Red Riding Hood - Chapter 42
That night, Quiel watched.
“Don’t be mad at me, Vinya.”
The lovely marionette caught in his devilish plan moved in the darkness, her golden hair rippling.
The euphoria he felt in that moment—
He was like a mathematician who, after decades of locking himself away in a tower, had finally solved a vexing equation. Like an old king who heard the final victory cry after a lifetime of conquest. Ecstasy swept over him like a massive golden wave.
“You really shouldn’t have tormented Six so much,” she said.
Dragging Vinya’s limp body outside, Cinq descended the steps backward, moving closer to him.
Step by step, she brought herself into his embrace.
“You didn’t even let Six rest when she was sick.”
Cinq.
What kind of expression do you have now?
“And even when I begged you to sell me to the priest, you refused. All because a diseased harlot wasn’t worth a single coin, and you preferred to squeeze more money out of the priest by driving up my price.”
Cinq.
There’s no need to fear. I love your sin. Let me savor the sweetness of the stains on your pure soul. Let me adorn my brow with the jewel of blasphemy born from your deepest, most secret emotions.
Dragging Vinya’s corpse to the center of the yard, Cinq said,
“Your death is entirely your fault, Vinya. If only you’d been kinder, Six wouldn’t have died. If Six were still alive, maybe she would’ve helped you.”
She didn’t seem to have any intention of concealing her crime. Perhaps her exhaustion had dulled her thoughts. She must have been utterly drained.
Sadly, the weight of sin bears down far more harshly on the innocent than on those accustomed to cruelty.
Leaving Vinya’s body in the middle of the yard, Cinq returned to the house alone.
Quiel laughed softly in the darkness.
Cinq.
How far do you think I’m willing to go to protect you?
Burying your brothel keeper’s corpse is nothing if it eases your suffering tomorrow.
***
That night, Quiel barely slept.
To bury a mere old brothel keeper, he had to dig into the frozen ground all night long. Eventually, a pit was formed. Shallow compared to the depth of his toil, but it would suffice.
With a kick, he shoved the cursed brothel keeper, who had tormented him to the end, into the hole. Then he toppled the mound of earth over her body and returned to the temple.
Immersing his aching muscles in a tub of hot water, Quiel groaned. The ordeal had been grueling, but it didn’t matter. Cinq must be suffering as well.
After a brief rest, he regained his composure and led the lamb he’d been raising into the temple’s backyard. It was the gentle creature’s final moment of freedom.
The lamb, which he had raised since it was young, followed him like a loyal dog. That lovely, innocent beast was meant to be a sacrifice for Cinq.
When the day came for her to confess her sins, Quiel planned to personally slit the lamb’s throat and craft a beast mask to cover her guilt.
And then, that day arrived.
Cinq came to him.
He hadn’t expected her to come so soon, leaving him unprepared.
Lightly smacking his lips to stifle the smile threatening to escape, he donned the white goat mask and went out to meet her.
It was the moment he had long awaited.
He had fantasized about this moment hundreds, thousands of times—the moment she, burdened by sin and trembling with anguish, would come to him seeking forgiveness and protection.
Cinq, trembling with fear.
Cinq, crying.
Cinq, tormented.
No matter how she appeared, he would not falter. He would accept everything with grace.
But there, in the temple’s backyard near the graveyard, Cinq stood utterly composed.
Her golden hair was still tightly concealed beneath her brilliantly bright red hood, and she stood with his cherished lamb at her side.
Her cheeks glowed faintly with a vitality he couldn’t comprehend, and a small smile graced her lips.
She reached out her small, gentle hand to stroke the lamb’s carefully groomed fleece.
She…
She didn’t look like someone who had committed murder the night before!
