Chapter 19: Windsor’s Confession

My body… so cold…

All the strength in me was slowly draining away.

My feet felt as heavy as if shackled by chains meant for prisoners.

Every step I took seemed to declare my own ugliness and disgrace.

If Clan Leader were to see me like this, he would definitely be disappointed…

Disappointed in my incompetence, disappointed in my arrogance, disappointed that I didn’t listen to him, disappointed in this wretched, pitiful form I have worn from beginning to end…

But even so, I will still do this… because I know he cares about me, and he will forgive everything I have done.

All of this is so he won’t leave my side, so he can forgive the despicable version of me from the past, and… so he can see the true, selfish, and vile self I remain to this day.

Even like this, he will still care about me, right?

Step by step, my right arm still bled, sharp pain flooding my mind with each fresh gush.

But ever since childhood, when illness tormented me, I had long since become accustomed to pain—if anything, I had grown numb to it.

Yet the blood seemed to be flowing more and more, brighter and brighter red.

My consciousness began to blur, and my legs no longer responded.

“Thud.”

Before my eyes, scarlet flowers appeared to bloom—beautiful and deadly.

Am I going to die…?

Though the thought crossed my mind, I felt no fear, for there was a time when death was all I yearned for.

But… if I die like this, Clan Leader will be angry, won’t he?

That face suddenly appeared again in front of me—the one that made me…

“Clan Leader… please… forgive me.”

That face, I once hated it, but when was that even?

***

The cold wind howled outside the door.

What time was it now?

What season?

What kind of weather?

But even knowing these things, what use were they to me…

I could only lie here in my small room, grumbling about the world’s injustice toward me.

I hate the God who made me broken and weak.

From birth, I was as fragile as crumpled paper.

The Pharmacist often said I wouldn’t live past one year, yet year after year passed.

It felt as if some cruel God kept extending my life for perverse amusement—neither living fully nor dying completely.

My mother died because of me, and my father, the Clan Leader, had to care for this half-dead body.

Under mounting pressure, his health deteriorated day by day.

I lay in bed, too weak even to turn my head and look out the window, so I closed my eyes and listened to the raging wind outside.

I liked this kind of wind, because in these moments I finally couldn’t hear the laughter and joy outside.

I had seen those children my age a few times—they seemed to have been invited by my father.

They told me many stories…

They seemed to think I would appreciate them?

My father seemed to believe it would cheer me up.

But… apart from wanting to break their ankles, blind their eyes, and make them as miserable as I am, I wanted to do nothing else.

Father said such thoughts were jealousy, something punished by the God.

But with me, after all this, the greatest punishment would be death, right?

Taking away my right to live, and yet also stripping me of the freedom to die.

If death would come for me, then I would gladly be jealous of even more people.

“Bang.”

Lost in my dark thoughts, the door to the wooden house suddenly opened—father had returned.

“Sweetheart, sorry I’m a bit late.”

His pale hair was tousled by the wind, his face full of wrinkles making him look like a man over fifty, though he was only in his thirties.

He seemed to be carrying something black and soft in his arms.

Was it another doll he had bought for me?

But I had told him countless times—I didn’t like those things.

I didn’t even have the strength to hold them.

What use were they?

Yet it seemed it wasn’t what I thought…

“Sweetheart, look what I brought back for you!”

He squatted down and put down the thing he was carrying—it was a black cat, and it had three tails.

I had heard other children say that some legendary cat demons have multiple tails, but I had never seen one before.

I never expected such a cat demon to truly exist.

I weakly opened my eyes and looked at the black cat—it was indeed different from ordinary cats.

Though it hadn’t transformed into human form yet, from its appearance alone I could tell it would be beautiful once it did…

“I found this little guy near the border. He’s a wild cat demon, maybe someone sold him and he escaped.”

“From now on, he’s your little sister. That way, when I’m too busy to be with you, you’ll have someone to keep you company.”

I remained silent, too weak to say anything.

Father was already busy with clan matters, and he had to take care of me—a burden—and now he’d brought this too.

I didn’t expect this to change my life; I only hoped it would behave.

Three days later.

When I opened my eyes, I saw a strange face.

A delicate-looking girl, her eyes a bright green.

The first thing I thought of was the emerald my father once brought me.

Her jet-black hair was soft and silky, unlike mine, dry and brittle from long illness.

She was cuter than any peer I had ever seen.

At this moment, her face was mere inches from mine.

Her emerald pupils blinked not once, curiously studying me.

“Move… away.”

I weakly said, pushing her away with what little strength I had.

Though I knew her human form would be beautiful, seeing this face stirred jealousy and discomfort within me…

I wanted to tear this face off, but I had no strength to do so.

“What’s your name?”

She suddenly spoke in a soft voice.

I didn’t want to answer and closed my eyes again, intending to keep sleeping.

But she seemed persistent.

“Why are you always lying here?”

Her words made me deeply uncomfortable.

I opened my eyes and glared at her fiercely.

Sensing my anger, she quickly obediently closed her mouth.

“It’s time for your medicine, sweetheart.”

Father’s voice suddenly came from the side.

He carried a bitter herbal soup and came to my side.

“I… don’t want to drink it.”

“That won’t do. It’s for your body. You’ll get better once you drink it.”

He helped me sit up and fed me spoonful by spoonful.

The bitterness was as unbearable as always—worse than pain itself.

“Your little sister has finally transformed. Isn’t she cute? From now on, she can keep you company instead of me.”

Keep me company instead of Father?

But Father, I don’t like her face.

I’m jealous of everything about her. I only hope she’s careful not to be killed by my jealousy.