Chapter 2 A Nightmare
Red blood gushed out like a fountain with a terrible sound like the wind being deflated in a balloon.
Higher than a man twice her height. Enough to reach the chandeliers in the hall.
Delphine forgot to breathe for a moment. Everything in front of him was bathed in red.
The scream didn’t come from her.
Anna’s scream made the man turn his head slowly, wiping the blood off his sword with an impassive face.
When their eyes met, his calm brown eyes widened slightly.
In that moment, Delphine’s mind strangely flashed back to the day she first met Ioan.
He was in a pool of blood then, too.
But even in her dazed state, Delphine could tell.
Everything had changed, except for those brown eyes looking back at her.
“…Oh.”
He looked startled for a moment, then expressionless again and stomped over to her.
“No, no, no, not my baby, get away from me, you freak!”
Screaming, Anna bravely stood in Delphine’s way.
The man glanced at the old nanny, then at Delphine.
“It is impossible for me to keep them all alive. Besides this woman, is there anyone else who must be spared?”
Delphine did not know how to answer such a cruel question.
If he had asked her differently, who she would kill, she would have ended up with no answer.
But the urgency of the situation forced her mouth to rush out the names of those she loved.
“Anna, Wilson, Mac, Carol, Betty. And…”
“That’s it.”
He drew a line in the sand, devilishly cold.
“Do not leave this hall. You have been warned.”
He brushed past her, slamming the door to the hall shut behind him.
Brak-.
Delphine remained frozen for a moment, staring at the ceiling, not daring to turn her head.
The chandelier with her father’s blood on it.
If she lowered her gaze even slightly, she would see her father’s torso, still bleeding from his severed neck.
At the thought of it, she couldn’t move.
She wonder how much time has passed.
Suddenly, through the rattling and rattling in her head, she heard her father’s firm voice: Delphine Pembroke.
Delphine Pembroke. Keep your gaze clear.
Straighten your back everywhere!
You have responsibilities as a noblewoman.
And then, Del, she heard her mother’s soothing voice.
Del, where your gaze is directed is your path.
You must always remember that you have noble blood in your veins.
Delphine suddenly felt her fingertips tingle with power.
‘…Yes, I am Delphine Pembroke.’
She’s a noble, the owner of this mansion.
She was responsible for the estate and its occupants.
Delphine squeezed her eyes shut tightly and turned towards the door.
“No, Lady, no, no!”
Anna quickly hugged her to stop her.
“I-I’m not Baby. It’s Delphine Pembroke.”
Her voice shook with emotion.
Biting her lower lip so hard it bled, Delphine spoke, her voice a little clearer this time.
“I am Delphine Pembroke.”
That alone was reason enough for her to muster up the courage to step out of these doors.
She struggled to open the velvet-trimmed door to the hall.
It wasn’t easy, as her hands, drenched in sweat and shaking, kept losing the handle.
After a few tries, she finally turned the knob and opened the door.
And then the moment.
Delphine gasped at the horrific sight before her.
The floor, walls, and ceiling of the corridor were all covered in blood.
She gulped at the hellish scene and heard Anna faint and fall to the floor.
In one corner of the hallway, Wilson was crouched, shivering.
‘How long did I hesitate in the hall?’
It must have been a short time, but she had lost all sense of time.
It seemed like an eternity as she locked eyes with Ioannes.
“Up, Wilson. Wilson.”
Wilson screamed like a tortured man as Delphine staggered over and shook him out of his stupor.
“Help me, sir, help me!”
“Wilson, come to your senses, where is he, where is Ioan?”
“The devil, I don’t know. I don’t know! Don’t ask me, please…”
Wilson’s mind didn’t come back to him for a moment.
Delphine bit her lip so tightly it bled.
The smell of blood that had greeted her as soon as she opened the door was driving her insane.
She’d rather faint.
‘No, Delphine Pembroke. Can’t you keep your wits about you?’
Delphine whipped herself into a frenzy of sobs and tore at the sleeve of her dress with her teeth to cover her nose.
It couldn’t have been that long.
He must still be in this mansion.
“Ioann! Come out here! Is anyone here?”
It was like walking through hell.
Delphine dragged the survivors out of the mansion, past the pools of blood and fallen bodies.
There were only six in all.
Delphine herself, Wilson, and four faithful maids whom she called by name.
The man was not in the mansion.
Just then, a bloody pocket watch fell from Wilson’s arms as he clutched at his head in a frenzy.
Four forty-four.
Looking at it, Delphine realized that only ten minutes had passed since she had left the room.
“No, no, no…”
There were at least seventy people in the mansion.
So many people, in this sprawling mansion, so quickly, and they were gone?
Delphine sank to the floor and gazed in disbelief at the massive mansion.
Pembroke Manor had been turned to hell in an instant.
A few moments later, a messenger from the imperial court arrived.
The Earl of Pembroke had been summarily disposed of by the Emperor’s envoy, accused of treason.
And herself?
As the daughter of a traitor, she too deserved to die.
“The disposition of this mansion and of you has passed to Lord Pride.”
Lord? Lord Pride?
“Lord…?”
“Lord Pride, did you not receive the title of Marquis from His Majesty the Emperor a year ago?”
A year ago?
How does a slave become a Marquis in this caste system?
Even if it was true, there was no way she hadn’t heard about it.
She looked up at the man, her face contorted with confusion and pain, but the emperor’s messenger was as expressionless as a doll.
He looked down at her, his face impassive.
“Lord Pride has demanded your hand in marriage as a reward for suppressing this rebellion. The wedding is in two days.”
A flat, casual tone.
As if he were announcing a restaurant reservation.
The heartlessness of it made her chuckle.
Delphine threw back her head, looked at the sky, and burst out laughing like a madman.
What a farce.
Lord Pride?
That surname had been given to her in the past.
To the very slave who cut her father’s throat.
***
From somewhere, she heard an animal howl.
Delphine, strolling through the garden, looked up suddenly.
She was twelve years old and feeling very good in her newly tailored pink silk dress.
But somewhere beyond the garden, she kept hearing a low mooing sound.
Was it a dog? A cow? A cat? It was definitely not a cat.
Delphine, ever the curious child, moved towards the sound, even though she thought it was frightening.
It was coming from the stables.
Could that be a horse? But horses don’t cry like that.
Careful not to get any mud or horse manure on the hem of her new dress, the young girl grabbed the skirt and headed for the stables.
And there she found something very unexpected.
In an empty stable, without a single horse, stood her father.
“Father…?”
Delphine cocked her head.
He was whipping a beast that crawled across the stable floor.
Was that a chicken?
Funny, Delphine thought at the time.
She had seen the cook catch a chicken once before.
The bird had been plucked of all its feathers, and its patchy white skin was disgusting.
She’d heard that they bat them around to tenderize the meat.
But it was big for a chicken. What about a turkey?
That’s when it crawled forward to avoid her father’s slap.
It was only when he saw its long, white limbs that Delphine realized it was human.
For a moment, the blood in her veins froze cold.
Its back was unrecognisably tattered with human skin, and its dirty blond hair was matted with blood.
Delphine’s heart pounded rapidly and her head spun.
Her hands trembled as she clutched the hem of her skirt.
At that moment, her father, who had been whipping him, his face red and sweaty, found her in the doorway.
“What are you doing here!”
Delphine flinched at the thunderous outburst, but she couldn’t look at her father.
Because the thing-or rather, he…-had raised his head as the spanking ceased.
His brown eyes locked with hers.
She couldn’t make out his size because he was crouched, but he looked to be a boy, three or four years older than her.
His brown eyes traveled down to her red hair in a fine braid, her pink silk dress, and the shiny toe of her bronze shoes.
In a pit of mud and horse manure, crumbs from the hay the horses ate, and his own blood.
The boy looked up at the girl’s dazzling form.
