Chapter 1
The whispers in my ears swelled into deafening roars. I massaged my throbbing temples, but it was no use. Leaning against the old, peeling wall, I dragged myself toward the mirror. The chilling dampness of the rough floorboards clung to the soles of my feet like sticky sap. My hair was brittle, and my eyes—robbed of their natural light—were as dry and dark as burnt ash. A tremor, born from my listless hands, devoured my entire body. A biting cold, as if I had been thrown naked into a winter snowfield, clamped down on my throat. My ragged breaths slipped through the narrow gap of my lips in a broken rhythm. The screech of the rusty hinges of the wooden door pierced sharply through the buzzing in my ears.
Thud. Thud.
Familiar, heavy footsteps. I let out a wretched gasp. My body, unable to bear even the weight of standing, crumpled to the floor. My palms slammed harshly against the rotting wood. I barely supported my head, which swayed as if hanging from a half-severed neck. Then, pitch-black military boots abruptly filled my vision. As if following a predetermined script, my hand reached out. My fingers, like rotting vines, tangled into the hem of his stiffly ironed trousers. My grotesquely bent fingers could neither fully grasp nor let go of the fabric. My eyes, creaking like rusted hinges, dragged their gaze up his long legs. A colossal shadow fell over my face. A nameless, agonizing emotion drove straight through my heart like a rusted iron spike.
I parted my lips, but I couldn’t utter a single word—not even a breath.
Suddenly, a riot of colors bled into the ash-gray world.
“My Lady! Did you fall asleep again?”
A bright, ringing female voice wrapped around my cheek like a sudden burst of light. The breath I had been holding rushed out all at once. The air, carrying a fresh floral scent and sweet warmth, soothed my chest. I curled my awkwardly half-open hands into tight fists. My heart pounded so violently it felt like it would tear right through the thin fabric of my chemise. A warm hand pressed against my damp forehead.
“Ah... Valerie.”
“You’re doing this on purpose because the Patriarch and Lady Laurel are returning tomorrow, aren’t you?” Valerie wiped my forehead with her handkerchief.
I pushed away the lingering drowsiness and pulled myself up. “No. I just had that bizarre nightmare again.”
“It’s been a while since your dress was fitted. We need to see if it still fits you.”
Valerie patted my back lightly and marched straight to the dressing room. I kicked off the heavy blankets. I repeatedly flexed and relaxed my stiff fingers. Why do I keep grabbing him? If only I could just stop clinging to him... My gaze swept over the ornate, carved frame of the mirror in the corner of the room before I turned my head. She was beaming, looking back and forth between a white satin gown and a pale pink ruffled dress. She tapped her lips thoughtfully.
“My Lady’s hair shines so brilliantly, it’s so hard to choose what to dress you in.”
“Let’s just go with this one. I’ll be covering it anyway.”
As I pointed at the spotless white dress, Valerie’s brows furrowed slightly. She glared at the veil draped over the dressing room door. The silver-threaded fabric shimmered, trembling lightly. While she clicked her tongue and muttered under her breath, I stood straight and faced the mirror. My eyes trailed up the wavy strands of my hair—flowing like spilled blood—until they met my gaze, as hazy and faint as a solitary moon suspended in a pitch-black night.
Ash-gray—
Moonlight—
Ash-gray—
Moonlight—
My broken eyes wavered between reality and the dream. The color, like a thick fog in my mind, made my heart lurch. I absentmindedly brushed beneath my eye and caught Valerie’s gaze in the reflection. I instinctively dropped my hand, and her lips stretched into a wide smile.
“Even you think you’re beautiful, don’t you, My Lady? You definitely take after the late Marchioness in that regard. She used to look in the mirror first thing every morning, too.”
Valerie pulled the laces of the corset from behind. As the corset tightened, my still-racing heart felt as though it was pushing right through my skin. I covertly slipped my fingers between the corset and my waist, tugging it loose.
Clamorous footsteps echoed. Valerie sighed and yanked the door open. Her lips moved, but the shrieking voice of Emily, the other maid, struck the room like a thunderbolt.
“They’re here! Lady Laurel and the Patriarch have just arrived!”
“Already?!” Valerie’s jaw dropped as she looked back at me.
My fingertips suddenly trembled. Why? I pounded my fist against my wildly beating heart. Like a broken machine, my pulse only accelerated. Before my heel could even touch the floor, my other foot sprang up. My legs tangled beneath me as I broke into a frantic run. My body swayed haphazardly. The hem of my skirt caught my legs. I gripped the fabric with both hands as if to tear it off. The familiar hallway seemed to stretch out, rolling out a long tongue. My lips grew dry as my ankles kept slipping.
“My Lady! You forgot your veil!”
The maids’ shouts faded into the distance, replaced by the nearing sound of horses snorting. The trembling in my fingertips now shook my entire body. Why?
My violently beating heart plummeted. A second later, my knees hit the dirt.
Following right after, my breath hitched.
The pristine, glowing white dress was instantly soiled by yellowish dirt. A sharp, stinging pain scraped my knuckles. I stared at my hands clinging to the ruined fabric. The pale, fragile skin was already blossoming red with fresh scratches.
Thud. Thud.
Am I dreaming again?
Before my senses could even shudder, the color drained from the yellowish dirt, turning to an ash-gray in a single breath. Pitch-black military boots appeared before my eyes. My will-less hand reached out toward his leg once more. Right then, a woman’s sharp scream carved through my ears like a blade.
“Good God! Do you still trust him?!”
Heavily painted lips, brilliantly gleaming hair—a woman leaning into the embrace of the sun.
Her eyebrows shot up toward the sky. The man with the rock-hard jawline turned his head away from me. Blinded by the piercing light, I tumbled backward. Before my hollow shell of a body could be stained black, I began to scramble away.
Step. Step.
Panic-stricken feet widened the distance.
But her mocking laughter, slapping against my cheeks, only grew louder.
My back hit a wide windowsill.
A woman with a slender figure and long hair, and a man with a fierce gaze and a sturdy build.
Their figures framed perfectly like a painting in my eyes—then vanished.
An ash-gray sky.
I, the solitary blemish, had been erased.
A violent storm clawed through my body.
And at the end of it...
My lips parted soundlessly. A heavy impact slammed against the back of my head. The edges of my vision blackened. Now, not just my fingers, but my entire body grew stiff. A murky, pitch-black darkness flowed sluggishly, completely swallowing my sight.
Then, her sharp scream rang out again.
“Good God! What are you still doing sitting there!?”
My shoulders instinctively flinched.
I blinked my hazy eyes rapidly.
The dry earth was spitting up yellowish, dusty clouds, and my knuckles, gripping the dress, were stained red. My hair, cascading down over the gown, reflected a crimson glare in the sunlight. I grabbed it, trying to hide the bloody hue.
Right then—
A colossal shadow swallowed me whole.
The cold, dark, oppressive shadow sucked away all the sunlight.
Dirty boots covered in mud and dark blood,
The fingertips of deep, ashen skin I had only seen in my nightmare,
Sleeves frayed and caked with blood and dirt,
Forearms bulging with thick veins,
Tightly shut lips,
Piercing yellow eyes.
My heart crumpled as if it had been thrown from the top of a tower. All the blood drained from my body. I couldn’t process any sound, any smell, any color. It was the sheer weight of his presence. My heart, my lungs, all my organs twisted and squeezed. His gaze, his breath, even the slightest movement felt as though they were crafted with the sole purpose of burning me to ashes.
Haushan Hepatica.
My voiceless lips moved on their own, muttering his name. The man I had clung to so pitifully in my dream, the man who had gifted me with nothing but suffocating dread. Ah... it wasn’t a dream.
The man who would murder me in three years had just appeared before my eyes.
