Chapter 64
Thud.
As the door closed, Bellieta stopped in her tracks.
Without hesitation, her outstretched hand slapped Fiorétte across the face.
Smack!
The sharp sound echoed as Fiorétte’s head whipped to the side, her hair falling over her cheek.
Bellieta glared at Fiorette, whose body was now tilted, her eyes wide with anger.
“How could you mess this up?!”
Her voice was full of fury.
Fiorette bit her lip, trying to lift her head, but before she could, Bellieta struck her again, this time on the head.
The hit landed squarely on Fiorette’s ear, causing her to stagger, struggling to keep her balance.
“I’m sorry…”
“Do you even realize what kind of humiliation I had to endure because of you?!”
Bellieta slapped Fiorette again, making her body collapse forward as she tried to hold herself up against the table.
Still not satisfied, Bellieta glanced around and pulled a small whip from the desk.
Fiorette, her body slumped against the table, followed Bellieta’s movements with wide, trembling eyes.
Bellieta swung the whip at Fiorette just as she was trying to get up.
The moment the whip cracked, Fiorette flinched and froze.
Her terrified eyes shook, and her hands trembled.
Bellieta, gripping the whip with both hands, took a step closer.
“Fiorette. I’ve told you before. I can tolerate stupidity, but I can’t forgive someone who doesn’t know how to read the room. You just stood there and watched me get humiliated?!”
She whipped Fiorette across the waist.
Even though it wasn’t a hard swing, Fiorette’s body jerked, and she collapsed to the ground.
Bellieta looked down at her with disdain, as if she were a pathetic animal.
“I gave you all the support you needed because you said you could handle it. And what did I get in return? You running away like a loser in front of everyone!”
“I’m sorry… I should’ve been more careful…”
“How much more incompetent can you be? I told you—if things didn’t go right, you should’ve pulled the bowstring yourself!”
From the start, Bellieta hadn’t planned on killing Sierra.
She just wanted to wound her enough so Sierra wouldn’t show her face in public or walk around so freely like now.
Fiorette slowly lowered the hands she had been clutching her head with and looked at Bellieta.
Fear and misery filled her.
She wanted to escape.
But there was no way out.
She had forgotten how to be angry, forgotten what it felt like to be furious.
All that was left was an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
‘Is living like a tamed pet really fun for you?’
Sierra’s voice echoed in Fiorette’s mind, mixing pity and a strange sense of disdain.
Fiorette’s grip tightened slightly.
Why was she thinking about that now?
‘I could’ve shot.’
Sierra had been off guard.
It was like she had completely forgotten about Fiorette’s existence and was only focused on Bellieta.
All Fiorette had to do was release the arrow.
Sierra would have been injured and collapsed, and Fiorette wouldn’t have been beaten like this.
But she couldn’t.
‘But why?’
Why hadn’t she shot?
Why hadn’t she done anything?
Even though she knew she’d be punished.
Even though she knew this was going to happen.
‘It’s not like I expected anything from you, anyway.’
Sierra’s indifferent voice floated through her mind again.
Hearing it, Fiorette’s tense body started to loosen slightly.
In that moment, her eyes fell on the whip.
It was close enough that she could grab it if she just moved a little.
The sight of the whip made her heart race.
Her palms became sweaty, her eyes widened, and she slowly reached out.
Fiorette leaned forward, trying to grab the whip.
‘Just a little more…’
She bit her lip and inched closer to it.
Finally, she was close enough to grab it.
She swallowed hard and stretched her hand out one last time.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
A cold voice rang out, followed by the sight of a shoe pinning the whip down, snapping Fiorette back to reality.
Fiorette slowly lifted her head.
Above her was a pair of icy eyes staring down at her with contempt.
In that moment, one thought filled her mind.
‘I’m going to get hit again.’
The whip was going to strike her all over again, and she’d have to hold back her screams, again.
In this darkness, there was no escape until her body was completely battered.
Fiorette, barely able to stop her trembling arms, forced her lips to open.
“S-sor… sor, sorry…”
Shaking uncontrollably, Fiorette pressed her head against the floor, over and over.
As the dull thuds echoed in the dark room, Bellieta looked down at her for a moment before rolling her eyes.
She grabbed a small bottle from a box in the corner and tossed it in front of Fiorette.
Fiorette glanced up at the bottle that had rolled to her feet.
“Drink it. It’s over.”
Bellieta wiped the sweat from her forehead, letting out a satisfied breath, and smiled sweetly.
“So next time, be more careful, okay? I’ve told you before, Fiorette, I hate it when people can’t pick up on things. Don’t be so clueless next time, alright? Then you won’t have to go through something like this again.”
“…”
“I’ll leave the medicine here, so drink it and come out. I’m going to see my father, so you take care of your wounds and come out when you’re done.”
As Fiorette, disheveled and dazed, slowly stood up, she blankly stared at Bellieta, who was on her way out.
Bellieta paused by the door, then turned and looked at Fiorette.
“Make sure you heal every single wound. I mean it. You understand?”
“Yes… I understand.”
Bellieta stayed long enough to watch Fiorette open the bottle, pour the liquid into her mouth, and swallow it. Only then did she smile, turn, and leave.
As the door closed, darkness swallowed the room.
The bottle in Fiorette’s trembling hand slipped and shattered on the floor.
The deep room felt like it was dragging her down into the ground.
“It’s so dark…”
And in that darkness, the only sound was her quiet sobbing.
***
“All retrieved.”
After telling Rippert “Good job” for retrieving the bags they’d placed in the forest, I looked over at Aden sitting across from me.
He’d just arrived a moment ago and lazily glanced at the bags and then at me before adjusting his posture.
“Impressive. The stuff inside those bags.”
“Oh, this? You think so too, Aden?”
I nudged the bag next to me with my toe.
“It’s still just a prototype, so it’s not ready for the market yet. But once it’s finished within the next three years, it’ll be useful. In more ways than one.”
“I don’t know how someone even comes up with something like that, but Brilloxen sure knows how to make money.”
Aden smirked, lifting the teacup from the table.
I shrugged and glanced at the bag.
The bag beside me wasn’t something from this time period.
It was from about eight years in the future.
One of the products developed by a promising magician.
Back then, I got the information too late and failed to secure a contract, which was a huge disappointment.
But not this time.
“Kids these days sure are clever. I don’t know how they come up with these things. I couldn’t imagine thinking of that.”
Benicia, who had been casually observing a mural on the wall with her hands behind her back, muttered leisurely.
When I turned my head slightly, Aden had also twisted around to look at Benicia.
“Mother. How long are you going to keep staring at that painting?”
“They say a masterpiece is something you never get tired of looking at. This painting is exactly that for me.”
“Mother, you don’t even know how to appreciate art.”
“I’ve learned a little.”
Benicia coughed awkwardly, clearly caught off guard by Aden’s remark, and quickly turned her head away.
Aden clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“She’s into another weird hobby again. She does this from time to time. It was pottery before, then flower arranging, and before that, it was wine.”
“Isn’t painting a better hobby than drinking?”
“Not a chance. Drinking’s way better. It’s cheaper.”
A realization hit me, and I let out a soft chuckle.
Art is expensive, after all.
I nodded, quietly watching Benicia’s back.
She still hadn’t taken her eyes off the painting.
After staring at her for a while, I slowly opened my mouth.
“That painting is called *Noon* by Lur Artling. He’s not a super famous artist, so it’s not too expensive. But there are quite a few collectors who like his style, so he does have a following.”
“Miss Sierra, you know about paintings too?”
“Well, Brilloxen donates a considerable amount to art schools every year. Naturally, I’ve had to develop an eye for these things too.”
“Impressive. Excelling in so many fields at such a young age.”
Benicia nodded in approval, looking at me with pride. Then, she slowly turned to look at Aden.
She stared at the back of his head with a fierce gaze as he calmly sipped his tea, then finally opened her mouth.
“Unlike my son, who’s only obsessed with swords.”
“I can hear you, Mother.”
“I said it so you *would* hear me.”
Benicia and Aden locked eyes in a silent stare-down.
Watching the two of them, I couldn’t help but stifle a small laugh.
