Please Kill Me - Chapter 52
As the adoptive daughter of Offenbach, Yekaterina has lived a life without want and will surely continue to do so. Why then would she seek him, who she has never met before, to wish for death?
While thinking about saving her, he also wanted to ignore the reason. She didn’t seem particularly gloomy or resigned, so he wanted to dismiss the idea that she was desperately seeking death.
However, every time he faced Yekaterina, his thoughts were involuntarily drawn towards the opposite. So it made him concerned.
But something puzzled him.
If his fear was simply about knowing more about Yekaterina, why did it bother him so much when she showed interest in others?
Whether it was when she paid attention to Vasily or seemed close with Nikolai, the footman, an inexplicable irritation surged within him.
‘Perhaps it’s just rivalry,’ he thought.
Despite spending almost every day with her and giving her all sorts of gifts, she showed little reaction to him, perhaps spurring some sense of competition.
‘Yes, that must be it.’
Leonid convinced himself as he watched Yekaterina stroll through the garden from his window after dinner. Her lack of response to anything he did led him to think negatively each time they met.
So, he kept pondering over her death and not wanting to see her with that footman, Nikolai.
Thus, his question about whether she liked horseback riding was also a part of this sequence of thoughts. If she found something she liked, if she could be convinced that life wasn’t utterly meaningless, then perhaps he could finally stop worrying about her.
With a dismissive tone, Leonid closed the bedroom curtains and continued.
“How about trying to ride in the wilderness if you get better at it? It’s much easier to run there than in the forest.”
“I’ve never particularly liked horseback riding,” Yekaterina replied, turning to him.
She was preparing for bed, her hair tied to one side, still fragrant with the scent oil meticulously applied by her maid. As Yekaterina moved, the negligee she wore flowed, creating varying curves that, even in the shadowed bedroom, caught Leonid’s attention.
It made him pause as he extinguished the candles.
It was only a momentary glance.
Fortunately, Leonid regained his senses before the silence grew awkward. He relaxed and began to pinch out the candles one by one.
“I thought you enjoyed horseback riding. You rode every day, didn’t you?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve ridden a horse directly. It’s fun.”
“People usually say they like something when they find it fun.”
Whoosh. The last candle was extinguished, leaving Leonid’s brief smile known only to the darkness—a secret even he wasn’t aware of, given his smile’s unconscious nature.
‘Now, I really can stop my concerns.’
Satisfied with the conversation, a subtle contentment lingered on Leonid’s face. He was assured that Yekaterina had something she enjoyed.
So, there was no longer a reason for him to dwell on Yekaterina and thoughts of death.
Since Yekaterina wasn’t insistent on going to the battlefield anymore, there was no need to stick by her side all day under the guise of surveillance. Nor was there any reason to fret over Yekaterina spending her entire day with that damned Nikolai or whoever.
‘I should tell the merchants to stop coming from tomorrow.’
Feeling relieved, thinking he could finally immerse himself in his work from the next day, Leonid waited for Yekaterina to go to bed with a content smile.
This had become an unspoken rule between them since they started sharing a bed: Yekaterina would lie down first, then Leonid.
Initially, it was Leonid’s awkwardness towards the situation that prevented him from approaching the bed. But as days passed, they naturally came to share the blanket as if they had been using the bed together for a long time.
However, this didn’t create any tension or romantic atmosphere between them. The bed and blanket were spacious enough to accommodate several people, ensuring a significant distance between them even when they lay side by side.
Perhaps it was the effect of being together all day, or maybe too focused on surveillance, but Leonid had grown quite accustomed to having Yekaterina in his bed.
Yet, for some reason, the shadow in the darkness remained motionless over time. Considering Yekaterina usually had no trouble finding a comfortable spot on the bed like a cat seeking sunlight, this was quite unusual.
“….Why are you just standing there?”
Unable to bear the silence any longer, Leonid asked. From the darkness across the bed, a voice came, harmonizing with the tranquility.
“I was thinking about whether what I just saw was real.”
Yekaterina’s voice, steady and fitting well with the silence, slowly approached and lay down on the bed. Leonid, now closer, could see her eyelids gently closing.
He sat at the edge of the bed, quietly observing her cheek shadowed by her lashes, and asked again.
“What did you see?”
“Your smile.”
