The Beast of the Albard Mansion - Chapter 3
Although I couldn’t approach Desi while he was awake, I could get a little closer when his eyes were closed.
I would stare blankly at Desi, who was groaning without opening his eyes, and then shiver when I saw his wounds. Even though I wasn’t the one in pain, my body ached. I couldn’t help but tightly close my eyes and rub my neck.
One day, as usual, I heard Desi’s stomach growl while he was growling at me. The sound was so loud that I could hear it even from a considerable distance.
“What is that noise?”
“Grrrrr…”
I tilted my head to the side. As soon as I finished speaking, Desi’s ears drooped, and his growling softened. I thought he looked embarrassed. I noticed this small change in Desi and laughed quietly.
From that day on, I started bringing food whenever I went down to the dungeon. While Desi was asleep, I carefully placed bread and snacks hidden in my undergarments beside him as he whimpered. I also brought a thick blanket.
Would he be surprised when he woke up? Would he enjoy the food again this time? I giggled to myself every day as I brought food and snacks to him. Imagining the surprised look on Desi’s face always made me laugh. The idea of Desi, who was always expressionless and fierce, being startled seemed amusing.
As I continued to feed Desi, I realized that he not only received poor treatment but also wasn’t given enough to eat. The servants always fed him thin, watery gruel, claiming that Desi shouldn’t grow any bigger because he would become dangerous if he did. They said he had to be kept lean because he would grow in size with every meal. Hearing this, I pouted.
But if he eats so little, he must be starving, right? Desi’s stomach always growled like thunder. When I skipped just one meal, my stomach would shrink and make gurgling sounds, and I felt terrible. How much worse must it be for Desi? Didn’t the servants feel sorry for Desi, who couldn’t eat anything tasty?
I always found the treatment Desi received strange, but everyone else said it was normal. They said Desi deserved to be treated that way. Desi wasn’t like us, so he shouldn’t be treated like a human. Their words gave me goosebumps. The more I looked at Desi, the more he seemed human to me. He walked on two legs, ate food, and breathed like a person. His eyes and mouth were in the right place.
Although his canines were sharp when he opened his mouth and his hair was so tangled that it covered his face, and his ears looked a bit odd, other than that, he was unmistakably human. How could anyone say he didn’t deserve to be treated like a human?
When I gasped in surprise, a maid laughed softly.
“You don’t have to feel sorry for him. My lady, you’re really too kind and innocent, and you often worry unnecessarily. But he’s not human, even if he looks like one, so there’s no need to pity him. One day, you’ll understand that Desi isn’t human, and you’ll be able to let go of your sympathy.”
Her words only piqued my curiosity further.
What exactly is Desi? What is the identity of Desi, who has to live groaning in the dungeon beneath our feet?
My curiosity about Desi was overwhelming, and I couldn’t stop observing him. Even though I feared my father, I couldn’t suppress my curiosity. My curiosity was persistent, like a mischievous child, relentlessly troubling my heart.
Eventually, my mischievous curiosity caused trouble.
That day, it was time for Desi’s regular beating. My father believed Desi needed to be tamed through force, so he regularly beat him. Since Desi smelled terrible, he was dragged straight to the backyard when brought out of the dungeon. My father would punish Desi on the dirt ground in the backyard.
Although I could secretly watch what happened to Desi from there, I had never watched until the end. The sight of Desi being punished was so horrifying and frightening that I couldn’t watch for more than five minutes before running away.
That day, too, my father beat Desi harshly, more severely than he had ever beaten the servants, my mother, my sister, or my brothers. After a long beating, my father tied Desi up with chains and ordered not to feed him. He said Desi needed to be tamed with food after being beaten.
Desi’s beaten areas were swollen and red. He started to have a fever, and his breath was hot. The dungeon was filled with a damp smell.
“Grrrr… Grr…”
Desi groaned and panted, unable to regain his senses. Blood seeped through his ragged clothes. Watching Desi suffer made me feel strange. My chest ached, and tears welled up. I was worried and felt sorry for him, but there was no way to help, so I just stood there, helplessly.
There were times when I felt strange emotions unknown to the adults. When I found a butterfly with torn wings, saw a stray dog limping, or a cat with an injured eye, or watched a horse being whipped. My heart would ache.
My heart would ache, and tears would well up, and I would let out a groan. Their pain was transmitted to me.
