When That Door Opens - Chapter 34
I couldn’t ignore the petty desire to see at least one out of the three live a decent life, and so I took action.
On the table was a letter Roman had sent today.
It remained sealed.
Gazing at the letter, I pulled the blanket over my head again.
* * *
For the next few days, I ignored Roman’s letters. No matter how deeply I thought, there was nothing I could do.
Ironically, the act of freeing the slave provided some comfort amidst the helplessness. It felt as if I had done something of worth, even if only slightly, in a life otherwise filled with futility.
Around that time, an unwelcome guest began to visit me frequently. It was the very noble who had previously pressed me to reveal the divine oracle.
“Lady Astel, today you must tell me about the oracle. If you need more time, please at least give me a rough idea.”
The noble kept pestering me, true to his role as Roman’s most faithful lackey.
“Did I not say that I would call for you when the time was right? Why can’t you wait patiently?”
I raised my voice deliberately, refusing to bow to his demands.
“What’s the reason for all this fuss about the oracle? It must be because the Grand Duke hinted at it, right? And who told the Duke about the oracle? It was me! So why do you keep disturbing my peace?”
“…My apologies.”
The noble was practically driven out of the audience chamber. As soon as his disgruntled figure departed, it was clear he would immediately report our conversation to Roman.
I chose to ignore it. Regardless of what he babbled about, Roman wouldn’t return for some time. Not because the mine was more important than I was.
To Roman, I was a fish in a bowl. A fish he could easily strangle whenever he wished. A smart fisherman wouldn’t bother steering his boat just to keep an eye on a fishbowl.
Still, I couldn’t completely disregard it, so after the noble left, I finally opened the long-sealed letter from Roman. As expected, its contents were nauseating.
Roman’s particular emphasis was on my purity.
He ranted about how purity was a bride’s greatest virtue and instructed me to remain chaste until the wedding.
I angrily crumpled the letter.
‘What is this nonsense about purity and all that?’
Well, I had anticipated that Roman would eventually spout such drivel. He was notorious for demanding perfection from women while indulging in every vile act himself. It was his insane obsession with purity.
Roman’s desire for me was an extension of that obsession. He always believed he had complete control over me. The pure and noble Astel, revered by everyone.
How could he not covet me?
‘Should I cause trouble before Roman returns?’
Perhaps it was because Roman’s return was imminent. I was imagining things I would never have considered before.
If I couldn’t kill him with my own hands, then I would ruin what he desired. Even if that meant ruining myself. How furious would Roman be to see me in shambles?
I chuckled, picturing Roman’s rage. The thought of sleeping with another man to ruin myself felt like madness, yet I found it oddly trivial.
I decided to forget the letter and focus on my duties as Astel. But my mind was too cluttered, and I soon had to put down my pen.
‘Where might he be now?’
Thinking about the man I had freed was more bearable than tedious paperwork. The man I had emancipated, that nobleman-turned-slave.
‘He must have left the capital, right? Did he find his family? How does it feel to be free?’
Though I could never be free myself, imagining him walking freely in the world gave me a sense of vicarious satisfaction.
‘I imagine he’s smiling now…. right?’
At the same time, I felt guilt and regret. Freedom didn’t erase all the wounds.
“I was too harsh…”
Perhaps I would never be forgiven. I sighed softly and covered my eyes with my hand.
I could only hope that he lived well for both my dead sister and me. And then I found myself laughing at my own absurd attachment to someone I barely knew.
* * *
So, when I saw him again, I was utterly shocked.
It was during one of my nighttime strolls.
Why on earth was he cleaning the temple sculptures?
Even wearing a slave’s clothing!
At first, I was so shocked that I thought I had mistaken him for someone else. But no, it was him. Sensing my presence, he slightly turned around. Upon seeing me, his expression hardened. I snapped out of my daze when I noticed the dirty rag in his hand and hurriedly approached him.
“You there. Why are you still here?”
