I Will Die for You, My Darling! - Chapter 3
Hanging herself was equally impractical. The ornate chandelier was adorned with pointed decorations throughout, and finding a secure place to tie the fabric seemed challenging.
The theoretical possibility of using a cloth tied to the doorknob to hang herself crossed her mind. However, hanging her neck at a height lower than her own, staying still until death came, feeling the breath squeezing out of her… Oh, she detested the idea.
She was sick of long and vivid pain.
‘Even though all this is for Izzy, can’t I seek a more comfortable death?’
“Instant death, instant death…”
Arietta murmured as she rose from her seat and circled the room. Before she knew it, her gaze was drawn to the window.
Falling to her death seemed like a good idea.
She unlocked the latch of the window. Her expressionless face measured the height of the room beyond the open window.
‘Hmm.’
Hmm, it was not enough. Arietta’s bedroom was on the second floor.
‘No, no. That won’t work. It’s complicated.’
Arietta’s eyes naturally shifted upward.
“The attic seems to have enough height…”
Maybe the maids bedroom? Sure, let’s go.
She opened the door. Passing through the corridor, she found a small door leading to the servants’ passage. Arietta hiked up her skirt and ascended the creaking stairs with a cheerful skip.
The thought that she would soon die made her feel good. She was on the verge of humming a tune.
However, death was never easy.
“Canary.”
An obstacle appeared. It was a maid from the annex, a woman with a magnificent body who blocked Arietta’s way.
Her overt gaze scanned Arietta’s attire from top to bottom, followed by an audible sigh.
“This is the servants’ passage. Male servants also use this route.”
Arietta, who had just come out of her bedroom, was barefoot in a negligee. She casually caressed the staircase railing with an innocent look.
“What’s it to you?”
Blocking the path with an air of indifference was a common tactic she often used.
The head maid tightened her lips to suppress any signs of irritation. She held disdain for Arietta, but expressing it openly was forbidden in the glass-domed mansion if she wanted to survive.
‘Play along.’
That was what Isaac instructed.
‘But still, make sure to enforce the rules.’
“Go back to your room and put on a gown. Do you want to become the spectacle among the male servants?”
“I don’t mind. We can just gouge out those bastards’ eyes.”
Arietta lifted the hem of her negligee, exposing her calf. The words she spoke with a nonchalant tone were as cruel as a little tyrant.
The issue seemed to be resolved straightforwardly, but the head maid was not backing down.
“I told you, this is the servants’ passage. You need to use the main staircase. Now, put on your clothes, I will escort you.”
The attic belonged to the maids. She couldn’t go there using the main staircase.
Annoyance filled her.
Arietta forcibly freed her arm from the head maid’s grasp.
“Let go. I won’t wear the clothes, and I’m going up this way.”
“You’ll catch a cold.”
“I’ve never caught one before.”
“Anyone can catch a cold.”
“Anyone? Am I not treated as a ‘collection’? I know better than anyone that not treating me like a human is the directive of this annex.”
“…..”
The head maid remained steadfast, not yielding an inch. Arietta had to be dressed in a gown.
The cold was nothing more than an excuse.
The real issue was the possibility of a young man in the prime of his s****l desires catching a glimpse of Arietta’s curves. This was the annex of the Glass Dome Mansion.
Although commonly referred to as maids and butlers for convenience, their official title was ‘caretaker’
Their duty was to maintain the ‘rare collection’ in optimal condition. Paintings, sculptures, automatons… and Arietta. The basic rules for managing the ‘collection Arietta’ were as follows:
-
- Do not inflict any physical harm.
-
- Do not make her cry.
-
- Ensure she does not become the object of inappropriate desires.
The third rule was added about three years ago.
Nude sketches of Arietta were discovered under the bed of one male servant. The edges of the drawings were stained with a suspicious liquid, clear evidence of pleasuring oneself.
‘Big Cat’ Isaac, the owner of the Glass Dome Mansion, promptly summoned the culprit for interrogation.
Within ten minutes of facing Isaac, the male servant confessed. Apparently, a maid close to Arietta with a talent for sketching was generously rewarded with two purification capsules for each sketch.
Isaac also summoned the implicated maid. The initial interrogation started ‘mildly’, but it gradually transformed into a more Big Cat-style interrogation.
Initially denying any involvement, the maid said later as the evening approached, that she was indeed the artist behind the sketches. However, she insisted that the person on the drawings was not Arietta.
Of course, it was an outrageous lie. To dismiss the drawings as mere imagination would be too naive; they were far too accurate.
The artist had captured even the smallest details, such as a small mole on the inside of the right arm and above the left bre*st. The slender chest compared to the straight shoulders, the surgical scar near the navel—all faithfully reflected in the depiction of the beauty in the drawing.
Isaac, with his exceptional observational skills and dexterity, eventually extracted a confession from the artist who sought to earn some extra money.
Now it was time for punishment.
Downstream, there was no law.
The only ‘rules’ that Downstream people had to abide by were Isaac’s commands. Therefore, the details and severity of the punishment for criminal acts were entirely at Isaac’s discretion.
