In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 46
Chapter 46
“Wait just a moment, let me clean you up.”
Concerned about the dried blood matting its white fur, she turned to find something to wipe it with. That’s when she froze, a small cry catching in her throat. She’d made eye contact with the man who had entered the room, silent as a shadow.
“Master…” He stood by the door, arms crossed, a sardonic twist to his lips. “Has my little slave been enjoying another solitary outing?”
“No, it’s not like that,” Hilde stammered, quickly explaining the situation. “There was an injured rabbit on the terrace, so I brought it in to heal it. I really didn’t go outside.”
“A wounded animal happened to be on the terrace?” He raised an eyebrow. Hilde nodded nervously, awaiting his reaction. What if he didn’t believe her? But there were guards both at the door and on the terrace this time. As she frantically searched for an excuse, his low voice cut through her thoughts.
“And it just happened to be a rabbit.” Benedict’s gaze shifted past Hilde to the animal on the floor. As if sensing his attention, the rabbit froze, then began to tremble violently. He must be displeased that I brought a rabbit into the room without permission, Hilde thought, opening her mouth to apologize.
But before she could utter a word, Benedict closed the distance between them and snatched the rabbit by the scruff of its neck.
“Master…!” Hilde cried out in alarm as the rabbit squealed and struggled in his grasp.
“Quiet,” he commanded, his voice laced with steel. The rabbit’s frantic struggles ceased under the weight of his oppressive presence. Turning the creature over in his hand, Benedict’s eyes narrowed. “A male.”
Hilde blinked, uncomprehending. Or rather, unable to grasp the implication of his words. Her gaze fixed on the rabbit, fearing for its safety, she asked cautiously, “Do you… dislike rabbits?”
“No,” he replied, his tone clipped and precise. But before Hilde could feel any relief, he added, “Male rabbits are simply useless.” He glanced towards a corner of the room.
“Should I feed it to my snake?” Following his gaze, Hilde recoiled. Curled in the corner, head raised, was a jet-black serpent. “No, please don’t!”
Scrambling to her feet, Hilde positioned herself protectively in front of the rabbit, clasping her hands together. “Please, give me back the rabbit. I beg you.”
“I believe I mentioned I keep a pet snake. Bringing its food into the room without permission was your mistake, wasn’t it?”
“I…” Hilde’s voice choked off, a lump forming in her throat. Her eyes stung, and her nose began to burn. I just wanted to save it. She hadn’t rescued the rabbit to feed it to a snake.
She wished she had treated it on the terrace, setting it free as soon as it recovered, even if it meant facing his displeasure. Regret washed over her. “Besides—”
“Ugh…!”
“It’s problematic that you use your divine power so freely.” Benedict stepped closer, his face inches from hers, and tilted her chin upwards, his gaze domineering. “That power belongs to me.”
His golden eyes gleamed with a cruel light, predatory and intense, like a serpent poised to strike. Fear and anxiety tightened their grip around Hilde’s throat once more. The memory of his impassive face as he probed her arrow wound, accusing her of running away, flashed before her eyes.
And then, his cold voice as he severed the servant’s hands, cruelly blaming her for his impending death. But even so… Hilde clung to the memory of the rare moments of kindness he had shown her. Granting her seemingly impossible request, examining her wounds… Had she been foolish, naive, to find hope in those small, flickering embers of warmth?
