The Sand Bride - Chapter 19
Esther’s face stiffened. For the same reason, grains of sand that had trickled from Esther’s hair were scattered sparingly across Karzhen’s tent. He had once remarked that her hair was like sand, occasionally brushing his fingers through her thin locks with an expression of fascination.
Whenever he did, Esther would shrink back, overcome by a strange and fearful sensation. To be precise, it was revulsion—and she struggled relentlessly to keep that feeling hidden from Karzhen.
Before this, the only people who had ever touched her hair so freely were her family and a few close friends. No, even they had never dragged their fingers roughly over the back of her head the way Karzhen did.
Was it because she knew they would soon leave? Esther reluctantly acknowledged the fleeting sand, the scorching sun, and even these bandits. She knew it would be impossible to completely erase these moments from the once-tranquil tapestry of her life.
The events in this desert would take root in her memory, never to be forgotten, and would shape the course of her existence in ways she couldn’t yet fathom. Esther accepted this truth with grim honesty.
But no matter what, she sincerely hoped she would never have to face these bandits again. Just as she steeled herself to take another step—
A faint sound reached her ears. A groan, fragile yet unbroken. Esther instinctively recognized it—she had heard it often beside her father. The sound of a dying man.
Scanning her surroundings, she soon spotted a man collapsed some distance away, his face buried in the sand. His clothes were tattered rags, but Esther recognized them—they were from her homeland. A fellow countryman. Her heart clenched, and she hurried toward him.
“Ugh…….”
Sand had piled over his body like a shroud. Esther brushed it away with her hands and turned him onto his back. As she did, he let out a ragged, gurgling breath.
His bloodshot eyes, sallow face, and pallid lips made it clear to anyone that he was gravely ill.
Esther, who understood this better than most, gazed at the suffering man with a heavy heart. He had endured the scorching heat until now, only to be struck down by illness at the brink of the end.
Even if he survived the night, there was no saving him—whether their escape succeeded or not. The bandits would abandon him, and the captives would leave him behind.
The certainty of it pained her. At the same time, guilt gnawed at her—by all rights, she should have been the first to collapse, yet here she was, surviving in the worst way possible.
“…….”
Esther struggled to speak, her lips trembling helplessly. Then the man’s gaze shifted toward the dried fruit she had set beside her.
Had he starved for days? Even at death’s door, his eyes fixed hungrily on the fragrant fruit before flickering back to her. Though he lacked the strength to speak, his pleading gaze was unmistakable. Esther’s heart ached anew.
“It’s alright. You can have it.”
Without hesitation, she tore the fruit into small pieces and pressed them into his mouth.
Even if death was certain, he was still alive now—he had every right to taste something sweet. Besides, she had only taken the fruit to avoid arousing Karzhen’s suspicion. Remembering how she’d gotten it killed any appetite she might have had.
She clasped the man’s hand as he struggled to swallow. It was warm but terribly dry, covered in wounds. Esther held it gently.
Once the fruit was gone, the man’s lips stilled. His eyelids fluttered weakly before he pushed something into her grasp.
A tiny glass vial, small enough to hang around one’s neck. Inside was a slip of paper. Esther blinked at it, and the man whispered in a voice so faint it barely carried:
“…To… Re…shi…….”
That was all. Before she could ask what it meant, she noticed the light fading from his eyes. He was gone.
Esther’s face twisted as if she might burst into tears. The loneliness of his death filled her with sorrow and dread. Would she die like this too? Would her father?
No.
Closing the man’s eyes and clutching the vial, Esther shook her head. She wouldn’t die like that. She would escape, find her father, reunite with her mother… and return to her old life. She had to.
After tucking the remaining fruit into the man’s arms, she turned away. It was finally time to leave.
