Red Riding Hood - Chapter 41

Her room was as small as she was, its entire layout visible at a glance. Yet nothing else caught his eye.

All he could see was her, curled up on a small, worn bed, covered in a thin blanket, sleeping like a baby bird.

There was no red hood, no thick clothing wrapped tightly around her small frame. Her golden hair spilled over the soft pillow like rays of light breaking through a dark sky. Beneath it lay her sleeping face.

Unable to face her directly, he averted his gaze downward.

It was still warm this season, and Cinq had left her arms bare, clutching a single cushion as she breathed softly in her sleep.

He was astonished.

God, to be born a mere cushion and to live such a blessed life! The thought of the worn-out cushion’s fortune left a burning envy in his throat.

Swallowing hard, he cautiously approached her, feeling like a caterpillar dangling precariously from a spider’s web.

His body strained to get closer to her, yet his steps felt as if caught in strands of silk, barely advancing.

By the time he finally reached the head of her bed, his back was drenched in cold sweat. The damp, uncomfortable fabric clinging to his skin crushed what little dignity he had left.

So this was longing.

His yearning was relentless, yet he still questioned:

Cinq, how far would I go to protect you?

Just as he was about to retreat a step, exhausted, her faint movement froze him in place.

“Mm…,” she murmured softly, shifting in her sleep.

He bent down quickly, panicked.

Truly, he had no intention of waking her. Without her permission, he wouldn’t dare touch even a strand of her hair. He didn’t want to startle her, unsettle her, or cause her fear.

He gently reached out and patted her back to lull her into deeper sleep. At his soft touch, her briefly furrowed brow relaxed, and her eyelids fluttered open just slightly.

With a vulnerable smile, one he had never seen before, she murmured,

“An angel…?”

Quiel sighed deeply.

The arduous journey from the doorway to her bedside, a path that had felt like walking through brambles, seemed to dissolve into nothingness.

That tiny smile was enough. This was what he had longed to see.

Quiel smiled back at her. Seeing this, Cinq, still smiling, closed her eyes once more, sinking back into peaceful slumber.

From that moment on, those nights became the happiest times for Quiel—staying by her side as she slept deeply after drinking the sweetened wine.

He gazed freely at her radiant, unbound hair, marveled at her fair, serene face, and let his eyes linger on the soft curve of her exposed arms and pink-tinted hands.

The delicate scent of her skin and the sight of her relaxed, blossoming form beneath the thin fabric tested his restraint, but he endured.

His longing was like a finely spun disc of pure gold—perfect in its form yet so fragile that the slightest misstep would shatter it. He had to handle it with utmost care.

Around that time, the wretched brothel keeper began to notice his feelings for Cinq.

Like her foolish townspeople, who excelled at wickedness yet failed in anything virtuous, Vinya was dull but swift when it came to securing her own profit.

The wicked woman was determined to get the highest price for Cinq’s first ‘customer’.

A customer…

The word alone twisted Quiel’s stomach and made him nauseous. Yet it was something he had to endure.

He played the role of a lust-driven man, eager to claim her, yet miserly enough to hesitate at the cost. He played this part for what felt like an eternity. His desire was as relentless as ever.

But at last, there was a breakthrough.

Six, the poor, sickly harlot, became the turning point.

Quiel weighed everything carefully.

Cinq’s love for Six. Vinya’s cruelty toward the pitiable woman. The impact Six’s death would have on Cinq.

Would Cinq still obey Vinya after Six’s death?

She needed to realize there was an easy way to escape her brothel keeper.

After Six’s death, Quiel prepared a new wine.

He mixed the wine with a higher alcohol content, extract of blood-red thistle, juice from the menacing white umbrella serrate flower, and a trace of mandrake root powder.

The thistle extract, known for its anti-inflammatory and hemostatic properties, would act as a stimulant to quicken the blood.

The white umbrella serrate flower, a remedy for pain-related illnesses, would excite the brain.

And mandrake—

That mystical ingredient, with its powerful hallucinogenic and hypnotic effects, had to be handled with extreme care. But tonight, it would give Cinq the courage to sin.

Finally, Quiel added sweet honey to the wine, shaking the bottle gently—a deliberate touch to ensure she drank more of it.

And then…

His devilish plan succeeded.