Chapter 39

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: A Hollow Despair
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Roena was trying to turn me into a beast. To make me act on impulse and ruin everything, just as the Cisse of the past had done.

Taking a few deep breaths, I barely managed to suppress my anger. Clinging to the last thread of my patience, I asked her,

“Is this also your way of not being a bystander?”

“No, it’s the beginning. Cisse, I truly think of you as my sister. I care for you. So I’ll do my best to help you. No, I should have done this from the start, but I think it’s too late. So please, don’t turn away from me.”

I thought that if I accused her of caring more for a servant than for me, she would lock herself in her room and agonize for days. That’s why I pushed her so harshly, even with Mago watching.

But it seems I underestimated Roena. Who would have thought she would so quickly find a justification for her actions and come up with such a plausible excuse!

Roena, the lovely angel of House Vischwartz, seemed weak, yet she was more brazen and strangely strong than anyone. But curiously, I was the only one who could see that strength.

“Thank you. I’ll truly cherish that sentiment. Your kindness moves me to tears, Roena.”

I managed to force the words out through trembling lips. Fortunately, the voice that emerged was as steady as ever.

“But it’s all right. Thanks to our aunt’s teachings, I was able to learn a few things—not many, but exactly what I need right now.”

“Cisse…”

“Roena, if I say I’m fine, I’m truly fine. These aren't empty words. If you want to help me, start by trusting me first. That would make me even happier.”

Only today did I realize that when I get incredibly angry, my voice becomes steadier and my breathing calmer than usual. It was as if I were in a dream, my words and breath scattering like mist, leaving me dizzy. Holding back my anger was this exhausting.

My body felt limp, like a rain-soaked leaf. Was that why? I felt terribly weary and wanted nothing more than to lie down in bed and rest. Forcibly restraining the hand that yearned to fly toward Roena’s cheek had drained a severe amount of my mental energy.

“By the way, could I treat you to tea in return for your kind words another time? I’m quite exhausted right now.”

“Yes.”

“Ah, that’s right. I’m truly grateful that you rushed to my side without even a moment to straighten your clothes, Roena.”

“Hm?”

I smiled at her as she stared, her eyes wide with confusion. I was scraping together the last dregs of patience from the very bottom of my soul, putting forth every ounce of effort I had. Swallowing the urge to retch, I forced the smile.

“I care for you, too. I’m so glad to have a sister like you, Roena.”

Who wouldn’t be hurt when the other person, instead of reacting as intended, presents their own way of overcoming the problem? In this absurd, infuriatingly wretched situation, I tasted despair.

I wanted you to suffer more, Roena.

It was truly agonizing to feel the words I couldn’t speak catch on the tip of my tongue, only to vanish into emptiness.

***

Futility and emptiness.

I know these two feelings all too well. I tasted them with bitter depth when I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I could never have what I wanted, and when the life I had dedicated to that pursuit felt worthless. And I knew that ‘surrender’ and ‘resignation’ would soon follow.

I considered the other side of these feelings to be ‘loneliness.’ Because I knew that no one in this world could ever empathize with or understand me.

And why would they? Who would call a base heart, brimming with malice, lovely and caress it tenderly?

This is the crucial factor that separates me from Roena. With only myself to rely on, a direct blow would cause me to collapse completely, beyond recovery.

Is it truly right to continue like this?

Will I lose to her again?

Self-doubt and skepticism, the nightmare that I might repeat the past—these things tormented me endlessly. I was the one forging this path, so no one could offer me an answer. No, they were unable to.

Because whatever the outcome, I would be the one to have caused it. Therefore, I must also bear the responsibility.

So I was scared. I was afraid. If the future were certain, I could act freely, but since it wasn’t, I found myself measuring every move and watching every shadow.

Isn’t it laughable? After acting as if everything I’d done was nothing, here I was, trembling in fear after just one conversation.

But I am someone who has already seen the end of her life. A life riddled with terrible insults and crushing defeats.

That is why the contempt and disgrace, the ridicule and condemnation I had tasted countless times in my past were still vividly alive within me.

So I had no choice but to ask.

Am I really doing the right thing?

Lying face down on my canopied bed, I questioned myself. At the same time, I mocked myself, for I seemed so foolish, collapsing so pathetically after a single blow.

From a hidden corner of my heart, the me of the past spoke with a sneer.

Roena hasn’t been hurt at all by anything you’ve done. Poor Cisse. Pitiful Cisse. You’re going to repeat the past again. You’re going to lose to her.

I let out a silent scream, denying her words.

No. I’m doing fine. And I’ll continue to do so.

The me of the past, a small woman so thin she looked like a skeleton, mocked me with eyes that glinted venomously.

But you feel it, too. Roena thinks so little of you that she sees everything you’ve done as nothing more than the tantrum of a childish brat. Cisse, don’t deny it. There’s no way you don’t know what I know. You’ll lose, just like me.

Yes, this is it. The reason I’m in agony. The reason I’m suffering. The real reason I, I want to scream like a madwoman.

All this time, Roena has only ever seen me as a pitiful object to be cared for!

Letting out another silent scream, I pounded the pillow with my fists.

Who do you think you are? What gives you the right? How dare you!! To me!!!

I was breathless, a boundless rage burning fiercely in my chest, eating away at me. Like a fever, it tormented me endlessly, leaving me gasping in prolonged agony. The tears streaming down my face were the screams I couldn’t let out for fear of being heard.

I wish you were dead, Roena. I really, truly wish you were dead.

Like a madwoman, I cried and laughed at the same time. I buried my face in the covers, sobbing quietly and cursing Roena, then burst into tears again, disgusted with myself.

I thought that, unlike in the past, I was well-prepared. I was confident that if I continued on this path, I would one day be able to seize victory.

But I was still a fool, the same stupid Cisse I had always been.

I almost miss the me of the past, who ran wild without knowing anything. If I were her, I wouldn’t be crying silently like this; I would have followed my temper, grabbed her by the neck, and slammed her to the ground.

But what is this ridiculous state I’m in now? Instead, I’m so concerned with what others think that I can’t do anything properly. I’m caught in my own trap, flailing about.

“Young Miss, what is wrong? Why won’t you let me call the physician? Something terrible will happen if this continues.”

Marie’s shadow paced beyond the curtains. She was pretending to be worried about me, locked away in my bed, eating nothing and crying silently.

I answered by throwing a cushion off the bed. It was better to have her think I was throwing a childish tantrum than to let her see me cry. There was no need to be looked down upon by Marie, of all people.

“Young Miss, I’ll leave the soup on the small table by the bed. Please be sure to eat it.”

With the sound of fabric brushing against the floor, Marie left the room. Hating even that sound, I pressed a pillow tightly over my ears and closed my eyes. Everything was a bother. I didn’t even want to think. Sleepiness simply washed over me.

So, ignoring Marie’s plea, I fell into a deep sleep, desperately hoping I could rest peacefully, without any dreams.

When I opened my eyes, it was the dim light of dawn. The kind of early morning when even the maids like Marie would not yet be awake. A slightly chilly, damp air drifted to my nose.

I drew back the curtains and got out of bed. Draping a small shawl over my shoulders, I left the room.

Come to think of it, it had been a long time since I’d woken up this early. When I was young, I used to get up at this hour to draw water. The water-sellers who drew water at dawn to sell to the city folk hated it when anyone else came to their territory to draw water. Once, I’d naively gone to fetch water and ran into them, earning a hard slap across the cheek.

The water jug was very large and heavy for a child like me to carry. I often spilled water, soaking my clothes completely. But water was necessary for washing my face and preparing food.

Besides my mother, who left for work before dawn, I was the only one who could do this chore. Rubbing my heavy, sleepy eyes, I would go out in search of a clear well to draw water. Those moments were incredibly lonely and desolate.

I wanted to sleep a little longer, to dawdle. At the same time, I thought that wiping the sweat from my brow as I panted for breath felt just like wiping away tears. It’s still true now, but back then, I was a very pitiful and lonely child. Yes, just like the child standing before me now.

The garden where I stood was not a place where servants or peddlers would pass. Therefore, no one other than myself, my maids, or my knight could be here.

But a child was standing in the garden. She was looking at the flowers, damp with morning dew, and her bright smile was lovely. A small water jug at her feet told me what she was doing. I walked slowly toward her.

“Oh? Who are you, miss?”

The child asked me. Her voice, ringing clearly through the dawn air, sounded as cheerful as a small bell.

She was a rather cute girl, with plump, rosy cheeks. If not for the tattered clothes on her small frame, one might have thought she was from a well-to-do family.