When That Door Opens - Chapter 31
I bit my lip hard. The need for a short walk became so urgent that it made my chest ache.
So it was inevitable that I felt a surge of irritation when I saw the man standing before me.
It happened just as I was stepping out the door. The slave I had saved earlier approached me with a bright expression.
“I greet you, Lady Astel.”
At first, I thought I had mistaken him for someone else due to his friendly demeanor. But no, it was indeed him. The scars on his face, the wheat-colored hair, the slender frame, and those blue eyes.
Perhaps because of his expression, he looked younger than before, but he was unmistakably the slave who had been beaten by the sculptor.
Noticing his cheeks, white with cold, as if he had been waiting for some time, I frowned.
“What on earth were you doing in front of my room?”
“I came to return something to you, Lady Astel.”
“Return something to me? What could that be?”
I pressed my throbbing temples. Perhaps it was the sudden situation, but the headache I had momentarily forgotten had suddenly worsened. It felt as if a woodpecker were pecking at my brain.
He seemed startled by my cold reaction but quickly smiled. Then he took something out of his pocket and spoke politely.
“It’s the handkerchief you gave me earlier. I came to express my gratitude.”
“Gratitude?”
“Thanks to Lady Astel, my life was spared. If I can repay the favor, please give me any command.”
Instead of taking the neatly folded handkerchief, I stared at him intently.
Living as Roman’s puppet, I had learned many things. The foremost among them was not to trust others’ goodwill lightly. The slave before me was no exception.
There was another reason I shouldn’t trust the slave. I had seen his true face earlier. Even while being beaten, he had perfectly controlled his emotions.
His tightly shut lips and lowered eyes showed no trace of pain or resentment.
A man as thorough as he was suddenly being so friendly to someone he met only today? A scoff escaped me.
‘I’d sooner believe he fell in love with me at first sight.’
I could guess why he was pretending. He must be trying to get something out of me. Reaching my conclusion, I quickened my pace.
“Lady Astel?”
Well, perhaps I was being overly negative. Whatever the case, I had no intention of changing my judgment about the slave.
The events of the past few days had pushed me to my limit. I had no room left to consider the needs of a stranger I met today. I desperately needed time alone. If this walk was interrupted, I felt I would suffocate and die.
“Lady Astel, is something wrong? Have I offended you? Please tell me if I’ve done something wrong, and I will correct it immediately.”
Yet the person causing my distress wouldn’t leave me alone, oblivious to my inner turmoil. Finally, I snapped.
“If you know it’s disrespectful, then stop this pathetic act and disappear.”
“What?”
“I said stop the act and disappear. Get out of my sight before I lose my temper.”
“I don’t understand what you mean by an act. There seems to be some misunderstanding. I only wish to repay your kindness…”
“Ha! Repay my kindness?”
I stopped walking. The terrible headache, Roman’s greedy gaze, and the broken statue all jumbled together.
“So you’ll really do anything?”
I turned sharply and glared at him. Somehow, he had become the cause of all my suffering. I didn’t feel it was unjust at all.
If he truly cared about me, he should have left long ago. He shouldn’t have shown up in the first place.
But instead, he lingered as if I had something left to eat.
I wish you would just stop. I have nothing left to give. Soon, Roman will take even the only thing I have left—my body!
“Then can you bite your tongue and die?”
“What?”
“I asked if you could bite your tongue and die right here! You said you would do anything I asked, didn’t you? If you’re so confident, then prove it.”
I snapped at him.
“Isn’t it true that the life you’re living was saved by me? If you survived because of me, you should be willing to die for me. Am I wrong? What are you waiting for? Go ahead and die!”
At first, he looked taken aback by my harsh words, but then he started to scrutinize my expression carefully, as if trying to understand my true intentions.
“Does the idea of biting your tongue not appeal to you? Fine. I’ll show you some mercy. I’ll give you a choice. Instead of biting your tongue, you can choose your method of death. Shall I give you a knife? If you can’t stab yourself, shall I call someone else to do it for you? If you wish, I could even stab you myself!”
Perhaps realizing I wasn’t joking, his mouth set into a hard line. The innocent mask began to crack.
