Please Kill Me - Chapter 24
“It’s just what anyone would do if they hear someone talking about dying or entering a ‘Black Room’. Who wouldn’t be concerned?”
This time, there was no swift reply. Consequently, Leonid found himself observing Yekaterina’s face, which wasn’t particularly gloomy or lethargic.
The shadows cast by the long eyelashes over her cheeks resembled the whispering reeds by the river. Yet, her actual face was more akin to an undisturbed ice lake.
“You always say things I can’t understand.”
A voice as tranquil as the stillness of a snowy field followed.
Would it be overly sentimental to find that voice somewhat sad? Leonid then realized that Yekaterina hadn’t looked at him once during their entire conversation.
She had only been gazing somberly at her plate, stained with sauce and meat juices.
Yekaterina’s eyes were always shielded by the silvery shadows of her eyelids.
Suddenly, Leonid noticed he couldn’t recall the color of Yekaterina’s eyes. The realization twisted his mood surprisingly sharply.
Without time to ponder why, Yekaterina continued the conversation.
“In places where death is commonplace, someone dying isn’t a matter of concern.”
“…That might apply to Offenbach.”
“It doesn’t have to be Offenbach; people generally don’t care about others.”
Her tone was peculiarly definitive.
Yekaterina, as if the conversation was of no consequence, continued to stare blankly at her plate, which had been emptied several times.
It wasn’t because she felt uncomfortable with Leonid or she was suddenly gloomy.
It was just a habit Yekaterina had.
At home, she rarely sat at the dining table. The only times Yekaterina would dress up and sit at a table like this was when she was accompanying her mother, Ludmilla, to parties at other families’ homes.
– It’s been a while, Mrs. Offenbach. How’s your child doing?
– Oh, very well. We’ve changed his fencing master recently, and his skills have significantly improved. He’s grown so tall I have to look up to him now.
– You must be so proud of having such an excellent child, Mrs. Offenbach. I look forward to meeting your child at the next party.
While Ludmila’s ‘child’ should rightfully include both Dmitri and Yekaterina, the conversations revolved around Dmitri alone.
Despite knowing Yekaterina was formally the eldest daughter of Offenbach, that was the case.
The people flocking around Ludmila were too busy engaging her to spare a word for Yekaterina.
Among all those people, not one showed concern for Yekaterina. It was a benign indifference.
Outside, like a shadow, Yekaterina would not even touch the food, only staring at her empty plate until it was time to return home with Ludmila. That was her role.
She never harbored resentment or sadness about this reality. Such emotions belonged to her very young self.
Yet, upon hearing Leonid’s words…
“Do you like the plate?”
Abruptly interrupted by his voice, Yekaterina’s reverie shattered. Swiftly, she lifted her gaze, as a rabbit might kick its legs, to meet his peculiarly still golden eyes.
There was no trace of a smile on his face. Considering how his voice was always gentle, this cold, hard expression seemed oddly out of place. Yet, that moment was fleeting. As soon as their eyes met, Leonid’s face softened into a slight smile.
‘A misconception?’
There was no way to confirm. Before she could dwell on her doubts, Leonid continued.
“I paid a pretty penny for it. Heard it was made from some rare clay.”
The plate indeed felt smooth, lightweight yet durable. Its refined elegance boasted the craftsmanship of a master. Yekaterina asked after staring just as intently at Leonid as she did the plate.
“Do you take pleasure in flaunting your wealth?”
“If it’s there, showing it isn’t a fault. But pretending to have what you don’t can be poisonous.”
“Modesty is also a virtue at Offenbach, apparently not valued in Rostislav.”
“Unnecessary modesty is like self-harm. Offenbach must not teach that, do they?”
After Leonid’s remark, Yekaterina paused to gaze at him briefly before dropping her eyes back to the plate.
He didn’t miss the opportunity. Leaning forward, Leonid gently lifted Yekaterina’s chin and cheek, forcing her gaze back to his. His lips parted slightly, close to her face.
“And when having a conversation, one should make eye contact.”
“……”
Yekaterina’s usually almond-shaped eyes rounded out, revealing her obsidian pupils fully.
Leonid felt a strange satisfaction fill him. Unknowingly smiling, he asked,
“Don’t they teach you this either?”
Expecting another quiet stare in return,
“……Your nails are quite short.”
It was an unexpected reply she gave. Her gaze had shifted diagonally, now observing Leonid’s arm.
