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Chapter 9
Please Take Me to the Temple
Rian couldn’t believe the woman’s reckless actions. Even her last words before losing consciousness had been something childish like, “Make sure you eat something delicious.”
Unlike him, her physical condition was serious.
She had fallen from a height of three stories, and on top of that had taken the impact meant for Rian. It was only because there had been a thick thicket below that she had escaped with “just” a few broken bones, but the doctor said she wouldn’t be able to walk properly for several weeks.
There was also the possibility of damage to her brain. However, for now there was no way to know—they would have to wait until Anasta woke up.
Hearing that, Rian felt his chest sink heavily.
Because of his actions, this woman had been pushed to the brink of death.
It felt as though he had killed her himself.
“… Why did this woman jump with me?”
First came fear, then confusion, then denial—and finally, Anasta.
Before long, Rian began blaming Anasta for jumping with him. It wasn’t that he had killed her; it had been her choice. And yet, that choice was tormenting him as well.
“Miss only wanted to save you, young master,” the head maid said.
Rian couldn’t understand her. He hadn’t treated her well for even a few days—he had harassed her, even tried to drive her away. And yet she had wanted to save him?
“Damn it…”
The truth was, when he tried to throw himself out the window, he really had wanted to die. Or perhaps it had been pride—nothing more than wounded pride.
He’d had seizures before, but this one had been different. His head had spun until his mind went blank, and his body had trembled beyond control.
What angered him most was the look in Anasta’s eyes—the look of pity.
She had been sold into this place, and yet she pitied him.
In that moment, a sharp crack split Rian’s pride. Reflected in the woman’s eyes were his paralyzed legs, his arm convulsing with spasms, and his face twisted in agony.
Rian felt utterly miserable.
Miserable that a woman had seen his weakness. Miserable that he himself was like this.
Drowned in that self-loathing, he had tried to die. It was no different from dying because of her. She should have been blaming him—but instead, everything had been turned upside down.
He was fine.
And she was the one lying unconscious.
“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!”
Rian hated this woman.
He hated her to the point of madness.
From the very first impression, he hadn’t liked her. And he was angry at this woman who acted completely contrary to her expectations.
It was two days later when Anasta woke up.
The moment she opened her eyes, the doctor began asking her questions: her name, year of birth, current location, and her last memories. Anasta answered them in a dazed voice. Then Anasta’s eyes blinked.
“Young master wasn’t seriously hurt, turned out. It’s thanks to you, miss.”
“That’s a relief.”
“The relief belongs to you, actually. There doesn’t seem to be any problem with your head.”
“My body hurts.”
“You have broken bones. The same goes for your legs, so you won’t be able to walk for several weeks. You’ll need a wheelchair.”
Anasta nodded.
After that, the head maid came, then the butler, and then the maid who changed her bedding. Even an unexpected visitor—the lady of the house—paid a visit.
Apparently it had been a while since she had been to the annex, as she remarked, “Surprisingly, it’s quite clean,” while observing Anasta’s condition.
“Your body really is healthy. To only have suffered this much from such a fall, that’s remarkable.”
“… I apologize, Ma’am.”
“You saved Rian, right? I heard you sensed the danger first and threw yourself forward. He’s very grateful to you for that.”
She was referring to the Duke.
“Sometimes he gets very sensitive when there’s an unexpected seizure. This wasn’t the first time you tried to die. And yet, to throw yourself out the window… no fear at all, huh?”
The lady pressed her temple and let out a sigh.
“I’ve moved your room to the first floor. Anyway, with your body like this, you should get some proper rest.”
Unintentionally, Anasta had been granted a chance to rest. As soon as the lady left, she herself felt relaxed against the bed.
Then she glanced at the door in front of her. Surely, Rian would have heard she had woken up, yet it was easily quiet.
‘Rian Solter. Does he not want to see me?’
Maybe he hated her even more for ruining his attempt at death.
Anasta gave a bitter smile and closed her eyes. For now, whether it was Rian or anyone else, she needed to get a proper sleep.
After sleeping soundly in her bed for the first time in a long while, Anasta dreamed of Natasha.
Natasha had always been by her side whenever she wanted to die. When Anasta deviated from the cold, Natasha would hold her tightly. She had even took the beatings from Anasta’s parents herself, sometimes bearing scars in Anasta’s place.
And yet, Natasha always smiled. She admired God, and habitually said that once she was free, she wanted to become a nun. She wanted to heal those with painful wounds, to comfort and embrace them.
Anasta thought that profession suited Natasha perfectly.
But that happy dream was shattered by the appearance of a certain viscount.
“That girl pleases me.”
A gloomy man who looked much older than he really was.
He pointed directly at Anasta with his finger. She had just turned seventeen, and outwardly she looked every bit the young lady.
“Shall I have that girl for myself?”
At the viscount’s words, the countess standing beside him furrowed her brow.
“She’s only fifteen. It’s too early for marriage.”
Anasta was actually seventeen. The countess had lied because Anasta was exceptional; a girl of her caliber could be sold to someone of even higher rank, wealth, and worth.
“Fifteen?”
“Yes. Fifteen is not suitable for marriage, as you know.”
But the viscount’s family was extremely wealthy. When it came to money, they were unrivaled, and he answered with complete confidence.
“I will pay ten times more.”
“What?! Bu-but…”
It looked like Anasta was about to be sold.
Anasta curled up, trembling. She had expected something like this might happen someday, but not so soon. She would rather die than be sold to that man.
At that moment, Natasha raised her trembling hand and grasped her firmly.
“Take me instead of Anasta.”
Natasha spoke in a confident voice, without a single tremor.
“Anasta’s often sick. She cannot handle household chores. But I can do everything.”
“Everything?”
“Take me instead.”
“What’s your name?”
“Natasha. Natasha Winterif.”
Even on the brink, with her back against the edge, Anasta could not understand her sister’s self-sacrifice.
‘Why… why did she…?’
“Anasta, you can do it. You can read well, and you’re even more capable than I am.”
The count and countess were overjoyed, and before Anasta could stop them, they accepted the payment and sold Natasha.
Before leaving, Natasha grabbed Anasta’s shoulder and said:
“Sister, don’t cry. Okay? Please don’t let’s run away together instead!”
“Don’t be silly. Are you hoping to get beaten again? Anasta, I’m getting married, but you’re smart—you can escape from this house.”
“Or just wait a little. Since I’m marrying a wealthy husband, I’ll get money too. I’ll come find you, okay?”
The next day, Natasha climbed into the carriage.
The loss of her sister only deepened Anasta’s rebellious feelings toward her parents. But when letters from Natasha stopped coming, she changed her mind.
She would marry into a wealthy count’s, earn money, and then go rescue Natasha.
“…”
Anasta sensed someone nearby. It was quiet—still a tense noise. So who was near her? The head maid? Or the butler?
“… Damn it.”
It was Rian’s voice.
Anasta pressed her eyes shut, resisting the urge to open them.
Why was he here? Could it be that he really intended to harm her? She had lain in bed thinking that someone sick wouldn’t be a threat—what a disaster.
As she debated whether to open her eyes, she sensed his presence moving away.
—Thunk!
The sound of the door closing reached her.
Finally, Anasta slowly raised her eyelids and quietly pushed herself up.
She soon guessed the reason. He had come to see her injuries.
A husband with a limited lifespan. He had planned to run away with his sister after receiving a dowry, but here was a man as pitiful as she was.
Perhaps a man much like herself.
