“My fairy… my familiar… my Aurora.”
“Tell me—after all these years, whose maid have you been?”
Beatrice’s voice rang out like a command, thick with possessiveness so intense it was suffocating.
She cupped Aurora’s face, forcing her to look directly into her eyes.
In those ink-black pupils, the darkness deepened, like a night without stars—like standing in the middle of a railway track in the dead of night, where the only thing in view is a curved sliver of dark moonlight and rails that vanish into oblivion.
Their lips were barely a finger’s width apart—close enough to press a petal of a silver-gradient flower between them.
“I… I can’t tell you.”
Zzt.
The crimson chain wrapped around Aurora’s neck tightened again. The pain was searing, shooting down from her throat to every corner of her body.
She gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out, but tears still welled up at the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks, dripping onto the hand Beatrice used to pull the chain.
“Are you disobeying me, my dear Aurora?”
“If I told you… you’d go after them, wouldn’t you?”
“That’s why I can’t say anything.”
“Heh.”
Suddenly, her wrists were grabbed and forcefully pinned against the wall above her head.
The brutal movement made her wrists throb with pain. Aurora clenched her jaw, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.
The next instant, the chain around her neck was yanked tighter. The excruciating pain became unbearable, and at last, she couldn’t help but cry out.
As her pained voice rang out, Beatrice leaned close to her ear and whispered:
“Of course I would. Of course I’ll go after them. Even if you don’t tell me, I have plenty of ways.”
“When the time comes, I’ll make sure you watch as I torture them—until they wish they were dead.”
The agony continued for more than ten minutes. By the time it finally stopped, Aurora’s collar was already soaked with tears.
Sweat and tears born of unbearable pain mixed together, dripping from her chin onto the pristine white bedsheets.
Her eyes had gone hollow, her silver bangs damp with sweat clinging to her pale skin. A trail of clear saliva slipped from the corner of her lips.
Her body trembled from the lingering pain, and her mind was so ravaged she could no longer recognize the person in front of her.
“Ah… Aurora… my dear Aurora…”
Looking at her in this state, Beatrice’s face twisted in unmistakable excitement. A sick, twisted smile spread across her lips.
Her cheeks were flushed. She cupped her pale face in both hands, and for the first time, those deep, lifeless eyes sparkled with light.
“You’re the most adorable, the most beautiful just like this…”
Beatrice pulled Aurora, who had collapsed weakly onto the bed, into her arms.
Their bodies pressed tightly together, every curve of Beatrice’s elegant figure molding to Aurora’s trembling form, as if she wanted to absorb her into her own body.
She gently wiped away the tears on Aurora’s cheeks and brushed aside the sweat-drenched silver bangs from her forehead.
Her smooth, full forehead was revealed. Beatrice leaned in and planted a kiss on it, then brought her lips close to Aurora’s ear and whispered softly:
“Good girl, my sweet Aurora. This is only the beginning.”
“What you owe me… this isn’t nearly enough to repay it. I’ll take it all back—bit by bit—from your body, from your mind.”
*****
“Hey! Miss, wake up! Hey, wake up!”
Smack!
A sharp sting snapped her back—Lorabelle’s eyes flew open.
She instinctively reached for her sword, but the moment her arm moved, a jolt of pain coursed through her body.
She didn’t react outwardly—she was used to pain by now—but she quickly scanned her surroundings, trying to make sense of the situation.
“I suggest you don’t move too much.”
“To come out of that old witch’s spell looking this intact… you’re something else.”
The voice came from a little girl with blue hair. Her face was smudged with ash, and a small blue flower bloomed from the top of her head.
Lorabelle’s mind froze for a moment.
Where was she?
Why was she here?
Her memory felt fragmented. She remembered preparing to return to her room to rest—then a sudden wave of dizziness hit her.
After that… she was here.
All around her was devastation. Trees had been toppled or melted into sludge. The ground was cracked and broken into chunks of earth. The entire forest looked utterly lifeless.
“What… happened just now?”
She stared blankly at the ruin around her. She had no memory of a battle—but clearly something had occurred.
Her aching body told her that she had indeed fought someone, and judging by the wreckage, the opponent must have been extremely powerful.
The destruction seemed to be the result of some kind of magic. Her armor was deformed, and her sword was nowhere to be seen.
Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to her feet, shedding the twisted armor and checking her injuries.
Her bones throbbed with pain, but the surface wounds had already healed.
Only internal injuries remained—and even those would likely mend in a couple of hours.
She turned her gaze to the little girl—the only person she’d seen since waking up. Perhaps the girl knew something.
“Little girl, do you know what happened just now?”
“And why are you in such a dangerous place?”
The little girl was busy picking up the intact branches scattered across the ground.
When she heard Lorabelle call out, she turned around, hands on her hips, and said with a puzzled look, “Did you hit your head or something?”
“Oh, well, no wonder—you got beaten up so badly by that old witch.”
“Old witch? Who are you talking about?”
“How would I know who she is?” the girl huffed. “It’s a shame I couldn’t protect Miss Aurora. Such a kind fairy, too. Sigh…”
As she spoke, she let out a long sigh, visibly blaming herself for what had happened.
“Aurora? Are you saying she hurt Aurora?!”
Hearing the name she cared about made Lorabelle’s expression tense up. She hadn’t expected Aurora to be involved in this mess.
“You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
“She—she’s a witch, a really powerful one. She lured that kind-hearted fairy away. Judging by her strength, she’s probably a Grand Witch.”
“You’re no match for her. Just go home and take a nap.”
The girl’s tone was cutting. Every time she recalled how the witch treated her like a child, it made her furious.
Wasn’t she supposed to be a holy knight? Was the kingdom’s elite really this useless now?
“If I couldn’t beat her… then she must be truly powerful.”
“Would someone weak be able to destroy a whole forest like this?”
As she spoke, the little girl stuck a branch into the ground and began softly chanting. The tiny blue flower on her head glowed faintly.
In no time at all, the branch grew rapidly and transformed into a tall tree.
“You… you’re not an ordinary human.”
“Of course not! I’m the Queen of this forest!” the little girl said proudly, hands on her hips.
“But now that the whole forest’s in ruins… I really am a failure of a queen.”
Saying that, she stuck another branch into the ground and began using magic to help it grow.
No one cared if a wild forest was destroyed—because there was a wild forest spirit queen around to fix it.
“Queen…”
There were still too many things left unclear. Lorabelle’s mind was in complete disarray. She decided it would be best to return and sort through everything before making a proper plan to rescue Aurora.
With a single thought, her lost holy sword returned from a distant tree and flew straight into her hand.
The little girl looked at her with curiosity, thinking: Wait, doesn’t that mean she can use magic too?
But she didn’t say anything and simply continued bending over, sticking branch after branch into the soil.
Just as Lorabelle was about to leave, a voice suddenly echoed in her mind—dark, heavy, and full of resentment…
‘Give her… back to me…’