MHHC Chapter 19

Thirst

'Adelheid. If there is even a single suspicious thing about the Grand Duke, you must not look away. If the shadow truly dwells within him, you will be able to recognize it.'

Why did the conversation she'd had with Father Padre, the high priest suddenly surface in her mind now? Was it because of that firm intonation that stuck particularly in her memory? Was it eerie how his tone had been filled with conviction—that even if others couldn't recognize it, she herself must be able to?

"Ah."

It was the moment she lost her sense of reality and hesitated. Valentin, who had grabbed her wrist and pulled it up, tilted his head at an angle. His face was close. Their breaths were about to tangle. Startled, she spread out her caught fingers wide. As if waiting for that reaction, Valentin bit down on Adelheid's bleeding finger.

"……."

Hot, wet, tingling pain arose. It stung so much it made her nerves prickle. He pressed down on the wound on her finger with his tongue, tore at it, and ground his teeth crunch, crunch as he chewed. The blood that had formed was no more than a droplet. Nevertheless, as if desperately quenching his thirst, his Adam's apple moved steadily gulp, gulp.

Suck, slurp.

The wet sound of him sucking on the wound echoed starkly in the unusually quiet room. Adelheid watched with somewhat bewildered eyes as he concentrated on her finger. His sunken cheeks from losing weight, the shadows pooling in his eyes, his prominent nose bridge and jaw line as if carved with a knife.

And those pupils that narrowed like a beast's, staring at Adelheid intently...

'Just looking at how the meat and organs remained intact but all the blood completely disappeared proves it.'

It was a voice that suddenly surged up. At the same time, a phantom unfolded before her eyes. The sheep carcasses piled up like mountains after being slaughtered en masse, the acrid smoke. The people who testified in unison that it was not the work of beasts but the work of monsters.

Her thoughts leaped again like feet stepping on heated brass.

'...Father Padre. If you say not to look away.'

'On the night of the full moon, prepare a mirror and a blade made of silver.'

A blade. At that chilling answer, equally chilling goosebumps rose. What expression had Padre made when he saw her face then?

'You must come to your senses, Adelheid.'

'…….'

'No matter how kindly it treats you, a monster is an entity that cannot coexist with humans. Its thoughts are different from humans, so no matter how much it imitates humans, it cannot reach complete understanding. To it, we are nothing more than amusement.'

'…….'

'You must know this. You must keep it firmly in mind to be able to distinguish. When it deliberately tries to bewitch you...'

So then, how did that sermon continue?

The more wicked something is, the more beautiful its exterior; the more utterly vicious it is, the more it dons a shell of goodness. To deceive the good, it smears honey on its tongue; to seize tender flesh, its knuckles are like blade-talons; and every patch of ground it treads becomes wasteland where not a handful of life can grow.

In the end, what Padre wanted to say was one thing. If her husband truly was the 'shadow', he was merely wearing human skin but was not human. That being deceived by that appearance would only lead to despair.

And of all times...

"Ah."

At the sharp pain, Adelheid's eyelashes fluttered in surprise. Lost in thought after thought, she had forgotten what state she was in. It seemed Valentin's sharp canines had finally torn open the wound. The moment Adelheid groaned, Valentin immediately pulled his lips away.

"……!"

He looked as startled as if he'd been pricked by a thorn. As if he hadn't meant to go this far, as if he'd lost his mind for a moment and when he came to, he'd done this.

From the wound that had been ground down in the meantime, blood soon flowed down like a thin thread. Judging by the swollen, puffy skin, it didn't look like it would stop anytime soon.

Adelheid cupped her hand and quietly raised her gaze.

"Why did you do this?"

"S-sorry... I."

Sorry, he said. Valentin's face was pale as he couldn't even properly form his words. With only his ears reddened, his eyes wide open, barely breathing in and out.

What had been fairly imitating sentences like a proper person now came out broken into fragments again, perhaps from embarrassment.

"Did, hurt... much? Does it?"

His golden eyes trembled. He hung his head as he examined Adelheid's wound. Pitifully, like a beast afraid of being despised.

Adelheid unconsciously softened her hardened expression a little.

"Stop this teasing now. Really, it's startling..."

"……."

"I came to see you today because I was asked to. Everyone is terribly worried that Your Grace won't eat. If it doesn't suit your taste, I'll tell them to bring something else."

"……."

"Except for ordering my room changed, you haven't spoken a word to the servants, I hear."

Valentin's gaze remained nailed to Adelheid's hand all this time. He didn't seem to hear whatever she was babbling. He seemed solely absorbed in the wound and blood he had torn open. His face showed he needed to examine the wound he'd made once more to be satisfied.

His neat jaw clenched pitifully, then trembled shake, shake, unable to withstand its own strength. As if he couldn't believe he'd dared commit such a cruel act to her. Though her sensitive fingertips did hurt, seeing him blame himself this much made her heart soften without reason.

Just as she was thinking she would forgive him.

'Full moon, midnight, blade and mirror.'

Behind Valentin's desperate face, a chilling whisper arose. Borrowing Padre's voice, something formless trampled steadily on her tender ear.

Be wary. Just be wary and act...

Her head was noisy. The ominousness that had surged up every time she faced Valentin finally transformed into human language and rang out buzz, buzz, as if to shatter her skull to pieces.

Adelheid swayed and barely opened her lips while pressing her forehead.

"If you're wary of the servants who would care for you, in the end it's Your Grace who will be uncomfortable. Even if you don't trust their skills, they are retainers who have devoted their loyalty to Ansgar for a long time. They would never do anything harmful to Your Grace."

"What... ever... doesn't, matter, no... interest..."

"You should take an interest. If you converse with them, your memory will return quickly too. You'll also be able to convey your meaning more clearly in speech. And..."

Adelheid lowered her eyelashes as if avoiding Valentin's gaze.

"I now understand what Your Grace has been requesting of me. What happened was due to my ignorance."

"What, is..."

"I didn't know that in the north, there is a custom where husband and wife must share one bedroom."

"……."

"If Your Grace permits it, I will stay by your side as you said. Since that is the custom..."

Adelheid thought he would be delighted and accept. He'd been pestering her at every opportunity these past few days. Even though he was hurt by Adelheid's refusal each time, even though he feared her whenever she frowned as if she were an awl that would stab him, he had stubbornly insisted until the end...

But surprisingly, Valentin's handsome face was filled with worry and doubt.

"Why...?"

He looked as if he could hardly believe this good fortune. His face was excited like a beggar moved by a queen's rare bestowed grace, yet his eyes alone remained chillingly wary.

When Adelheid hesitated a bit, not having expected this reaction, he quickly grabbed her forearm. It was a very gentle force.

"It's, sud... den. Not, that I... don't want. Absolutely."

Only then did Adelheid feel like she properly looked into Valentin's inner self. His insides, filled completely with confusion without gaps, could now be fully read.

This can't be. You, to think you would welcome me this much... Valentin, who seemed to be anxiously thinking thought after thought, suddenly seemed to have thought of some possibility. His eyes sparkled as if regaining vitality.

"You, pity... me. Is that, right?"

You're treating me this well because you pity me?

The amazing thing was that his face looking down at Adelheidwas filled with joy, as if this were something utterly welcome. As if her pitying him and finding him pathetic would be some great shackle.

Adelheid weakly pushed away Valentin's broad, solid chest that pressed close. Even with that tiny bit of strength, he obediently moved back from Adelheid.

"Pitiful..."

Adelheid muttered in bewilderment. The Grand Duke of Ansgar and pity. Just putting the words together was devastating.

"Who would dare pity Your Grace? You rule half of Bitzleben, the sole master of Ansgar."

"……."

"Never say such things again. Your Grace is the actual ruler of the vast north, the only Grand Duke of Denburg, His Majesty the Emperor's only nephew, and possesses the noblest bloodline of all..."

"Then."

He grabbed Adelheid's arm again with claw-like hands. Since his hands were so large, even just laying them there crumpled the fabric of her entire forearm.

Adelheid recalled her old clothes whose seams had burst, unable to withstand his grip. So as soon as he grabbed her, she worried about that first.

"First, Your Grace... If you would release this."

His face, tinged reddish from the torchlight, was desperate. Eyes that seemed to have died black in an instant stared at Adelheid. He asked.

"Even though I'm... not piti... ful and not... pa... thetic."

"……."

"Why do you... care... for me? You."

Even though I'm not pitiful, not pathetic, why do you care for me?