STVWDTD Chapter 6

Would You Just Hold Me?

'Was this seriously the power level of a villain who was supposed to die before the story even began?'

The castle that had seemed impregnable crumbled under the raw physicality of one man.

"Sis! Siiiis!"

While everyone stood frozen, unable to process what they'd witnessed, Noel moved.

The golden-haired boy, who'd been sitting politely on a knight's lap, bolted the moment he saw her.

"Noel!"

Diana rushed toward him, but Rodrick caught her wrist.

She looked up at him in confusion just as Noel's small head smacked into an invisible barrier.

Thud.

The boy tumbled backward.

"Nooooo. Sis."

The collapsed wall was already regenerating. Noel climbed to his feet and began pummeling the transparent barrier with tiny fists.

"Sis! Sis!"

The knights, distracted by the child's distress, suddenly remembered their commander. Their blue eyes went glacial—cold enough to cut.

They swallowed hard.

"Find the point connected to the castle," Rodrick commanded curtly.

"Sir!"

His order given, the wall finished its reconstruction, once again dividing them.

"We'll have to find another way out," Diana murmured, devastated as hope crumbled.

'Such powerful magic.'

She gripped the wrist Rodrick still held, nodding. "Guess hide-and-seek really is happening after all?"

"Yes. You. Alone."

What?

His next words landed like a physical blow. "From here on, we split up. You handle your part. I'll search for another exit separately."

She was recharged, powered by proximity to Rodrick, but she never knew when her magic would drain without warning. And when it did...

'The pain. Nobody who hasn't experienced it understands.'

Rodrick's logic was sound. Splitting up would be more efficient than staying together.

Intellectually, she understood. But the thought of separation made her hesitate. The pain that's coming. She was afraid.

"You were worried about me getting hurt, so you carried me. And now?"

"The fog's gone. You won't fall down stairs."

His swing had apparently cleared away the fog entirely. With visibility restored, the real threats were just teleportation circles and emerging monsters.

"What if I get lost? What if we don't meet up again?"

"I'll come find you."

She looked up, unconvinced. Before she could respond, Rodrick pulled something from his coat.

"Keep this. It has a tracking spell attached."

A pendant—deep blue like his eyes, a magical stone set into silver.

Diana accepted it carefully, wetting her dry lips. Should she say something? Should she not?

"Then—"

She only managed that much before Rodrick turned to leave. Desperate, she grabbed him.

"Rodrick!"

He glanced back as if asking if there was more.

She hesitated, then spoke. "Before we split up... would you just hold me for a bit?"

One of his eyebrows lifted at an angle that suggested profound displeasure.

"And before you think I'm being weird or clingy—I know plenty of women probably throw themselves at a man who looks like you, but that's not what this is about, okay?"

Her voice got quieter under the weight of that cold stare. Like he was about to murder someone.

"Feels weird though."

"What?"

"Would just holding me be enough?"

Seriously? Diana's pink eyes went wide. That easily? Before he could change his mind, she answered quickly: "Yes! Even just holding me is fine. Or if it bothers you, we could just hold hands."

She extended her hand. Rodrick took it and pulled her forward.

He's actually doing it. Diana was genuinely moved. I thought he was all ice.

This man had a gentler side. There was hope here.

If we keep this up, maybe I can just... propose? A contract marriage under the guise of gratitude?

"Lady."

She breathed in deeply, absorbing the weight of his presence. The acrid masculine scent grounded her panicked heart.

This is enough. This is enough.

"Anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

She was thinking, searching for what she'd forgotten, when she suddenly realized.

"Oh. Thank you. Rodrick."

"You have nothing else to say."

Not a question.

He cupped her cheek in one gloved hand, studying her with those inscrutable blue eyes. It looked like he was about to kiss her—completely unromantic. Clinical. Like an interrogation.

"Mng...?"

Her cheeks squished under his grip. Her words came out garbled.

"You're ugly."

"Huh?"

Me? Diana prided herself on her appearance. She was the younger sister of the empire's most beautiful women—the villainess and the heroine. Diana's beauty was considered exceptional, trailing only just behind them both. She had confidence in her looks.

"That's rude. I'm hardly lacking by anyone's standards."

"You have quite the confidence."

"It's the truth."

Rodrick turned and walked away without engaging further, his long strides eating up distance.

As she receded behind him, Rodrick looked down at his own hand. The warmth beneath his black gloves—beneath the leather itself—was unfamiliar.

Her touch didn't repel him. Strange.

His nerves were always hyperactive, his senses always sharp. But with Diana nearby, those jagged edges had softened. For the first time in a long while, he'd felt something close to peace.

There's something here. His instincts screamed it. Something off.

Just looking at how she kept trying to stick herself to him told him enough.

If she wouldn't reveal it herself, he'd simply uncover it. Whether that knowledge would serve him or harm him remained to be seen.

'My madness has calmed. That's new.'

His younger brother had run away claiming he'd found a cure for the curse, but there were only two ways it could end.

Either his brother's child inherited the curse—taking it from Rodrick—or Rodrick would eventually break under the weight and destroy himself.

Both paths led to death. Rodrick accepted this with equanimity.

No heir meant the curse might scatter sideways, harming his brother instead. So Rodrick endured the agony until his brother inherited the dukedom and fathered children.

His soft younger brother couldn't handle what he could.

Beyond that, Rodrick didn't care what happened to himself.

[Papa!]

A child materialized suddenly, blocking his path.

"What."

[Where's mama? Papa's moving alone?]

"I'm not indulging your pathetic make-believe."

He walked straight through the child's transparent form, searching for exits.

[But I said I'd let you out!]

"I don't trust the words of lesser creatures."

[Really? Then I guess I should only open the exit for mama? Hmm. Papa tried to break down the castle, so... Papa gets punished! You'll stay with us forever till you die!]

The child clapped its hands together.

The corridor beneath his feet turned to mud. His legs sank deeper with each step—like quicksand consuming him gradually.

His expression didn't flicker. As if he hadn't experienced things like this endlessly before.

The child was the one who looked shocked.

[Why... why aren't you scared?]

"What's this connected to?"

[No way I'm telling you! Hmm, was that too weak? How about this?]

The child snapped its fingers.

Reality inverted.

Rodrick found himself standing in a different space—one achingly, horrifyingly familiar.

His lip twisted savagely.

'Please... big brother.'

Blood pooled across the floor. The woman shrieked in agony. His brother was dying in her arms.

'Don't come. Big brother. I'm okay.'

The curse didn't just affect bloodline. It had driven the duke's companion—his brother's mother figure—completely insane over the years.

A curse that made mothers unable to recognize their own children. Monstrous.

'AHHHHH! That's not my child! It's a monster!'

His vision swam with the chaotic unfolding tableau.

'Please! Someone kill that monster!'

Broken glass fragments reflected light like shattered mirrors. His vision blurred.

'Get that thing away from me!'

How had he responded to this, back then? How had he—

Even knowing it was illusion, nausea clawed up his throat, choking him.

The child watched his distress with malicious glee, laughing as his composure finally cracked.

Should I just trap him down here at the bottom of the castle forever?

The small thing, arms crossed in smug satisfaction, was suddenly not smug anymore.

Something had touched its core.

The child gasped. Its expression twisted into something demonic before it vanished.

"I think I've found them all," Diana murmured.

She cradled a collection of objects—a worn doll, a wooden practice sword, assorted trinkets. Hand-marked toys. Children's toys. Objects infused with residual wishes.

She'd thought there was just one child playing hide-and-seek. But there were several hidden away.

Finding them wasn't difficult. Reading the lingering wishes like she read magical power, she could sense their spirits. When she picked up an object, the children naturally followed.

Her eyes—the ones that read magic—proved useful here.

After splitting from Rodrick, Diana moved quickly with her recovered body. The lightness she'd missed rushed back. She practically flew through the corridors.

One of the children following her tugged at her sleeve, pointing a small finger down a particular hallway. It's time to end this long, exhausting game.

"Is it here?"

The child nodded. This was the object belonging to the one who'd proposed the hide-and-seek game.

As Diana reached for the child's spiritual anchor—

[Don't touch it!]

The child exploded from the air.

"I found you."

She reached out further, and the room flooded with flame. Charred furniture ignited again, releasing thick black smoke that choked the air.

"So the fog was actually smoke."

It looked real. The heat felt genuinely threatening against her skin. But it was all illusion.

Everything's false.

She pressed forward anyway, tears stinging her eyes from the acrid smoke, her steps never faltering.

Her recovered body was in decent condition. Even against the scorching heat, her movement remained steady.

[Where are you going?]

"To your guardians."

Her voice was resolute. Furious.

She clutched her collection of objects close and led the children out of the western corridor, past the suffocating smoke. Each object cradled an innocent trapped in this place.

Diana pushed through, her eyes watering from the thick fumes, unwavering despite the horror pressing close.

The scorching heat that seemed like it would melt flesh licked at her skin, but Diana moved forward without hesitation.

[Where... where are you taking us?]

"To your guardians."