Chapter 23

Chapter 23

“I don’t want to die...”

As Cassis had only been pretending to be unconscious, he had overheard everything she had said that first day in his room. At the time, he wasn’t sure what she had meant, but the blood on the floor made those mournful words come rushing back to his thoughts. He also recalled the conversation the guards had exchanged beforehand as they dragged him to this room.

“Did you hear how the fourth mistress mentioned Master Achille earlier?”

“Does she really think that toy resembles the young master? I don’t see it.”

“Me neither, but maybe it does to them. Well, that would sort of explain why both Her Ladyship and Lady Roxana have taken an interest in him.”

“Wasn’t the young master around the same age as this boy when he died? Maybe that’s what made her think of him.”

What the two were gossiping about may not have had anything to do with Roxana coughing up blood, but it made him uneasy nevertheless. His chest felt as if it was filling with sand. He had experienced the feeling before when Roxana had offered to treat his wounds herself. Upon hearing her mention her brother, he couldn’t help but think of his own sister Sylvia. Had he not felt that slight bond, he probably would not have let her touch his bare back.

Scowling again, he gruffly flicked the tangle of curls from his forehead. At the same time, he recalled the sad smile Roxana gave him before she left him that day.

“I thought you hated me, but I see now that you even care for your enemy, so thank you for...”

“...being so kind.”

Then her declaration of thanks, which had been close to a whisper, rang in his ears and made his chest feel even heavier. He forced a determined look onto his face and told himself to stop daydreaming. As he continued to scan the room, he finally noticed the lunch he had forgotten. The food had already gone cold, but despite what little appetite he had left, he shoveled the contents of the tray into his mouth. For the time, he had to concentrate on regaining his strength. If not for his own sake, he had to for the sake of his family who he knew must be worried sick over his whereabouts.

* * *

As soon as I returned to my room, I washed all the blood away. I had successfully sent Jeremy off to his room by pointing out that his hair was too tangled with blood. He came back to my room after washing up though, then spent a fair amount of time lolling about in there. Once Jeremy left, I perched on my bed. I had hidden my newly bandaged arm under my sleeve. I supposed I had dressed it too hastily upon exiting the bath since the bandage was soaked and turning pink as it lay over my self-inflicted wound from the incubation chamber.

Slowly, I unwrapped the bandage. A fairly long scar stood out on my pale arm. After studying it for a moment, I called out to my butterflies.

“Yoo-hoo! Time for dinner!”

Before long, dark crimson poison butterflies began to appear here and there. Seeing the 10 or so that were alight on my injured arm did seem a bit macabre, but as their host, I had to provide them their main source of energy regularly—my blood. The fact that I had already succeeded in hatching an egg was a secret. In order to conceal the truth, I had told everyone that the first two eggs had been failures. But the truth was that I had actually only lost one.

The butterfly I had previously sent to the western border and the one I had hidden in Cassis’ room were both born from the first successful batch. The poison butterflies and I seemed exceptionally compatible. Of course, I had been hoping for the best when I first had Emily bring the eggs back from their lair, but I did worry over whether I could really gain mastery over these fluttering beasts. Never mind that they only had a 30 percent chance of survival from the embryonic stage.

As quasi-spirits, poison butterflies differ greatly from most living creatures. They remain out of sight and appear only when I call upon them. The way they reproduce is also quite unique. Hatchlings from the same egg reproduce among themselves. At the time, I had less than a dozen, but I had expected them to number in the tens, or even hundreds, eventually. What’s more, their prevailing traits depended not only on the type, but even the toxicity of the poison they were exposed to. I could almost see how these flying servants could very literally consume their master to death for not providing them with proper food. But living on the Agrece compound, which overflowed with poison, gave me the advantage I needed to nurture them. And luckily for me, my butterflies all seemed to like the taste of my poisoned blood. Therefore, I was certain they would remain my faithful servants and weapons until my death at the very least.

I was also confident that they would prove useful in carrying out whatever plans I came up with in order to survive this story. Due to their importance, I had hidden the fact that I had successfully hatched one of the eggs already. Nobody knew. Not Jeremy, not my mother, not even Emily. My plan was to keep it a secret at least until I could set Cassis free. When my wound finally stopped bleeding, I sent all but one of the butterflies back.

“Head to the western border.”

I ordered yet another poison butterfly to head west since communication with the first one I sent had become unstable. I had assumed it was due to the distance, which also made it impossible for me to recall the poor creature back to me. As I was still learning, I was not that adept at handling several poison butterflies at once. In order to strengthen our bond, I felt I needed to increase the toxicity of the poison I was taking. Shortly after feeding them, I summoned Emily to instruct her to increase both the concentration and the amount of poison she should bring me going forward.

* * *

As I was still a teenager and therefore underaged, I still needed to train in a great number of things. It was on my way back from one such training session when I ran into someone who I would have much rather avoided.

“Why hello, Xana!”

A woman called out to me while standing in the middle of a verdant field with an open parasol. It was Deon’s mother, Maria. She was a brunette with violet eyes, and she exclaimed gleefully upon running into me.

“Oh, hello. Are you out for a walk, Lady Maria?”

My tone was sweet enough, but I was exerting all my might to keep myself from frowning.

“I must say, Xana, you become more beautiful every time I see you.”

She made that remark just as she had hundreds of other times before. Unlike Deon, whose mind one could hardly fathom an inkling of what went on inside it, Maria basically wore her heart on her sleeve. The way she admired my looks so openly almost seemed naïve. It didn’t help that she had a round, innocent-looking face and was small in stature either. She was the sort of person who reminded most everyone of a cuddly animal.

She also always traveled with a throng of her underlings in tow. Maria made a habit of being very kind towards me whenever we crossed paths, which for some reason never made me feel any more comfortable around her. Aside from the fact that she was Deon’s mother, I just didn’t like her personality. Maria was Lante’s third wife. She was famous for being bubbly and outgoing, which made her vastly different from the likes of both Jeremy’s mother and mine.

“Sierra has always been so agelessly beautiful, yet your beauty is even more amazingly breathtaking than your mother’s, Xana.”

“Oh no, I don’t even compare.”

“I’m not exaggerating, dear. Honestly, I don’t know if there exists a superlative that could do you justice.”

Maria continued to stare at me while complimenting my looks.

“Anyway, since we ran into each other like this, won’t you join me for some tea? It’s not often that we get such chances.”

I imagine that if someone had overheard her casual invitation to tea, they might mistake the Agrece compound as some sort of holiday getaway.

“You know, dear, it’s been a while since I saw Deon. You children in this house are always so busy. Why don’t I ask him to join us as well, hm?”