Chapter 33 #2
As the curator and creator of the story, but still a helpless bystander, I believe this story wouldn’t have existed had Prince Reen and Pandora understood the complicated, swirling feelings within each other.
With many obsessions, he would have been attentive to her and keen to unravel her mysteries.
As a woman lacking any formed friendships, she would have grown to love the bastard and pursued him romantically at seventeen.
They would have married. She would have given him children. It would have been a perfect fairy tale, filled with all things light, with no hint of darkness or revenge to explore. Their families would join, and the old friendship of King Ragan and Fross Hart would remain strong.
If only they weren’t so stubborn and proud, this story would have ended happily…
Reen Kyong, July 14th
I leave the confines of my room after the memory of realising Pandora Hart was Myra…the girl who saved my life. It bothers me. The thought of owing someone irritates me.
Now, I seem to have conflicting views about this hunt.
I want her dead. There is no contest in those desires of mine, but it seems I still owe her.
Therefore, I’ve decided to agree to spare her life until after Walkyer finishes questioning her.
I hate the idea of prolonging this more than I should, but it’s the only other option unless something else happens that allows me to spare her life and remove this debt.
Alad steps out of the shadows as I lean my arms against the railing and overlook the starry night with my chain hooked around my finger. Waves ripple against the ship. The air stills with silence as the breeze tickles my exposed skin, sending a chill across the sweat clinging to my back.
“Why didn’t you tell me that Pandora was the girl who saved my life that day?” I ask Alad.
“You would have thought that I was saying anything I could to prevent you from killing her,” he answers with honesty thick in his words.
“Is that the reason you don’t want her dead?”
“I watched you roam around the camp for twenty minutes, and no one came to aid you. If King Ragan hadn’t told me that if I helped you, he would kill Walkyer, I would have tried to save you.
But the guards you’ve grown up with and the elemny who respected King Ragan kept their mouths shut and their heads down when you were bleeding out. No one cared besides a stranger.”
I grimace. “She killed my mother…”
“And you destroyed her kingdom and dragged her father to be beheaded by King Ragan.”
“I did not kill anyone from her family. When I stormed Elden Keep, her sister was lying in a pool of her blood, and her father was already broken when we found him.”
“Yes, I know. But King Ragan sent orders to storm her kingdom and then killed her father…televised. It was unfortunate that Queen Ji-Sun was tethered to him. However, she likely bore no ill will towards the Queen. If your mother were not tethered to him, I could see you killing King Ragan instead of listening to his every order.”
I grunt my response.
“But you will still kill her no matter what I say,” Alad says with a sigh.
“Yes.”
“May I ask why you’re so persistent?”
My hands tighten together, and I say, “I don’t like wild cards.”
I leave Alad be and enter the room, hoping to get some inkling of sleep. After closing the door, I head towards the bed when a sharp yet soft sound causes me to stop. My eyes roll toward it, and my lips pull into a grimace.
As I stand before the closet, I hear it again. It’s subtle. A good deal of elemny may not have heard it, but I am curious about the sound of drizzling rain and sloshing water because I have trained all my senses.
I open the closet and stare inside without making a sound above the noises of crashing waves and rain. Another intake of breath causes me to look up. They say that curiosity kills the cat, but what if there’s a mouse in my house? Who would die then? The cat or the mouse?
I step onto the dresser and tower over the boxes. The corner of my mouth twitches at this creature curled up underneath a towel, her chest rising and falling evenly. Pushing the box to the side, I rest my elbows on the shelf and watch her with fascination.
She’s daring. I give her that because no one else would ever think of sneaking into the room I sleep in, let alone the ship.
Such a strange element to have fallen into my life, bringing utter chaos.
But as weird as it sounds, she looks fragile when she sleeps—a harmless little bird in her tiny cage.
Long black hair falls over her right shoulder in silky ribbons.
Thick, long lashes cover her eyes, and her skin is as white as snow, sickly in the darkness.
I muse over the thought of killing her. But her shock wouldn’t satisfy me. I want wavering fear in her eyes and panic to set into her movements before I plunge my fist into her heart. Killing her now would be unjust. Besides, I’m having too much fun. It has been a long time since I enjoyed a hunt.
Come to think of it, I don’t think I have had a hunt this enjoyable before. I don’t want it to end—not now, not yet, and not since I owe her a debt, considering she saved my life.
Her brows furrow. A look of panic plagues her features as she sleeps. What is she thinking about? What nightmares wither inside her and riddle her on lonely nights?
I want to know.
My fingers brush against her cheek. She’s ice cold, but it’s not biting or irritable. It feels…nice. Her knitted brows soften, and the features of fright ease as she drifts into a calm slumber.
“After we reach the Fountain of Silver, my debt to you will be paid in full. Until then, I will sleep somewhere else so you can go to the toilet without worrying about me entering.” I tug the towel over her shoulder, and she snuggles up. “Goodnight, Pandora Hart.”