Chapter 40 Don’t Hurt Me
Delphine watched him, unmistakably.
The sincerity he had hidden deep within his heart was revealed in his eyes.
But he seemed unwilling to admit his true identity until the end.
He forced his lips to twist into a smile.
“… Ouch. The way you speak of your wife in reference to another, I’m afraid you’re a little jealous.”
“Ioan.”
She called his name in a defeated voice, and he pulled her slowly toward him.
Then he whispered in her ear, his voice low and hushed.
“But next time, don’t go anywhere near the barrier. It’s a dangerous and dirty place for you to be near.”
Raising his head, he looked down at her with a cold expression, as if declaring.
“For the time being, you are not to go out.”
Delphine shouted, her expression a mixture of sorrow and anger.
“By what right!”
“By the right of being your husband.”
“There is no right in this Empire for a husband to imprison his wife!”
“Then.”
He spat out, his tone as cold as frost.
“Do you understand me when I say that I have a right to hold your life in trust for your father’s treason, which would have already been cut off?”
Delphine’s face grew pale.
Out of habit, she chewed her lower lip until it bled.
Despite his anger, she instinctively lifted her hand immediately.
A thick index finger dug between her lips.
“Don’t hurt me.”
It was far too deep to prevent biting.
The tip of a manicured fingernail touched her tongue.
The corner of the man’s mouth twitched in anger at the wet, soft sensation.
But Delphine, completely unaware of what she was becoming, clamped the man’s finger in her mouth and glared at him as if to kill him.
The man looked down and let out a small, pained groan.
Glaring at him, Delphine clicked her tongue.
“Try…”
His tongue lightly touched her fingertip as he spoke, and she quickly withdrew her finger, as if afraid he might be overcome by impulse.
“The snowstorm is over now, and you can’t keep me locked up in the manor.”
“Is that so, My Lady…?”
He quipped in a sullen tone, then turned and stalked out of the room.
***
She was sitting in her room, dumbfounded, when she heard a gentle knock on the door.
“… Come in.”
It wasn’t one of her favorite maids who opened the door.
The overly polite-faced maid ruffled her hair and asked, “What is it?”
“The master has asked me to look at your wound.”
“… What if I don’t like it?”
“That’s…”
Then the overly nervous maid’s face became troubled.
A fight here would only get the maid in trouble.
He must have predicted all of this and sent her instead of himself.
Delphine sighed heavily and began to remove her maid’s clothing, piece by piece.
***
Only when the maid had examined every tiny raw spot on Delphine’s body did she retire to prepare a bath.
Exhausted, Delphine immersed herself in the warm water filled with rose-scented oil.
The warm, fragrant water made her feel like she was back in her own world.
Yes, her world smelled like this.
In the water city she was born and raised in.
Clean water gushing out at the turn of a faucet.
Fountains everywhere.
A place where everyone was rich and happy, without the ubiquitous begging lice in the streets.
The Astrax Empire.
… All of this, built on the blood and tears of the people of District 3, exploiting their labor?
Delphine curled up in the water, hugging her knees.
Despite the warm water, she felt a chill.
It was like cold snow pounding against the gaping hole in her chest.
Ioannes.
She wondered if he was living off the wastewater, too?
Knowing all that, he is still loyal to the Emperor who exploits them?
Is he also using that strange black crystal?
Did he borrow its mysterious powers to become a Marquis, so he can magically appear whenever she’s in danger?
What the hell is he…
‘What have you become, Ioan.’
Her body shuddered uncontrollably.
She knew that Ioannes had worked in District 3, and that he had sometimes come home smelling of blood.
But until now, she’d only known that he was subduing forces that threatened the Emperor and the peace of District 1.
Even if his methods were a bit brutal, it had never occurred to her that the end could be wrong…
Long after the water had cooled, Delphine did not emerge from the tub, her head buried in her hands.
***
Late in the morning, when the moon had disappeared through the clouds.
Harley, a terminal knight of the Wall Guard, shivered as he sat in a waiting chair in the hallway in front of the interrogation room.
‘Why isn’t everyone coming out…’
One by one, the men who had already committed the crime with him were called into the interrogation room.
His turn was last.
Harley nervously wrapped his arms around his bandaged thigh and grumbled to himself.
‘Who would have thought that a woman dressed as a maid would be the Marquis Pride’s wife.’
Even he was familiar with the Marquis of Pride’s near-infamous rumors.
‘I’ve heard that he makes no mistakes, even with his own knights, let alone his enemies…’
He honestly expected to be summarily dismissed on the spot.
But after all, even the Marquis wouldn’t punish him unfairly for messing with a woman.
‘Honestly, it’s not a big deal to touch a girl on the street.’
The other three people who were called to the interrogation room and didn’t come out, maybe they were just given a mild reprimand and sent home…
Just as he was calming his nerves with that thought, the door to the interrogation room opened.
“Come in.”
Harley hobbled in, dragging his intentionally exaggeratedly injured leg.
There he was, in a dimly lit room with a faint flickering light.
The Marquis of Pride.
Fortunately, he didn’t look all that angry.
That is, compared to what Harley had seen in the alley yesterday evening.
Harley swallowed hard at the sight of the towering figure, overwhelmingly larger than most men.
“One thing. Have a seat.”
The man’s head tilted upward, and he commanded in a high-pitched voice.
Dragging his legs, Harley sat down in the chair across from the man, and realized that the Marquis had a very fine face for a man of his size.
His white skin and red lips gave him an air of seductiveness, even to the man himself.
‘A devil, a mad dog,’ he thought, ‘but not the kind you’d expect…’
“Harley. Did he say that?”
“Yes, yes. Sir!”
Harley, who had been studying the Marquis’s face in a daze, quickly straightened up.
The Marquis smiled gracefully and asked in a soft tone.
“Did you see?”
Harley asked, stunned by the bottomless question.
“What? I’m sorry. I didn’t understand the question!”
The Marquis’s mouth curled up into a soft smile at the once brusque response.
But his eyes remained fixed on Harley, frighteningly unmoving.
Like a wild beast on the verge of the hunt.
“You have seen,” he said. “My wife’s face… handkerchief was on the floor.”
What?
What a ridiculous question.
After a moment’s hesitation, Harley decided to trust the adage that honesty is best.
There was no point in lying to the Marquis, who had seen the whole thing anyway.
“Yes, I do, but I would never… Ouch!”
Harley clamped a hand over one of his eyes, and he immediately fell off his chair and collapsed.
He was shaking from the pain and terror that had overtaken him in an instant, when he heard his voice, still soft and graceful.
“Again.”
“Akhhhh. Oh, God, help me…”
“Answer me properly when I ask, so that I may have the slightest inclination to show you mercy.”
The words were smooth as silk, and Harley shuddered and stammered.
“Again, again…”
“Who pushed my wife? The man who was interrogated earlier said it was you.”
“Oh, no! I was just… Argh!”
An agonized scream once again echoed through the dark interrogation room.
Harley wrapped his other hand around his shattered left hand and wriggled on the cold floor.
“… Two eyes. Two hands.”
His voice still sounded high above him.
The Marquis’s eyes were as devoid of emotion as they were of inanimate objects as he gazed upon the human writhing in agony at his feet.
“Humans are so symmetrical when you look at them like this, aren’t they?”
He spoke as if he were something other than a human being.
“Akhhhh… Please, please forgive me…”
“Oh, there is one, of course.”
Pride smirked.
He had said he would be merciful if he answered honestly, so he had to keep his word.
He flicked his dagger out with a numbing motion.
Hot blood spurted from the man’s neck.
He had done him a great favor by letting him go without pain.
“Walter.”
Walter, who had been waiting in the next room to the interrogation room, rushed out at his call.
His Lord, an uncannily beautiful man covered in blood, snapped.
“Put that away.”
“Yes, sir.”
The answer was as neat as ever.
Walter soon had his junior knights removing the fourth body from the interrogation room.
“Are you sure my wife didn’t go outside the barrier?”
Pride asked, wiping the blood from his face.
“Yes, sir. There is no record of her entrance or exit, including the name of the maid you mentioned.”
Pride thought for a moment.
