”

With parched lips, Esther slowly forced out her words. The Grand Duke seemed momentarily surprised to hear her voice.

“I thought you’d gone mute from the shock, since you hadn’t said a word. Seems I was wrong.”

He looked her up and down, a spark of interest in his eyes. Every time his gaze landed on her, Esther shuddered as though bugs were crawling all over her skin. Honestly, being buried in a pile of insects would have been better than being stared at by the man who’d murdered her husband. The disgust was more than she could bear.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

She didn’t expect an answer, but the question burst from her anyway. If she didn’t ask, she felt like her heart would explode from the pressure.

Why? Why do this? Why to me?

“Do I owe you an explanation, woman? Or do you truly think someone like you has the right to question me?”

The Grand Duke’s eyes continued to roam her, as if he was inspecting a piece of property. As wretched and disheveled as she looked, the skin that peeked through the ropes still seemed soft enough to tempt him.

If he cleaned her up and dressed her properly, she might even be considered presentable.

His own mansion was not far away, with a wife as beautiful as any flower, but here he was, eyeing a miserable, bound woman whose husband he had killed.

“Why are you doing this?”

Esther repeated. There was nothing else she wanted to say.

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

The Grand Duke replied, dragging a chair over and sitting down with a heavy thump, sending up a cloud of dust.

“Instead of asking why I did what I did, you should be asking yourself what’s going to happen to you next.”

“…”

“Do you know why I haven’t killed you yet? Want to take a guess?”

“…”

“Because you’re useful to me. It’s as simple as that. If not for your brother, you’d already be writhing in hell alongside your husband.”

You’ll be the one burning in hell. Esther’s eyelids trembling with rage.

“Grand Duke Norfolk. Does the Emperor know about the things you’ve done?”

She made a point of saying his name slowly. If she hoped to see some shock or fear in his eyes, she was disappointed. He just smirked and, as if granting her a favor, actually answered her question.

“Did you really think calling me that would rattle me? That I’d be frightened?”

All she got in return was ridicule. Esther bit her lip in defeat.

“So what if you know my name? What are you going to do about it? Trying to use the Emperor as leverage—how naive. Truly pathetic.”