Chapter 005. Their Twisted Hero (1)

“Funny enough, I have that old woman and her granddaughter with me.”

Sionne’s fingers twitched with a murderous impulse. He wanted to strangle her, to stop her from spewing any more of her vile words.

“!”

Rosalyn grabbed Sionne’s face with both hands, preventing him from lunging at her in anger. The dagger in her hand naturally pressed against his skin.

“What do you think? Should I really kill you? If you want, I can do it right now.”

The sharp blade left a thin red line on his pale skin.

“…Are Merilyn and Anna safe right now?”

The situation had changed. He had been ready to embrace death, but the mention of those names kept him from surrendering to it.

“For now.”

“‘For now’? What is that supposed to mean…!”

“Once I kill you, there’s no reason for me to keep Merilyn and Anna around anymore.”

To Rosalyn, Merilyn and Anna were nothing more than leverage to control Sionne.

“If you touch them, I will kill you.”

Despite the blade near his eyes, the hatred in his gaze didn’t waver.

“Kill me?”

Rosalyn laughed at his threat with a single question.

“And how exactly will you do that while you’re alive?”

“….”

“What’s wrong? Do you want to live now?”

As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. In just that short time, his mind had changed.

He couldn’t die.

‘Not while Merilyn and Anna are still in her hands.’

Rosalyn smirked, finally satisfied with where the conversation had led.

“I hate repeating myself more than anything.”

She stabbed the dagger into the floor right in front of Sionne’s knees.

*Thud.*

“So, let’s make this clear. From now on, I control your life and death, Sionne Feitan.”

Sionne stared at the dagger buried before him. As he gazed at the dark, gleaming blade, a question rose to the surface.

“What do you want from me?”

Rosalyn smiled, her expression as wicked and vibrant as a poisonous mushroom. She instinctively knew that she now had Sionne completely under her control.

“In the cold, barren North, your role is to entertain me. Serve me by day, and serve me by night. It’s not a difficult task.”

Though she called him a “spoil of war,” her words sounded like she wanted him as a lover.

“If I do that well, will you leave Merilyn and Anna unharmed?”

“I promise. If you don’t believe me, I can write it in blood—there’s plenty of it right now.”

Rosalyn raised her bloodstained hand with a mocking smile, but it didn’t feel like a joke to Sionne. He scowled, but he had no choice but to grasp onto this sickening offer.

“Why me? You could find many others who could do such things.”

“….”

Rosalyn didn’t answer immediately. She studied his face for a moment, her lashes lowering as she pondered.

“Maybe because your face suits my taste?”

She reached out and wiped the blood that was trickling down his jawline. Her hand only smeared the blood further across his skin.

Without hesitation, she wiped the blood off her fingers onto Sionne’s clothes.

“Or maybe I just enjoy tormenting the virtuous and righteous Prince?”

Rosalyn hummed softly as she stepped back, her movements graceful and unhurried. She walked slowly over to the window.

“Or perhaps… it’s because you remind me of someone.”

Though her reasons seemed random, there was a truth hidden within her words. But she had no intention of revealing that truth.

“In any case, it’s important that you start recognizing your place.”

Shwack.

Rosalyn pulled open the curtains and flung the window wide.

After gazing out the window for a while, she turned back and continued speaking.

“From now on, even if you’re curious, swallow your questions. That’s how you’ll behave in your position.”

With her back to the window, Rosalyn’s face was cast in shadow, making it hard to see her expression.

Behind her, however, the sky spread out in an overwhelmingly brilliant display. Infuriatingly so.

‘Ah…’

Yes, infuriating enough to make him want to live, even if it meant enduring hell.

* * *

“Ugh…”

Early in the morning, Sionne groaned. You’d think he’d have grown used to the pain that accompanied waking up every day by now, but it was no easier to bear.

There wasn’t a single part of his body that didn’t ache. Everything felt sore and unpleasant, even the luxurious blankets covering him.

Soft bedding, expensive medicine, fine meals—all things he had been granted after his status shifted from that of a prisoner to a spoil of war.

Of course, all of this was only given to him on the floor of Rosalyn’s bedroom. Whether this was an upgrade in status or a downgrade was something still up for debate.

“Ugh, damn it!”

On the large bed, Rosalyn was tossing and turning in frustration. Her insomnia was severe, especially in the morning hours.

The problem was that the worse her condition got, the worse her temper became. A pillow flew from Rosalyn’s bed, hitting Sionne squarely.

“Please… please just be quiet.”

Her head throbbed from lack of sleep, and her joints ached all over. But the worst thing of all was the sensation of bugs crawling across her skin. The only way to escape the horrifying feeling was to pass out from exhaustion.

“Before I really end up killing you.”

She threatened in a dying voice, turning her back and pulling the blanket over her head.

Sionne glanced briefly at Rosalyn’s side of the bed and shook his head slightly.

‘Rosalyn de Hernia, no, Rosalyn de Anata is not in her right mind.’

From what he had observed over the past few days, he couldn’t deny this fact.

‘It’s probably because of the war.’

For a moment, Sionne’s expression turned odd.

Part of him felt satisfaction that the woman who had destroyed his country had gone mad. But another part of him felt unsettled, as her madness reminded him of his fallen comrades.

‘…I don’t know.’

Ever since the war, he hadn’t been able to feel any emotions clearly. Whatever he felt just seemed to leak out of the gaping hole in his chest.

Except for hatred and the desire to kill.

Sionne lifted an arm and covered his eyes. Maybe there wasn’t just one broken person in this room.

“Yawn…”

It was late in the afternoon when Rosalyn, who had been sleeping like the dead, stirred. Thus began another monotonous, tiresome day.

The first thing Rosalyn did upon waking was brew herself some valerian tea. She didn’t leave this task to anyone else; she did it herself.

After downing two cups in a row, she finally started to notice her surroundings.

“I’ll pull the blanket back for a moment. I need to apply the medicine to your wounds.”

Next to Sionne on the floor, a young maid was carefully applying medicine to his wounds. The maid scooped a large amount of ointment into her small hand and applied it to Sionne’s abdomen.

“Wait.”

Rosalyn’s previously indifferent gaze suddenly sharpened. She looked like a predator that had just found a new toy to play with.

“Hey, you.”

“…Yes?”

The maid, not expecting to be addressed, flinched and looked up, startled.

“I’ll do it. You can leave.”

“H-His Highness is going to apply it himself?”

“Yes, me.”

Rosalyn emphasized each word, causing Sionne’s face to contort in displeasure. But despite his feelings, the maid quickly packed up her things and stood.

“Here it is, Your Highness.”

The maid handed the ointment over with both hands, bowing deeply as she did so. Rosalyn took it absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on the girl.

As the maid quietly left the room and carefully closed the door behind her, Rosalyn spoke again.

“I told you not to talk to the prince, didn’t I? Keep a close watch on your tongue if you don’t want it cut off.”

She tossed the ointment lightly into the air and caught it as she warned the girl.

“Eek!”

The girl’s frightened face briefly appeared between the door crack before she disappeared behind the closing door.

“…”

Sionne frowned at how easily Rosalyn had scared the young maid, but he swallowed the words of reproach rising in his throat. He knew better than to voice them.

In the meantime, Rosalyn had approached Sionne and looked down at his bare upper body.

Unable to endure her steady gaze, Sionne quickly pulled the blanket up to cover himself.

“What’s this? Don’t you need to remove the blanket to apply the medicine?”

“I’m fine.”

“Whether you’re fine or not is for me to decide, not you.”

With firm hands, Rosalyn yanked the blanket away from Sionne. His upper body was exposed in an instant.

“Only a few days have passed, and your wounds are already healing well.”

Just as she said, the redness around his wounds had begun to fade. However, the scarred areas still looked fragile, like they could easily worsen if not properly cared for.

Rosalyn, staring blankly at his chest, unscrewed the cap of the ointment jar.

“I can—no, I will do it myself.”

Sionne reached out, intending to take the jar from her. He might not have had much strength in his body, but he could at least apply the medicine on his own.

Smack. Rosalyn coldly slapped his hand away.

“I’ll handle what’s mine. Don’t be so dramatic.”