Silence settled between them.
A heavy silence—one the night itself dared not disturb.
They stared at each other,
gaze against gaze,
as if every word left unsaid
was crowding behind their lashes.
Then…
her hands slipped slowly from his face,
as though she were letting go of something
she no longer wanted.
She turned slightly
and rose with deliberate calm,
standing before him.
The night breeze threaded through her hair,
stirring it softly,
brushing her cheeks,
while her eyes—
sharp. steady. fearless.
She turned to leave.
And he—
remained still,
watching her.
Then,
unhurried,
a smile formed on his lips.
A slow smile.
Ambiguous.
He stood as well,
one step at a time,
and spoke in a voice as quiet
as a whispered confession:
“If that’s what you want…”
He paused,
then smiled wider—
a beautiful smile.
Beautiful enough to deceive.
“I like your honesty, Elise.”
He lifted his face toward the moonlight,
silver spilling over his features,
revealing a beauty that felt wrong—
and behind it,
a gentle madness
that smiled back.
She blinked once.
Not in fear—
just brief surprise.
She crossed her arms over her chest,
twirled a strand of hair around her finger carelessly,
and looked straight at him.
She spoke while holding his gaze,
and he listened.
“I have conditions… if you want to start over.”
One brow lifted slightly.
A silent question.
So she said, her tone clear, cold, and absolute:
“First—
don’t push me from high places.
And don’t touch me.”
She paused.
Then continued, as if discussing something mundane:
“Second—
I won’t stop you from killing.
Kill whoever you want.”
Then she added, her eyes unblinking:
“But…
if any maid disappears,
I want to know first
who she was.”
She smiled.
A small, clever, honest smile.
“I don’t want to be a heroine.”
Then, almost a whisper:
“And I don’t want to be a victim.”
She placed a hand over her chest,
where her heart beat with eerie calm,
and said softly—yet with crushing weight:
“I just want
to be human.”
She lifted her chin slightly.
“A human who lives without trouble.”
“Who sleeps without fearing she’ll be killed.”
“Who eats without worrying the food will run out.”
Then she lowered her hand
and added with lethal simplicity:
“That’s all.”
Silence returned.
Adrian stood before her,
staring deeply,
as though he were seeing her
for the first time—
and the last—
and every time at once.
Then
he smiled.
A smile calmer than it had any right to be.
He lowered his head slightly,
as if acknowledging something
that needed no explanation.
He extended his hand.
Long fingers. Slender. Pallid—almost sickly.
With deliberate slowness,
he pulled up his sleeve.
His arm was revealed.
Unnaturally pale,
veins faintly visible beneath the skin,
as though life itself
moved through them carefully.
Elise’s eyes widened instantly.
“Don’t tell me you—”
He cut her off gently,
his tone devoid of emotion:
“We’ll sign a contract.”
She blinked.
“A contract?”
He nodded.
Then raised a finger, pointing first at her.
“On your terms.”
Then he turned the finger to himself.
To his chest.
“And on mine.”
Her expression hardened.
“And what is it?”
He looked at her.
A direct look.
Clean.
Terrifying.
And said:
“If you betray me…
I won’t kill you.”
Her eyes widened further.
Her breath caught.
Then he continued, without hesitation:
“I’ll kill myself.”
Silence fell.
A killing silence—
as if the air itself had stopped moving.
“…What?”
The word slipped out of her, weak, disbelieving.
He lifted his sleeve a little higher,
as though explaining something clinically.
“The medication I take
isn’t optional.”
He looked down at his arm,
then back at her.
“If I neglect it, I weaken.”
“And if I go too far with what I’m about to do now…”
He paused.
Swallowed.
“It could end in death.”
She cut in sharply, unable to hide her unrest:
“What are you talking about?”
“What nonsense is this?”
“What are you planning to do?!”
Her eyes were wide,
her voice louder than she intended,
raw concern slipping out
without permission.
Adrian looked at her—
and that look…
he liked it.
Not her fear.
But that expression—
the concern that betrayed care
she hadn’t asked for,
and didn’t want to admit.
He smiled deeper.
Calmer.
More unhinged.
And said softly,
almost kindly:
“Don’t worry.”
He stepped closer.
“It’s just… insurance.”
He lifted his gaze to hers,
and in it was a dark glint—
honest in a way that was terrifying.
“A contract
that doesn’t allow betrayal.”
He pulled the vial from his pocket with terrifying calm,
as if it were nothing more
than a pocket watch.
He lifted it slightly.
Then turned it over.
The pills rolled across the grass with a faint sound—
cracking, crumbling, scattering.
Soft clicks.
Yet each one struck Elise’s chest
like a hammer.
He said quietly:
“This was the last vial.”
Then he let it fall.
It shattered.
The sound of glass was sharp.
Final.
Sweat had begun to form on his brow—
cold, glistening droplets under the moonlight—
and he was clearly struggling
to remain standing.
Elise’s eyes widened in horror.
“You idiot! What does this mean?!”
Then she gasped.
“Have you lost your mind?!”
He looked at her.
A steady gaze.
Tired.
But resolute.
“This is my proof.”
His breathing grew heavier,
no longer even.
“I won’t be able to replace the dose.”
He took a step.
Then another.
His hand trembled slightly.
He tried to hide it—
and failed.
“If you lie to me…
if you plant even a single doubt…”
He stopped in front of her.
“I won’t seek treatment.”
He moved closer,
close enough for her to see the true pallor in his eyes—
not coldness…
but an emptiness gnawing at him from the inside.
“And I’ll let my body do what it will.”
She screamed,
her voice breaking:
“Stop! This is madness!”
He smiled.
A quiet smile.
Real.
Without performance.
“Now…”
“We’re equal.”
His breathing grew heavier.
“You threaten me with exposure.”
“And I threaten you with an unforgivable sin.”
She trembled.
This wasn’t an empty threat.
It wasn’t a game.
It was a gamble—
with his body.
He extended his hand toward her.
Shaking.
Yet unwavering in intent.
“Do you accept?”
She looked at his hand.
At his face.
And her head filled with questions:
What is he trying to reach?
Why choose the cruelest path?
And why—
why does it feel like refusing now
would truly kill him?
She thought.
For a long time.
Then—
she slowly reached out.
She took his hand.
Gently.
In that same instant…
he smiled.
Then he collapsed.
His body went out all at once,
dead weight falling into her.
Her eyes flew open as she staggered half a step back,
leaning,
his head hitting her shoulder,
her arms straining to hold him
so he wouldn’t fall on top of her.
“Damn you…”
she muttered through broken breaths,
“you oversized child…”
His body was cold.
Cold in a way that was terrifying.
His breaths were uneven—
short, hesitant,
as if deciding
whether they would continue at all.
She felt the cold seep into her arms,
into her shoulders.
She froze.
Then panic struck.
“No… no…”
She tightened her hold,
muscles trembling,
and despite his weight
she forced herself to move.
Her steps stumbled across the grass,
but she made herself run.
The moon behind her.
The night silent.
And Adrian in her arms—
like something she was never meant to hold…
Yet she held him anyway.
She ran.
Elise was gasping—
ragged, torn breaths—
as she shoved the back door of the eastern storage room beside the kitchen
with every last ounce of strength left in her arms.
The door slammed shut behind her with a muted thud,
and cold darkness lashed across her face.
Damn it… damn you, you boy.
Her mind was running faster than her legs:
If I leave him here—if he’s found…
They’ll catch me.
They’ll accuse me.
Because he might tell them that I'm the reason.
Attempted poisoning of the lord… a maid alone with him…
She clenched her teeth as she rushed down the stone steps,
her footing uneven,
her heart hammering in her chest like something trying to escape.
You’ve dragged me into a real disaster.
She reached the storage cabinet.
Sat him down quickly,
pressed his back against the cold wall.
But his body wouldn’t hold.
It slid.
Collapsed.
His head lolled to the side,
his breaths more broken now,
his chest rising and falling with terrifying difficulty.
She froze.
Now… what did he mean?
“The last dose”?
That can’t— it can’t be—
She spun around violently,
threw open the cabinet.
Fast.
Then—
her eyes widened.
All the vials…
shattered.
Glass everywhere.
Liquid residue smeared across the shelves.
Not a single one intact.
A scream tore out of her before she could stop it.
“You bastard!”
Her voice slammed into the storage room walls and came back twice as loud.
She whirled toward him,
lunged forward,
dropped to her knees in front of him
and shook him hard.
“Have you lost your mind?!”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”
She shook him again—
harder.
“All of them! You broke all of them?!”
He forced his eyes open,
his gaze unfocused,
but his lips moved.
A smile—
faint.
He whispered,
his voice barely there:
“So… the agreement… would be real.”
She stiffened.
Then her fury exploded.
“An agreement?!”
“What kind of agreement is this when you’re dying in my arms?!”
She grabbed his shirt,
yanked him toward her.
“Did you think this was heroic?!”
“Making me run through the palace like a criminal?!”
Her eyes gleamed—
not tears yet—
but something heavier.
“You dragged me into your abyss by force!”
His breathing stopped for a second.
Then returned—
weaker.
She flinched.
Her hand flew to his chest.
Cold.
Colder than it should be.
“No… no, no, no…”
Her voice dropped suddenly,
the anger cracking.
“Stop this…”
“This wasn’t part of the agreement…”
She pressed her forehead to his for a moment,
her teeth chattering.
“If you die now…”
she whispered, trembling,
“I’ll kill you with my own hands in the afterlife.”
No response.
Only fractured breaths.
She pulled herself together.
Forced the rage aside.
Think, Elise. Think.
She rose abruptly,
scanning the room,
her eyes searching for anything—
anything that could save him.
And she whispered,
caught between fury and terror:
“Damn you…”
“Damn you for making me care.”
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