“Ugh.”
Standing in front of the mirror, Milena winced as she applied medicine to her wound.
“What a clean cut.”
Compared to the child’s injuries, this was nothing. Ashdel was covered in bruises. Milena had just returned after applying medicine to his wounds.
She had forcibly taken various ointments from the doctor, who had fussed over her injuries without even checking on the child. Now that preparations for the wedding were underway, the servants had become cautious in their treatment of her. It was inevitable—everyone was certain that Milena would become the Grand Duchess.
But that didn’t matter to her. She was only thinking of escaping from this place.
“I don’t have much time. Should I give up…?”
She was running out of time to find the oath document. Even if she had to flee and suffer the curse for breaking the marriage vow, she didn’t care. She had already accepted the worst-case scenario—even if it meant she’d be left with a limited time to live.
But should she take Ashdel with her?
She was deep in thought when—
Knock, knock.
A knock echoed through Milena’s room—something that never happened.
“At this hour?”
She had just finished bathing, her damp skin barely covered by a thin, slip-like nightgown. She hastily wrapped a thick shawl around herself and spoke in a wary voice.
“Who is it?”
Silence.
Knock, knock.
The knock came again, still without a response. Milena’s expression hardened as she raised her voice.
“I was sent by His Grace, the Grand Duke.”
Lexion?
Recognizing the familiar voice, she instinctively reached for the empty candlestick as a weapon, but hesitated.
“Milady? Would you please open the door?”
“Ah, just a moment.”
“Since when did he ever bother with manners when he usually barges in without a sound?”
She glanced at the candlestick, then placed her hand on the doorknob.
Click.
The door barely opened when—
“What is it? Earlier—Mm!”
A black-gloved hand suddenly shot through the gap, covering her mouth.
“Good evening, my lady.”
Her eyes widened.
“Did you hear someone else’s voice? Heh. You must have trusted them enough to open the door without hesitation.”
The grip on her face was so strong it felt like her bones might shatter. She struggled, glaring fiercely at the man, but he misunderstood her intent.
“Hmm, are you curious how I spoke in another’s voice? There are ways, you see. Heh.”
She thrashed in an attempt to free herself, but it was useless.
The surprise attack left her momentarily stunned, but before she could process it, the man snapped his fingers with his free hand.
“It’s true that His Grace sent me.”
Snap.
The sound of his fingers echoed, and the light in her green eyes faded.
“Shall we go? I have something to show you.”
All strength drained from her body, and the shawl draped over her shoulders slipped to the floor. The hooded man turned away, releasing his grip.
Milena, now moving against her will, followed him as if in a trance—like someone afflicted by sleepwalking.
They walked for some time until the man pulled a silver goblet from his robe and spilled its contents onto the floor. He muttered something under his breath, and the blood droplets twisted and dispersed, forming a magic circle.
At the end of a long, empty corridor—one that had previously been blocked by a solid stone wall—a massive stone door emerged.
“His Grace is aware of your impure intentions.”
Without a sound, the door swung open, and the man pushed Milena inside.
“Escape? That won’t be happening.”
She stepped forward against her will, and the door slammed shut behind her with a resounding boom.
“If you see an unpleasant truth, your defiance will break. Heh. Despair and resign yourself—there’s no leaving this place.”
The man knelt on the floor, activating another magic circle that manipulated memories. As the magic spread successfully, his face twisted with delight.
But his smug expression didn’t last long.
“Hmm? What’s this?”
A voice—one that didn’t belong—pierced through the space behind him.
“Guh!”
Before he could react, he felt a presence looming behind him—so close he hadn’t even noticed.
“I was wondering who had the nerve to lay a hand on my lady.”
Lexion grabbed the back of the man’s neck. This time, he didn’t kill outright. Instead, he merely tightened his grip, slowly constricting his airway.
“A sorcerer? A dark magician?”
With a surge of power, Lexion nullified all the magic the enemy had spread around them. The hooded man’s body went limp as if his nerves had been severed.
“A puppet.”
It was a mage’s creation—so lifelike, it even had warm skin and breath.
Who had given it life?
A closer look revealed traces of a high-ranking magician’s work. He needed to track the source immediately, but there was something more urgent.
He had to save Milena.
Even with the magic nullified, the spell affecting her still hadn’t stopped. Without hesitation, Lexion pushed open the stone door.
No matter what kind of magic it was, he was confident he could break it.
But then—he froze.
His arrogance shattered in an instant.
“Milena?”
His handsome face twisted in horror at the sight before him.
“Milena!”
Realizing the gravity of the situation, he lunged forward without hesitation.
The massive room was filled with thorny vines—vines that twisted and expanded as if they had a mind of their own.
Floating in midair, Milena was ensnared in their grasp.
A flood of memories.
Someone was forcibly pulling out her past.
Lexion gritted his teeth and grabbed the thorny stems with his bare hands.
“Damn it.”
He couldn’t destroy them all at once—one wrong move, and Milena could be trapped in her memories forever.
Was this a curse?
The vines pulsed with dark, malicious magic. Even as they cut and tore his flesh, Lexion didn’t waver.
He clenched his jaw as he saw Milena’s pale face, her breath growing weaker.
—
Milena was aware as she followed the hooded man. She just couldn’t control her body, and that terrified her.
What was the Grand Duke trying to do, taking her in this way?
Despite being physically restrained, her mind kept racing. Her will to escape remained unbroken.
The moment the stone doors closed behind her, clarity returned to her eyes.
“Where… is this?”
Before she could process it, candles across the room flickered to life, illuminating the space.
And then—she gasped.
She wasn’t alone.
Lying on the floor were over a dozen women.
“Are they… corpses?”
It wasn’t unusual for death to occur in the Grand Duchy, but her spine tingled. Swallowing hard, she took a closer look.
The unconscious women lay sprawled with tangled hair, all eerily similar.
Golden hair.
Her breath hitched.
She hesitantly turned one over—
“Lariette?”
She quickly checked the others.
All of them had Lariette’s face.
What… was this?
The bodies felt unnervingly cold. Were they corpses? Dolls?
A horrifying realization struck her.
“Calion Luxen.”
The madman obsessed with Lariette.
It made sense. That lunatic was capable of something this deranged.
“First, he painted countless portraits of Lariette. Now… is he making dolls?”
She wanted no part in this nightmare.
“I need to get out—”
But just as she turned toward the door, a massive magic circle ignited beneath her.
She collapsed.
As her consciousness wavered, long-buried memories surfaced.
“Milena, villainy suits you. Don’t you think?”
A whisper, dripping with venom.
“You must become a villain, for me.”
—
Where had the first evil begun?
Milena was eight years old when her sister came to the Count’s estate, holding their father’s hand.
