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Chapter 12
Meeting in the Unconscious
Drip. Drip.
Somewhere, she heard the sound of water drops falling.
Belladonna frowned as she slowly came to her senses.
Where am I…?
She slowly opened her heavy eyelids and saw a completely new place.
It wasn’t Astanya, it wasn’t Griblata—maybe it wasn’t even in the Empire.
{Are you awake?}
A soft voice sounded inside her head.
Belladonna turned her head in shock, but she only heard the water drops.
The blue, empty space was all around her.
Where is this place?!
She hugged herself and looked around.
{Over here.}
The voice came again, inside her mind.
Belladonna stood up and started to walk forward, not really knowing where to go.
{Good. But that’s not the right way.}
Another voice spoke.
Belladonna turned quickly.
There, right where she was just lying down, a woman with long, silver hair was sitting.
She looked familiar.
Who…?
The woman turned her head and smiled at Belladonna.
Silver hair, blue eyes—she looked just like Saint Belladonna.
Belladonna’s legs gave out, and she dropped to the floor.
{Careful, you’ll hurt yourself.}
The saint spoke kindly.
Belladonna looked at her, dazed.
Was this a mirror…? Or…?
She looked down at herself.
Her hands were rough and blistered, her skin was dark and scarred, her legs were thin.
This is me, the farmer’s daughter from my past life!
{That’s right. That’s you,} the saint said.
Belladonna stared at her with shaking eyes.
The saint smiled softly.
{How does it feel to live as me?}
Belladonna slowly shook her head.
What is this…? Did I die again?
{Don’t worry. You’re not dead. I just called you here because I was curious.}
Curious…? Called me…?
Belladonna still looked lost.
{You still don’t understand, do you?}
No… I don’t know who you are, who I am, or where this is…
She grabbed her hair.
Her fingers touched not silver hair, but split, black hair.
The saint watched her, then asked with a strange smile:
{Which do you like better? That old self, or your life now?}
Of course…
Belladonna almost answered ‘the saint’s life’, but she couldn’t say it.
Is the saint’s life really a good one?
Beautiful, never doing hard work, always eating well, living in a castle…
{So, of course you pick me?}
But then…
She remembered the sly Pope and the two-faced people. Belladonna felt sick.
“Ugh…”
She covered her mouth.
{It’s a hard question, right?}
The saint stood up and spun around with a light smile.
{But you wouldn’t want to go back to a poor, short life as a farmer’s daughter either, right? I feel sorry I gave you such a hard life.}
She stopped spinning and came closer.
She lifted Belladonna’s chin gently and smiled.
{I guess I called you too soon. I just got too curious. I’m not very patient, you see.}
Belladonna looked at her, eyes filling with tears.
She was confused and scared.
{Just live a little longer. I’ll call you again later. Don’t cry.}
As soon as she finished, the blue space began to break apart.
What—what’s happening…?!
The space crumpled up, folding toward Belladonna and the saint, swallowing them.
No…!
“Huff…”
Belladonna woke up, breathing hard from her dream.
Where am I?
The ceiling looked both strange and familiar.
She blinked, trying to calm her racing heart.
‘Did I have a dream? I can’t remember…’
Why are my eyes wet…? Was it a nightmare?
A few minutes later, her heartbeat slowed down. She turned her head slowly.
Plop.
A wet cloth, which had been on her forehead, slid off onto the bed.
She followed it with her eyes, then looked further.
At the edge of her bed, a man was sitting in a chair, watching her quietly.
His cold golden eyes were looking down at her.
Meanwhile, outside…
Fast footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Wolf chased after the man in front.
“My lord! Please calm down!”
Escallion did not slow down.
<My lord! The lady suddenly fainted. The maid said she had a very high fever!>
Damn…
His jaw was tight with anger.
He swore to himself as he hurried.
Bang!
“M-My lord!”
A crying maid stood up as he entered.
On the bed behind her lay Belladonna.
“Since when?” he asked.
“A-a little after lunch… After the jeweler and dressmaker left, she was walking in the garden and suddenly…”
Wolf comforted Cindy, who was still crying.
“You must have been so scared, Cindy. You did well.”
“N-no, sir…”
“What did the doctor say?” Escallion asked with a low voice, fists clenched.
I was outside the castle when this happened…
“T-the doctor said it’s the flu. She must have overdone it or caught a chill…”
“So?”
“They said her life isn’t in danger, but she’s very weak now. We have to watch her until she gets better…”
Only then did Escallion feel able to breathe again.
Still, he was not calm.
“The medicine?”
“I already gave it to her. The fever went down, but she still feels a bit warm…”
“She’s a saint, isn’t she? Can’t she heal herself with her powers?”
“Healing magic uses up her life energy every time. It’s very hard on her body. She can’t easily heal herself.”
“I see.”
Escallion frowned.
“Leave us,” he said.
“Pardon?”
“…”
“Let’s go, let’s go. We should leave now,” Wolf said, pulling Cindy away.
Cindy looked upset, but left with Wolf.
“It’s not because you did something wrong,” Wolf said gently.
“It’s just that… our lord wants to do everything for her himself.”
Cindy still looked confused but left.
Soon, their footsteps faded away.
Escallion sat by Belladonna’s bed, quietly watching her.
She was breathing hard, looking very tired.
He took the now-lukewarm cloth and dipped it in cold water, then gently put it back on her forehead.
He clenched his fists on his lap.
Why am I so angry?
Was it because the woman he brought here with a big dowry was so weak?
Was he angry she just followed him to the sea and caught a fever?
Or… was he angry at himself for not being there when it happened?
Maybe it was all of those reasons.
“Ugh…”
A tiny sound came from her lips.
Escallion looked down at her, face stiff.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He even forgot to breathe.
