The circumstances that led to Chloe’s current existence as a “cursed child” and the cruelty she suffered because of it can be traced back to a chain of ill-fated turns.
Sixteen years ago, in the frontier town of Shadaf in the Kingdom of Rose, Chloe was born the second daughter to Margrave Clement and Margravine Isabella. Upon her birth, Chloe presented with a prominent birthmark on her back, which led Isabella and her midwife to believe one thing.
This child must have been cursed.
Now, it wasn’t exactly rare for a baby to be born with a birthmark, but Chloe’s was unusually deep and dark in coloration. Shadaf was far removed from the royal capital, and its people were given to superstition. As a result, what started as a half-subjective, almost personal prejudice against Chloe ended up attributed to her as a “curse.” It was only reinforced by the plague and famine that had settled over the town at the time.
“This hideous child sickens me.”
So proclaimed Isabella as she washed her hands of the child, relinquishing her care to one of her handmaidens. By a stroke of luck, the handmaiden charged with raising her was a native of the royal capital. She did not indulge in the townspeople’s superstitions, and paid no mind to the birthmark on her back. The good fortune, however, would not last long.
Half a year after Chloe was born, her father passed away from a bout of plague. To say it aggrieved Isabella would be an understatement. Luckily, their eldest son was already of age, so succession rights were not in dispute, but misfortune would soon come knocking once again.
The next year, and the year after that, plague continued to ravage the land, claiming the lives of many in Shadaf. The Ardennes were spared no grief; Isabella lost her younger sister and her second son to the disease. Isabella herself also fell ill and found herself on death’s door, but somehow managed to cling to her life.
Isabella’s mind began to drift.
This misfortune—all of it. It all must be because of Chloe’s curse.
Faced with overwhelming adversity, the human mind tends to deflect blame and rationalize it in terms it can understand. While logically, the origin of the plague could be traced back to rats from the royal capital, and the deaths in the family could be explained away as nothing more than a series of cruel coincidences, Isabella would not see it that way. It must’ve been Chloe’s fault. No doubt about it, the repulsive child.
Temperamental, dogmatic, and mentally fragile, Isabella could not recover from the loss of her husband and son, and instead chose to use Chloe as an outlet for her anger. The “cursed child” rhetoric gradually spread from Isabella to the townspeople, and eventually they too came to believe in it. Shortly after, Chloe would be confined to the estate and forbidden from leaving, on account of it being unbecoming for someone of a cursed nature to wander around freely outside.
Thus began the abuse.
“If it weren’t for you, my husband would still be alive!” Isabella would rage. Following her example, Chloe’s sister Lily and the household servants would join in on her unholy crusade.
To those of us blessed with perspective, this might seem like yet another tragic case of the residents of an isolated backwater succumbing to mass hysteria, but try explaining that to the young Chloe, who had to live through it all. Called a cursed child by her mother, her sister, and her servants, Chloe, too, began to believe she was cursed.
If there were any silver linings to be found in this whole situation, it might be the fact that Chloe was a naturally resilient and optimistic child, along with the fact that she had an unwavering ally in the handmaiden that had raised her.
“Don’t listen to them,” she would say to Chloe. She would prove to be an unconditional source of encouragement and comfort for the young girl.
In fact, if it weren’t for her, Chloe might not have survived.
Once, Isabella contemplated disposing of Chloe. After all, why let a cursed child continue to live? It would’ve been more than trivial to dispose of a babbling infant and pass it off as the plague’s doing, but thanks to the handmaiden’s intervention, Chloe was spared.
If you kill a child that is cursed, it will only bring forth further disaster…
She has potential, it would be worth your while to keep her alive…
Unfazed by talk of curses and superstitions, the handmaiden brought forth argument after argument against Isabella’s plans of infanticide. In the end, her efforts proved fruitful, and Chloe was spared. In exchange, Chloe would be worked to the bone and subjected to conditions even their servants would find unconscionable, but at least she would live.
Alas, when Chloe reached the age of ten, a death in the family forced her guardian angel to return home, and Chloe lost her sole pillar of support.
And now we arrive at the last misfortune. Normally, birthmarks disappear between the ages of five to six. Chloe’s, however, still remained at age ten, though it had grown slightly lighter. That was the final straw that led to Chloe’s current fate. Abused by her family, worked like a dog all around the estate, Chloe Ardennes was now sixteen years old.
And she was still treated worse than the dirty, worn-out rags she used to clean with.
◇◇◇
“There. Only half to go.”
In a detached building on the estate grounds, Chloe dutifully stitched away at Lily’s requested embroidery. The time was three hours past midnight. After doing laundry for the entire household and preparing for the next day’s chores, it had gotten quite late. As it was almost her time to begin preparing breakfast for the next morning—well, this morning—she was hoping to finish up soon.
Though usually unthinkable for the daughter of a margrave, Chloe performed almost all the Ardennes household’s chores at Isabella’s behest. Everything from simple tasks like cleaning and laundry, to cooking and gardening—even administrative affairs like the estate’s financial matters—were her obligation.
“I let you have your life, so you’ll work until you drop dead!” Isabella had proclaimed from the very start of Chloe’s career.
For better or worse, Chloe was born with fast hands, a sharp mind, and the stamina to match. Coupled with her nigh-compulsive, guilt-driven cursed child complex, she alone could manage the work of five servants. This of course meant that, unbeknownst to their master Isabella, the other servants saw fit to neglect their duties and live the good life. All the while, Chloe devoted herself to chores, bowed her head in greeting to her own family, and worked tirelessly through her nights on administration.
As a result, the current estate was so precariously reliant on Chloe for the running of its daily affairs that even Isabella, previously so disgusted by her that she wouldn’t even lay eyes on her, would admit that she was indeed capable, though not enough to warrant praise.
Well, that’s simply expected of her, she would think.
But, everyone has their limit, even for someone of Chloe’s stamina. Worked without rest, abused by her mother, harassed by her sister—Chloe was worn out. Assaulted by exhaustion, sleepiness, her aching body, and above all else—
“It’s so cold.”
—the freezing cold that numbed her hands and fingers, she was progressing at a snail’s pace.
Chloe had called this storage-room-cum-living quarters home for as long as she could remember. Equipped with nothing more than a crude bed, a table and chair with broken legs, and walls and windows so drafty they couldn’t keep an elephant out, it wouldn’t be amiss to say she was living in a shack. Needless to say, no efforts were made to insulate the building after Chloe moved in, so every winter, she would suffer through the brunt of the bone-chilling cold. And while she did eventually get a furnace, she used it only sparingly, as she was provided with such a bare minimum amount of firewood, you’d think they only cared about her not freezing to death.
She only bothered to break it out when conditions grew so dire that she’d begin to dip in and out of consciousness.
Draped in a thin blanket that was only slightly better than nothing, Chloe let out a big yawn. Was she tired, or about to pass out? She couldn’t tell. If it were the latter, she could finally start up the fireplace, but then again, that meant things were bad.
She pricked herself on the thumb with the sewing needle.
She needed to focus. If she couldn’t finish Lily’s floral embroidery exactly as requested, she would have to face her wrath again. She mustered what little remained of her willpower and continued to stitch away.
“Done…” Finally, she finished—just as the sun was about to crest the horizon.
She looked over her handiwork a few times. A pretty good job, if I do say so myself.
Chloe finally had a moment to breathe. Her hands were pricked all over from the needle she’d used to keep herself awake, but if it spared her from her sister, it’d be but a small price to pay.
“How much longer do I have to keep this up…?” she muttered.
Thoughts like these would intrude on her mind every now and then.
Is this really all there is? she thought. In her heart of hearts, Chloe yearned for something more. If her mundane days were at least peaceful and tranquil, then that would be something, but the cruelty she suffered at the hands of her family and servants was anything but.
If Chloe hadn’t known of anything else, then perhaps she wouldn’t have these thoughts, but alas, she knew. Chloe’s guardian, Shirley, had taught her much.
Now listen, young lady. The world is much, much larger than you think. In the royal capital, there are so many buildings, they cover up all the mountains and rivers, and compared to this town, there are so many people you couldn’t even imagine! Best of all, it’s filled with all the most delicious and beautiful things you can think of. For example…
It didn’t take long for Chloe, who grew up knowing nothing more than the town she was raised in, to be captivated by Shirley’s tales about the royal capital.
“I’d love to…go there one day…”
Even though it was something that might never happen, she couldn’t help but wish.
In truth, if Chloe had so desired, escaping was well within her means. While she was prohibited from leaving the estate, it had no guards to keep her there. In fact, she even knew the general route to the royal capital thanks to Shirley.
The only thing that stopped her was the distance. Even someone like Chloe—who had developed immense stamina from trekking around her vast estate since childhood—would find it unreachable on foot.
As such, Chloe had long believed in the fatalistic notion that she’d never be able to reach the capital by herself. On top of that, the sense of guilt she grew up conditioned to feel chained her down like a shackle.
A brand new world…the big city…
Her aspirations for the royal capital would fade away as just that.
Lost in her thoughts, Chloe drifted off to sleep.
“Oh, no!” Chloe shot up. “What time is it?!”
From the position of the sun, it was all too likely she’d overslept. If breakfast is late I’m going to get scolded again!
Cutting her own morning routine short, Chloe rushed towards the main estate. A few minutes later, she arrived and began to head towards the kitchen, only to find Isabella standing before her.
“M-Mother?!” The sight alone made Chloe tremble with fear. “W-What is it?”
“I said to not leave a single drop of your filthy blood on my floors, did I not?” Isabella’s tone was calm and clear as ice. Something was clearly wrong.
Chloe understood the meaning behind Isabella’s words immediately and dropped to the floor on her hands and knees. “I-I’m so terribly sorry, mother. I thought I’d wiped everything spotless. I checked over and over and over again, but I—”
Thwack.
Isabella struck Chloe on the side of her head with full force. Knocked down to the floor, Chloe wrestled her upper body up and stared fearfully at her.
“Why? Why are you like this?” Isabella looked down at Chloe, murderous intent in her eyes.
It was then that she noticed the knife in Isabella’s right hand. Its silver blade glinted menacingly.
Chloe’s reaction was delayed. She could not process what was happening. Her own mother brandishing a blade at her? This must be a dream, she thought. But the pain ringing in her head reminded her that it was all too real. Her mind went blank from shock. “M-Mother, wh-what are you—”
“Why, why, why, WHY?! Why did you have to live? Why not my husband? Or my son?! Why did they have to die?!” Isabella drowned out Chloe’s feeble squeaks.
Chloe was at a loss for words, paralyzed in front of her screaming hysterical mother—she had never seen her like this before.
Isabella’s violent outbursts toward Chloe could be distilled down to one simple impetus: since losing her husband and her son, her anxieties and mental distresses built up over the course of days, weeks, and years. As much as Isabella would take it out on Chloe, she was little more than a punching bag—capable of absorbing the abuse but able to do nothing more than apologize. Isabella’s acts towards Chloe had gradually escalated to their logical conclusion.
While in her own mind Isabella may not have fully meant to take her daughter’s life, to Chloe, cornered and at her wits end, there was no other interpretation.
Isabella stared down at Chloe with crazed, bloodshot eyes. “You are a cursed child! You bring nothing but disaster and misfortune! You can’t be allowed to live!”
Isabella raised the knife.
I-I don’t want to die! A single thought ran through Chloe’s mind. Her survival instincts took over. Her body reacted and threw itself to the side.
Thunk.
The knife made a wholly unimpressive sound as it struck the floor, but to Chloe, it might as well have been the sound of the reaper’s scythe coming for her soul.
Having thrown herself to the floor, Chloe looked up to see Isabella on all fours, her knife thrust into the floor where Chloe was just a moment ago.
Isabella panted raggedly, like a rabid animal.
A brief moment of silence fell before Isabella slowly craned her neck around to look at Chloe. Her eyes brimmed with rage, fixed on her target.
Run… RUN!
Her inner voice screaming, her heart pounding in her chest, the sweat breaking out across every inch of her body—every fiber of her being was telling her to flee. Tripping over herself, Chloe scrambled to her feet and broke off into a run, leaving her mother behind.
“Come back here right this instant!”
Chloe ignored her mother’s bellows behind her.
“This…stupid…”
While Isabella attempted to free the knife that she had planted unexpectedly deep into the floor, Chloe made her escape.
◇◇◇
Chloe panted heavily. She’d made it back to her room. As early in the morning as it was, she managed not to run into anyone else.
Chloe swiftly barricaded the door, planting her desk and chair in front of it. Despite only sprinting a distance that normally wouldn’t even wind her, Chloe’s entire body was covered in sweat.
“I’m… I’m alive, right?” Chloe looked down at her own hands uneasily. Pale, sickly, and quivering ever so slightly, those were indeed her hands, and they were indeed still moving.
Chloe breathed a sigh of relief in her mind.
But if I were just a second too late…that knife…that knife would’ve…
“I can’t,” Chloe uttered with quiet conviction. She felt everything she’d kept repressed inside of her well up in an instant. Her memories assaulted every corner of her mind—all the pain she went through, the suffering, the anguish, the despair…
The despair the despair the despair the despair the despair.
She’d endured so much.
She’d endured too much.
“I… I can’t be here anymore!!!”
Chloe made up her mind. She was going to run away from this place.
She bolted into action. Change of clothes, water, non-perishables, warm furs, flints, a bare minimum of personal effects: she jammed everything she needed and everything she could need—along with a memento from Shirley—into a large, shoulder-slung sack.
Her hands moved quickly. She was afraid that Isabella would free the knife and come after her again. If there was ever even the slightest possibility that Isabella could still reach her, she would not feel safe.
She found herself wishing for someone in the house to come to her rescue and stop the enraged woman with a knife in her hand, but to no avail.
BAM!
A dull sound emanated from the door. Chloe’s heart jumped out of her chest.
BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!
Chloe shrieked in fear.
“OPEN THE DOOR. OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT THIS INSTANT OPEN THE DOOOOR!” Isabelle roared, loud enough to rupture eardrums.
The pounding at the door went on, Chloe’s makeshift barricade sliding and shifting with every hit. Her composure on a razor’s edge, she continued to pack away with single-minded focus. As one final step, Chloe took the embroidered dress off the chair back and crammed it into her pack—a small act of defiance against the sister she suffered at the hands of for so long.
Chloe stood up. At that moment, the pounding on the door stopped.
A terrifying silence descended upon her.
Did…did she give up? Just as a small glimmer of hope crossed Chloe’s mind, a different noise shook the room.
Chloe turned her head towards the source of the commotion—to see Isabella glaring at her through the door-side window, a fist-sized rock in her grip.
The instant Chloe met Isabella’s eyes, she broke off into a run. She dashed to the back of the room, towards the window on the opposite side. She opened it and threw herself through, just as the sound of a shattering window reverberated behind her.
◇◇◇
Chloe ran as fast as her legs would carry her.
Flying out the window of the detached room she had called home for sixteen years, she tumbled a few steps before picking herself up and accelerating, leaving Isabella’s piercing screams far behind her.
She ran on, not offering a single look behind her.
Despite barely sleeping the night before, the exhausted and sleep-deprived Chloe found herself overflowing with energy. Crossing the wide-open plains that made up the Ardennes’ estate, she reached the walls that had separated her from the outside world for sixteen years. She scrambled over them, emerging on the other side—and kept running.
Basking in the morning sun’s gentle glow, Chloe continued down the path that led away from the estate, not a stray thought in her mind. The fog of fear that had clouded over her had dispersed and given way to a feeling of uncontested liberation.
“I… I did it… I… I did it!” Chloe gasped in between ragged breaths.
She had fled that home of hers of her own volition. She had finally shaken off the chains that had bound her for so long. As the reality of the situation set in, Chloe felt unparalleled joy.
Every bit of scenery that flew past her was new and refreshing. The outside world that she had been hesitant about for so long was now exciting and positively sparkling with possibility. At that moment, she even found peace with the sweat lingering on her skin.
She hadn’t a single obligation, and every single opportunity was laid out before her. This was a first for Chloe.
As for what she wanted to do first… Well, it’s safe to say she had an idea or two.
After running for a while and checking that no one was coming after her, Chloe stopped and opened up her pack. She rummaged around until she found it: a hand-drawn map—the memento Shirley had left her. After getting her bearings and figuring out the path forward, she set off once again.
Her destination could be but one place.
The capital city of the Kingdom of Rose: Liberta.
◇◇◇
How much time had passed since that fateful day?
It must have been ten days…no, a fortnight since Chloe made her departure from the Ardennes’ domain. A lot had happened to her since then, but those stories can wait for another time.
“I-I can’t…any further…” Pelted by droplets of freezing rain, Chloe slumped against the side of a building.
An alien scene unfolded before her: rows of brick-and-mortar construction flanked both sides of a wide, bustling street, as throngs of people and horse-drawn carriages flew by. One thing was for sure: she was definitely no longer in the verdant realm of the Ardennes.
Chloe had finally made it to Liberta. Even with the rain, the moment she laid eyes on the royal capital, she was elated beyond words. With her last bit of energy, she’d willed herself into the city limits—but after traversing mountains and wilderness for days and days with limited food and warm clothing, her emaciated and exhausted legs would carry her no further.
After having briefly wandered the city streets, Chloe calmed down, and a single thought floated through her head. I…huh? What…what do I do now?
Having finally reached the promised land that she had dreamed about for so long, the one thread of resolve that had been holding her together had suddenly snapped. Her consciousness wavering, Chloe plopped herself down on a street corner.
The rain was the killer. Despite moving quite a ways south to reach Liberta, the rain was still rain—its merciless, frigid drops sapped her of her body heat.
Her body was hot to the touch, but she felt chills. Her heart had begun to palpitate. The unrelenting stress had taken a toll on her body.
I might…be in real trouble…
The last time she felt such an overwhelming sense of crisis was when her sister abandoned her on a mountain within the Ardennes’ domain back when they were children. On that occasion she managed to follow the animal trails back to safe harbor, but this time…this time was different.
She was alone in the big city, with no money and no one to call on. Shirley was here, supposedly, somewhere—but Chloe had no way of finding out where. After making it all the way here without so much as a plan to speak of, she realized she was in a dire situation.
A steady flow of pedestrians made their way past her, but no one offered more than a curious glance in her direction. Was it that empathy and common decency were concepts lost to the urban-dwelling folk of the capital? Or was it perhaps that most were simply prudent enough to avoid getting involved with the odd-looking, ragged girl squatting on a street corner?
Just as she started to think that perhaps this was the end, three shadowy figures crept up next to her.
“You lost, missy?” A phlegmy voice called out to her.
Chloe raised her head to see three shady men standing over her with broad, off-putting grins on their faces. The man in front had a clean-shaven head and was quite large in stature. Behind him stood a skeevy-looking man with long blonde hair and another stout man with a bowl-shaped haircut.
A certain conversation from her childhood began replaying in her mind:
“Now listen, young lady. The capital might sound like a fun place, but you must also be aware of the dangers.”
“Dan…gers?”
“Depraved individuals who would want to take advantage of an adorable little girl like you, for example.”
“De…praved?”
“Well, I suppose it might be a little early for us to be having this conversation.”
It seemed that Chloe would come to understand the meaning of Shirley’s words—though she’d have preferred not to find out this way.
“You a runaway? Lucky us, eh boys?”
“Oh, we’re gonna have some fun tonight.”
Clad in tattered clothes and blown-out boots, the three men eyed Chloe up and down. Judging by their previous remarks, these men must’ve approached her for what Shirley had called “depraved” purposes.
“Alright. Get up.” The bald man, presumably the leader of the group, grabbed Chloe’s arm and yanked.
She whimpered. The frail and lightweight Chloe was brought up to her feet almost instantly.
“Well look at that. She got a pretty face on her, don’t she fellas?” he said, to the jeers of the other two.
The three leaned in to get a closer look at Chloe—their yellowed teeth, putrid breath, and bug eyes drew close to her face. As repulsed as she was, Chloe was unable to put up a fight—the exhaustion was simply too great. Yelling and drawing attention to herself was surely an option, but, as someone who had lived a life of subservience, she would not.
She could not.
Running away from home was an extraordinary case, as she’d been faced with mortal harm, but ordinarily an action like that would’ve been out of the question. Her obedient upbringing meant she had developed almost no sense of autonomy or self-determination.
“Come on, let’s go.” The bald man urged Chloe to move. “I said, let’s move.” Utterly exhausted, Chloe remained motionless—which he took as an act of defiance.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Alright boys, gimme a hand. Doesn’t look like this one wants to come quietly.”
“Gotcha, boss.”
“Shame.”
The three of them began dragging the exhausted Chloe along.
Do I even fight it anymore…? The thought crossed Chloe’s mind. She knew that bad things were in store for her, surely, but if she simply put up with it, just as she always had, it would go away eventually, right?
They would force her into all sorts of unpleasant things, but at least they wouldn’t kill her, right?
Looks like the reaper has finally caught up to me.
She had won her freedom, even if just for a moment. To her, that was enough.
I’m so tired…
Chloe closed her eyes, resigning herself to her fate—and yet…
No.
A voice cried out from the deepest, most intimate corner of her heart.
No, no, no, no, NO! Is this really how it’s going to end? After all I’ve been through? I’m going to get taken away by these strange men and let them do as they please? No, no, no, no! I’ll die before I let that happen!
With her last ounce of remaining strength, she cried out in a raspy whisper, “Somebody…”
The men stopped. “What’s that? You finally say something missy?” One taunted. He mimed like he was hard of hearing and brought his ear next to Chloe’s face.
“That’s enough.” An unfamiliar voice joined the fray.
“Huh? Who’re you?”
Unlike the other three men, the newcomer’s voice was deep and resolute. Finding comfort in its gentle, firm caress, Chloe slowly lifted her head to spy the source of the commotion.
Facing off against the three men stood the most handsome man she had ever seen. His disheveled black hair was darker than night and loosely combed back. Behind a simple shirt hid a lean and athletic, yet not overly muscular, physique. A dark and brooding expression was etched on his face, and a strong, chiseled nose loomed over tightly bound lips. A hint of youthful innocence remained on his otherwise sharp features, suggesting that he was not that much older than Chloe herself. Standing about two heads taller than her perfectly average height, he cradled a large bag in one arm, possibly filled with groceries from a recent shopping trip.
How…handsome… Thoughts of delirium floated through Chloe’s head.
The young man’s gaze slowly passed over the three men before coming to a stop on Chloe. His emerald eyes were as sharp as a knife and shone with an unshakeable resolve, giving off the impression that he was not someone to be messed with.
“You got a problem, kid?” Without hesitation, the leader attempted to intimidate the mysterious young man.
“I see three men trying to take a woman somewhere against her will. If that is the case, I hope you know that I cannot allow that to happen.”
Hearing the young man’s bold proclamation, all three men burst out into raucous laughter, shaking and bobbing so violently Chloe felt nauseous by association.
“Looks like we got a hero on our hands, boys,” the bald man said. “Tell you what, I ain’t gon’ judge, you can play pretend all you like, but this ain’t your business, so move along.”
“Not a very convincing statement coming from a lowlife who’s trying to take advantage of a vulnerable lady,” the young man shot back.
A pale blue vein in the bald man’s head bulged. “Well, sounds like this one’s got a death wish, don’t he?”
The two goons behind him shrugged. “Guess we gotta teach him a lesson.”
“Threatening violence on top of assaulting a woman? How foolish.”
The three goons were taken aback. “Who do you think you are getting off on false accusations like that?! Look at her, she ain’t resisting. You call this assault?”
Ignoring the drivel spewing out of the bald man’s mouth, the young man met Chloe’s eyes with an earnest gaze. “Then let me ask the lady.”
Chloe looked up, stunned.
“Did you agree to go with these men?”
In response, she dropped her head low, and uttered with trembling lips, “…Me.”
“Louder.”
“Please…help me.”
“Understood.”
With a nod, the young man slowly approached the group of three.
“You’re starting to piss me off, asshole,” the leader said. “It’s three against one. Get ’im, boys!”
The two thugs gave their leader affirmative grunts, then rushed the young man. Chloe was released from their grip and fell to her knees. She could only watch helplessly as the scene unfolded.
It was over in an instant.
Baldie threw the first punch—which the young man was quick to avoid by swiftly jerking his head to the side. Hitting air, Baldie stumbled forward. Seeing an opening, the young man used his free hand to deliver a chop to the back of Baldie’s neck. He let out a pained cry as he fell to the ground.
Next came Blondie. The young man dodged his attack with a clean, effortless motion before wrapping around him and countering with a swift kick to the back. Croaking like a dying frog, Blondie collapsed, incapacitated.
“Y-You bastard!” Having just seen his two buddies eat dirt in the blink of an eye, fear flickered in Bowl Cut’s eyes. He reached for a weapon in his breast pocket, when suddenly an onion whizzed by at incredible speed and smacked him square between the eyes. He pitched over and fell on his back.
The young man nimbly caught the projectile before it hit the ground—which he then nonchalantly stuffed back in his grocery bag.
Chloe could hardly believe her own eyes.
Whimpering and groaning, Baldie and Blondie pulled themselves off the ground, only to find the young man standing before them. “Haven’t had enough?”
Humiliated and demoralized, the two men cowered. “This…this guy’s crazy, boss!”
“Yeah, let’s get outta here!”
Dragging Bowl Cut behind them, Baldie and Blondie ran with their tails tucked between their legs.
“I suppose catching them is out of the question…” the young man murmured to himself.
To her savior, Chloe uttered two words. “You’re…amazing…”
She couldn’t help but marvel at his strength. Every aspect of his demeanor, from his posture, to his technique, to the way he improvised a weapon out of nothing, revealed the unmistakable signs of a seasoned fighter.
She gulped. Who…who have I just run into?
At that moment, the rain subsided, and Chloe was left in awe.
A beam of sunlight pierced through the thick cloud cover, illuminating the young man’s silhouette. She found herself enchanted by his imposing yet chivalrous beauty.
“Are you okay?” The young man moved next to her and dropped to his knees.
Their eyes met.
“Y-Yes, I, uhm…” Thank you for saving me—is what Chloe wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. Her lips floundered like a fish out of water.
“Your face is red. What’s wrong? Do you have a fever?” He put his hand up to her forehead, causing her to let out an odd whimper.
“Hm. Yes, you do.” The young man’s face turned pensive. “And you’re getting warmer. Are you okay?”
Chloe struggled with her words. Eye contact was its own separate ordeal. Her heart was beating out of her chest. Wh-Why is this happening? she thought, her face feeling hotter by the second.
I—Oh, no.
“Hey, hey!”
A hint of alarm tinged his voice as she drifted out of consciousness. Like a puppet with its strings cut, she went limp. Her eyelids draped over her vision like curtains over a stage, and everything went black.
The last thing she remembered was the sensation of being caught in someone’s arms.
◇◇◇
Chloe awoke.
An unfamiliar ceiling. An unfamiliar scent. Where was she? What was this place? Dazed and confused, she slowly sat up; her body felt like lead.
“You’re awake.”
She gasped in shock. Sitting by the bed was the young man that had saved her earlier. “Oh! Um, um… Um.”
“Relax.”
“…Okay.” Chloe took a deep breath in, then out. Her mind finally began to connect the dots.
“Thank you so much for saving me,” said Chloe with a timid bow.
“Of course,” the young man replied.
As she recalled the course of events that had just taken place, Chloe’s pulse quickened. The more she stared at his face, the more her composure faltered. She averted her gaze in embarrassment.
Get it together, Chloe! She scolded herself in her mind. First, she needed to understand her current situation. “Could I ask y—”
“Lloyd Stewart. You can call me Lloyd.”
“Oh! Yes. I’m Chloe, Chloe Ar—” She hesitated. On a whim, Chloe made the split second decision to keep her last name secret—for whatever good that would do after revealing her real first name.
“Chloe? Understood.” Lloyd accepted her introduction without a second thought, much to her relief.
“Um, so where…?”
“This is my home. Under proper procedure, I would have us wait and let the guards take custody of you, but since you fainted, and considering the circumstances, I took special action.”
Chloe squirmed. “I… Thank you for everything.” She bowed her head deeply once more.
“It was nothing. You woke earlier than I expected, which saved me some trouble. I was thinking about what I’d do if you didn’t wake for two or three days.”
“How long was I out?”
“Five hours. About as long as it takes for me to finish a book, plus a little extra.”
Chloe looked down and noticed the book resting by his feet. “Um…”
Lloyd grunted inquisitively.
“Have you been here the whole time?”
“Yes?” Lloyd replied. “I didn’t know if your condition would worsen, so I stayed just in case. Of course, I’ve been to the bathroom, and I made dinner as well, so no, technically I haven’t been in this chair the whole time.”
“I…I see.” Chloe responded, a little befuddled. Though grateful that he had stayed by her side the entire time, she couldn’t help but sense some oddness from the way he gave his reply so matter-of-factly.
“So are you feeling better?”
“Yes I feel much better thanks to you. My fever has gone down too.”
Though Chloe felt that a restful nap in a warm bed was enough for her to recover from the exhaustion and the rain, Lloyd seemed surprised. His eyes widened. “You recuperate quickly. You were running quite the temperature.”
Chloe giggled uncomfortably. “I…I guess.”
She knew that while she did have a mild fever, there was a separate and very different reason for her sudden increase in body temperature. Not that she had any intention of divulging this information to Lloyd voluntarily, of course.
Lloyd’s demeanor turned professional all at once. “Now that you’re feeling better, I need to ask you a few questions about your—”
Gurgle.
Chloe’s stomach cried out in hunger.
“Your face is reddening again, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine! Yes! I’m fine!”
No matter how natural a bodily response it may be for someone who ran out of sustenance three days and three nights ago (for water she made do with what came from the river), Chloe couldn’t help but feel agonizing embarrassment at her uncooperative stomach. She pulled the covers over her head in shame.
Lloyd simply observed her with abject curiosity. After a brief pause, he spoke, “I made some pot-au-feu, would you like some?”
Chloe popped her head out of the covers and tilted her head in confusion. “Pot-au-feu?”
“Pot-au-feu? It’s a stew made with meat, vegetables, consommé, and salt. It’s perfect for cold days like these. You’ve never heard of it?”
Gurgle.
“…”
“I’ll warm it up for you.”
“Th-Thank you…”
And once more, Chloe’s head dived beneath the covers.
◇◇◇
At a dining table set in the middle of an open living space, a wide-eyed Chloe was gulping down the aforementioned “pot-au-feu” at a lightning pace.
“I assume you like it?” Across the table from her was Lloyd, keenly observing her as she devoured the stew like a famished animal.
Chloe gulped down the contents in her mouth before bowing her head in shame. “I’m so sorry! Please excuse my manners, it’s just that I…haven’t had a proper meal in two weeks.”
If she were to be truthful, she’d tell him the soup was a little too salty, the bacon a little too bland, and the vegetables a little too undercooked. It was leaps and bounds better than the half-eaten leftovers she helped herself to at the Ardennes’, but it was still by no objective measure “good.”
But to Chloe, who’d endured these past two weeks on rock-hard preserved foods, river fish, berries, leaves, and roots, there was nothing better. And, having cooked exclusively for others her entire life, a meal made with her in mind felt as if it came from a better, brighter, but altogether alien reality.
“I honestly can’t begin to thank you enough,” she said.
Lloyd scratched his head uncomfortably in response to Chloe’s heartfelt expression of gratitude. “All I did was throw cut ingredients into a pot.” He paused. “I…didn’t think it’d be that impressive…”
After a brief moment of silence, Lloyd spoke again, “Here.” He slid his bowl of pot-au-feu over to Chloe.
“But this is yours…”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t touched it.”
“That’s not it. I just thought I’d be eating your dinner!”
“I don’t mind. In my line of work, I know what it’s like to survive three days and three nights on nothing but water. Not quite two weeks, but still. Besides, I can always make more,” Lloyd replied, again missing the point.
Though hesitant, Chloe got the sense that even if she were to reject his kind gesture, he wouldn’t back down. Besides, in her current state, she’d be hard-pressed to turn down an extra serving.
Gurgle.
Quiet down, you! Chloe reprimanded her own stomach.
“At least your body’s honest,” Lloyd said with a slight smile.
Chloe was looking for the nearest hole to crawl into. “Thank you,” she said, hesitantly accepting Lloyd’s offer.
Chloe felt a gentle, otherworldly warmth radiating from the otherwise lukewarm bowl. After finishing her own, she went in for seconds.
“It’s so good.” This second bowl of stew, still overly salty and its ingredients so undercooked it would earn her more than a stern talking-to if she served it at home, was better than the last. “It’s just delicious.”
This time she ate slowly, savoring the flavors.
As she did, she felt a heat welling up from within, as if a dam had just burst somewhere deep inside. Memories of her past life, of the past two weeks, of her struggle to survive flooded her mind.
Her vision blurred over.
“I—hey! What’s wrong? Was it something in the stew? …No, if that’s the case you would’ve noticed the first time around…”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just that… It’s just that it’s so delicious. It honestly, really is,” Chloe said, tears streaming down her face.
She could taste it all. The bacon, the carrots, the sausage, the onions, the soup—all of it.
I’m…I’m alive. Chloe felt as if a giant boulder had been lifted off her chest. A sense of relief and joy washed over her.
Lloyd could do nothing but stare awkwardly as a whirlwind of emotions swept over her—this was definitely not something he was accustomed to. And, though he would never admit it, he was at a loss for what to say in this situation.
“Well…enjoy,” he said simply.
Chloe gave a quiet nod. She had forgotten what it felt like to be on the receiving end of so much care. That too helped spur the waterworks.
It seemed that the pot-au-feu would be extra salty tonight.
Chloe continued to sob and eat, while Lloyd looked on in silence.
◇◇◇
After finishing her meal for two, Chloe found herself comfortably seated with Lloyd on a sofa, surrounding a low table.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Chloe said, bowing her head deeply.
“Not to worry. Judging by the way you spoke and your physical condition, I’m sure you have your reasons.” Lloyd said, eyeing her tattered clothes and scraped skin.
“I’m…yes. It was very hard… I think.” She stared off into the distance, her tone full of confusion. The upheaval in her life the past two weeks was so great, she felt like she had just awoken from a terrible nightmare.
“Oh! My bag…” She suddenly remembered her belongings, the only physical reminder she had to prove everything was in fact real.
“It’s in the room you were just in. I haven’t looked through it, I assure you.”
“Thank you again, for everything,” replied Chloe.
“So,” Lloyd said, cutting to the chase. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”
Chloe’s breath caught in her chest. She knew this was coming. She knew that he would ask. In fact, it was a miracle he hadn’t already. Any reasonable person would have treated her with a healthy dose of distrust. He must’ve believed he would be able to handle her if she tried anything, she thought.
“I, um…” she said. “I had a fight with my parents, and I ran away from home…”
Though that was technically the truth, she refrained from telling the whole story. She was afraid that if she did, the authorities would get involved and they would contact her family. If worse came to worst, they might even take her back.
Please, please, anything but that. Recalling her hellish days, Chloe involuntarily hugged herself.
“I see. So you’re a runaway…” Lloyd’s voice trailed off, deep in thought. “You must’ve come a long way.”
“Huh?” Chloe looked on in surprise.
“Your pack is caked with mud and dirt and bits of leaves, your shoes are in tatters, and your skin is pockmarked all over—thorns, I suspect? You also said you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in two weeks, which means…” he paused. “You must’ve come here from several mountains over.”
Chloe was astonished by Lloyd’s insight.
“Am I right?”
She spoke after a brief pause, “Yes, that’s—that’s right. I did come from just a little bit aways.”
“Just a little bit, eh?”
The interrogation was calm and civilized, but Chloe couldn’t shake the feeling that he saw through everything. She sat, nervous and agitated, anticipating further questions that would pick apart her alibi—but none came.
What sort of argument did you have with your parents?
Which far away region did you come from specifically?
Nothing. Lloyd didn’t pry for specifics. Chloe couldn’t help but wonder about his motives.
“Why come to the capital?” Lloyd restarted his questioning.
“Because I wanted to.”
“And why is that?”
Chloe paused to organize her thoughts. “I used to know somebody—a long time ago—who told me all about how wonderful the capital is, so I wanted to come visit at least once before I died.”
A subtle, wry smile crept onto Lloyd’s face. “The capital’s not that great of a place. It’s chaotic, the air is stale, and there’s no shortage of hoodlums like the ones that attacked you.”
“Even so.” Chloe smiled gently, looking Lloyd in the eyes. “Even if that is the case, I know now that there are also kind and wonderful people like you, and that alone has already made my trip worthwhile.”
At Chloe’s impassioned response, a look of discomfort flitted onto Lloyd’s face. “I see,” he said, scratching his head.
Did I say something to upset him? wondered Chloe, tilting her head in confusion.
Lloyd’s next question followed quickly. “Now, what are you planning on doing next?”
Chloe was unable to offer an immediate response to this question. “I don’t really have anything in mind.”
“Any money?”
“…No.”
Silence descended upon the pair.
Uncomfortable with the heavy air in the room, Chloe sought to lighten the mood. “W-Well! I’m sure I’ll figure something out! There are a lot of people here, after all. And if worse comes to worst I’ll just return to the mountains and go forage, or…”
“Your situation is worse than I had thought.” Lloyd crossed his arms and paused in contemplation. “In any case, you’ll be staying here for the night.”
“Huh?! I couldn’t possibly…”
“Don’t worry, this house is inexcusably large as is, and there’s a free room available. Of course, you have it on my word as a knight that no harm will come to you here.”
Of course, that was not the part that Chloe had objected to, but instead of dwelling on that, she was distracted by a new piece of information that tickled her curiosity. “I just had one question, if you don’t mind…”
“Yes?”
“What is it that you do, exactly?”
“Of course,” Lloyd replied. “I’m a knight with the First Order of the Knights Rose. Besides that, I have no special peerage—I don’t come from noble heritage.”
Chloe had difficulty figuring out whether she should be taken aback or not. If Lloyd were a knight, it would explain how he could so easily defeat three random street thugs. Knights, according to Lloyd, were primarily tasked with defense of their kingdom, and were more heavily armed than their city guard counterparts, who typically handled only lesser and petty crimes.
But Lloyd was still far more impressive than she could’ve imagined. Of those in the knightly orders, the First Order was a handpicked group of one hundred elite warriors. First Order knights were typically found either stationed in the royal castle, occupied with daily training, patrolling the streets of the capital, or occasionally dispatched to the countryside, tasked with quelling local troubles.
Lloyd must’ve been off duty today, thought Chloe.
Moreover, the two were currently in the North District. Owing to its proximity to the royal castle, the North District was known for its safety and was home to fellow knights and members of nobility. Lloyd’s home was a two-story detached house with a yard, furnished to members of the Order. Its spacious and luxurious interiors left Chloe with little doubt that the elegance of his home reflected his importance in society.
After briefly explaining things to Chloe, Lloyd fielded a suggestion. “How about taking a bath? You should clean yourself up.”
“A…bath?” Chloe echoed, as if it was a completely foreign notion.
“A bath? It’s when you soak yourself in a basin filled with warm water. You’ve never heard of it? It’s a great way to relax when you’re tired,” explained Lloyd.
“You’re telling me such a marvel exists?!”
Witnessing Chloe’s reaction full of wonderment and surprise, Lloyd stifled a small chuckle.
“D-Did I say something strange?”
“No, no. My apologies. That was an interesting reaction, is all.”
“I-I’m so sorry! I overreacted…”
“No worries. It was refreshing, if anything.”
Not picking up on Lloyd’s enjoyment of the situation, Chloe hung her head low.
“Back to the matter at hand. A bath is no marvel—it’s an amenity, if anything. Not every house will have one, but as it happens, mine does. The capital has direct access to the ocean and rivers, and we have plentiful water, so it’s a bit of a custom here.”
“Wow… The capital is amazing…”
Though it may come as a surprise to hear that a noble raised in the household of a margrave had never seen a bath in her life, the truth was that in Chloe’s mountainous hometown, hygiene habits consisted mainly of wiping oneself down, or taking quick dips into cold water. Chloe herself, as she was restricted from using towels to cleanse herself, washed in secret by taking dips into the river that ran through their estate. While refreshing in summertime, it was pure hell in winter.
Lloyd hummed in thought. “Those open wounds of yours might sting, so a quick wipe might be better after all.”
“No, no! That’s okay, I’ll manage!”
Though Chloe had wiped herself off in a river before entering the capital and had been drenched by the rain, she hadn’t had a proper wash in over two weeks. She was desperate for the opportunity.
But before that, and above all else…
“I’m very interested in this…this bath, was it? If it’d be no trouble to you, of course. I wouldn’t not be inclined to try it out for myself.”
“Okay, understood. Just…settle down, I’m losing track of your words.”
“Oh—sorry…” Chloe realized that she had inadvertently jutted herself forward. She meekly sat herself back down.
Watching Chloe ride the highest of highs before dropping to the lowest of lows, Lloyd chuckled to himself.
“Was there something funny?” Chloe inquired after a short pause.
“No, no. I was just thinking about how interesting each and every one of your reactions are.”
Chloe felt her cheeks burn up.
“I’ll go fill up the bath. You can relax for a bit.”
“Y-Yes, thank you very much.”
Chloe watched as Lloyd made his exit from the living room. A sharp pang of guilt stabbed at her chest. Is it really okay for him to keep doing all this for me?
◇◇◇
After following Lloyd to the changing room, Chloe began to undress when she suddenly stopped. She remembered the birthmark on her back and the various scars on her body inflicted by her family and hesitated.
Well, it’s not like it matters now.
In the end, the temptation of the bath was too great. Chloe shed herself of her ragged clothes and made her way into the bathing room.
She was immediately hit with a pleasant, woody fragrance, and she unwittingly closed her eyes.
“Wow…” When she opened her eyes, the sight before her took her breath away. She had never seen a room like this before. Next to the entrance was a space that looked like it was for washing. A wooden pail was lined up next to several small bottles filled with unknown liquids. Behind that was a long rectangular basin full of hot water, its curling tails of steam beckoning her. The whole scene was gently lit by candlelight.
Chloe’s excitement began to bubble over. Following Lloyd’s instructions on bath etiquette, she first made her way over to the washing station, and used the pail to scoop hot water over herself.
“Ow.” The hot water washed over her and ran along unhealed wounds, making Chloe grimace. But immediately after, she was enveloped by the feeling of warmth and comfort.
Lloyd had also instructed her on the use of soaps, so Chloe went ahead and tried some, lathering up her hair and body. “Ow!” Her wounds stung again. “But it smells so good!” Floral and fruity aromas wafted through the air, and Chloe’s face slackened. I could smell this forever! The sensation of the lather on her body, too, Chloe found new and interesting. She couldn’t quite put it into words, but she felt that perhaps this is what being clean truly meant.
After thoroughly washing herself, she made her way over to the bathtub. She went in slowly, feet first, and carefully lowered herself in.
As she sank into the bathwater, a sigh of relaxation escaped her lips—a first for Chloe. I can’t believe such a marvel exists! she thought as her body and mind melted into the warm water.
She gazed up towards the ceiling. An installed skylight offered an uninterrupted view of the night sky. As she gazed languidly into the starry depths, a feeling of quietude enveloped her.
She felt that if she closed her eyes, the sweet embrace of slumber would take her then and there, but recalling Lloyd’s warning—you’ll catch a cold if you fall asleep in the bath, so try your best to remain conscious—Chloe pinched her cheek. “It hurts… I’m not dreaming…” she muttered to herself.
Two weeks ago, her own mother tried to kill her, and she fled her home. She crossed mountains and rivers upon mountains and rivers before making it to the royal capital with no one to call on and no money to her name. Now, she was drowning in the lap of luxury. Chloe doubted whether this was the real thing or some fever dream cooked up by her mind on the brink of death.
If that’s the case… A feeling of abject terror flooded Chloe’s mind.
She chased those thoughts away.
The comfort that she currently felt—that was real. If she pinched her cheek, it hurt. This wasn’t a dream. She was alive.
She had to be.
At any rate, she couldn’t believe that such a luxurious custom existed. In her neck of the woods, where the rivers ran drier and fewer, using such large quantities of hot water to bathe was unthinkable.
“The capital really is amazing…” Chloe muttered to herself, when suddenly—
“How’s the water?”—Lloyd’s voice rang out from behind the changing room door.
SPLASH.
Surprised, Chloe created a large splash in the tub.
“Sorry, did I surprise you?” Lloyd said.
“N-No, no! I’m perfect! The water’s perfect! H-How are you?”
“I’m…fine?”
Realizing that a single partition was all that separated her stark-naked self from Lloyd, her cheeks flushed red hot.
“I’m leaving a towel for you here.”
“Okay! Thank you!”
Hearing Lloyd’s departing footsteps, Chloe dipped her head down below the waterline and blew bubbles into the water. That was so embarrassing…
Alas, what convinced Chloe that this was reality more than anything else was the way her heart fluttered in her chest and her body ran hotter whenever Lloyd came around.
◇◇◇
Finished with her bath, Chloe passed her arms through the sleeves of a shirt many times her size—Lloyd had left it with the towel that he had brought her.
Touched by his quiet gesture of consideration, Chloe felt a gentle smile break out on her face. The large size and faint odor of someone else made her heart skip a beat.
Making her way back to the living room, she found Lloyd on the sofa, reading a book.
Looking up, Lloyd blinked his eyes in surprise. “You look…different.”
Oblivious to the fluster on Lloyd’s face, Chloe responded, “Yes, I feel much cleaner now, thanks to you.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Confused, Chloe cocked her head to the side, still oblivious to the way Lloyd was sheepishly scratching at his own cheek.
“Never mind that. Did you like your first bath?” Lloyd said.
“Yes! It was heaven.”
“Meaning it felt so good you thought you had gone there?”
“Exactly.” Chloe paused awkwardly before continuing. “Thank you—for the shirt, that is.”
“Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t find anything in your size. It must be too large, but you’ll have to make do; forgive me.”
“No, no, please. I’m already grateful that you would lend me anything at all!” Chloe said, a large yawn punctuating the end of her sentence.
“You must be tired.”
“Oh no, I-I’m fine—” Another yawn. It seemed that the warm bath had imparted upon Chloe a serious case of drowsiness.
“Don’t force yourself. You probably haven’t had a good night’s sleep in two weeks. I doubt you’ve fully recovered just from that short nap alone.”
Chloe gave a dry chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”
“The bags under your eyes don’t lie. You should sleep.”
“Yes, then I suppose I shall.”
Lloyd, now standing, stretched a hand out towards Chloe.
“I—uhm? Yes?” Chloe’s heavy eyelids shot wide open at the sudden development.
“It’d be dangerous if you tripped and fell in your current drowsy state. I can escort you.”
“Y-Yes, of course. Please, and thank you.”
“Think nothing of it.”
Speechless at Lloyd’s heedlessly candid offer, Chloe took his hand. Feeling a hand that was much broader, firmer, and rougher than her own, she was suddenly overcome with a sense of security.
Led by the hand, Chloe walked behind Lloyd like a baby bird.
They made their way down to the room where Chloe had first awakened, and Lloyd stopped. “Unfortunately, I hadn’t foreseen that I’d be having guests, so while I have an extra room, I don’t have an extra bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa, so this room is yours.”
Chloe gasped in surprise. “I couldn’t possibly!”
“Not to worry. A knight is trained to sleep anywhere. If anything, the sofa is preferable compared to the sleepless nights I spent in the depths of the jungle.” Lloyd rattled off an impressive feat as if it were nothing.
Inferring that perhaps this was his attempt at alleviating her guilt, Chloe decided to take him up on his kind-hearted offer. Besides, the fluffy white bedspread in front of her looked far too inviting. “I’ll take you up on that then. Thank you.”
“No problem.” Lloyd paused, as if remembering something. “Right, I forgot to ask earlier, but how old are you?”
“I’ll be…sixteen this year.”
“Sixteen? Then there’s no issue, I suppose.”
“Issue? What issue?”
“Here in the capital, the age of adulthood is fifteen. As you can imagine, it’d be ill-fitting for a man of my station to let someone not of age stay the night.”
“I see.” Chloe paused. “Would it not have been prudent to have asked this question first, then?”
Lloyd scratched at his head sheepishly. “It simply slipped my mind. In any case, there’s no problem here.”
Having intuited Lloyd as austere and somewhat callous, Chloe was a little relieved seeing him slip up like that.
“What about you, by the way?” she asked.
“I’m nineteen.”
At least that part of Chloe’s intuition proved correct. Nineteen made him the same age as her sister. But—unlike her sister—Lloyd was calm, collected, and mature.
Nineteen years old and a First Order knight? Isn’t that extraordinary?
Though ignorant to the ways of the capital, if Chloe were to hazard a guess, she would’ve assumed that nineteen would’ve been an age of apprenticeship for any profession. For someone at that age to be part of a handpicked group of one hundred people out of the entire kingdom—he must have been exceptional.
Unaware of Chloe’s internal dialogue, Lloyd continued. “Snuff out the candle whenever you wish. One more thing, I’ll be attending to my duties tomorrow, so I’ll come wake you before I leave.”
“Okay! Thank you very much.”
“Right.”
Lloyd made his leave, and all turned silent. A final wave of lethargy crashed over Chloe, and she sunk into the bedspread. “So warm… So soft…”
A relaxing scent tickled the tip of her nose.
Perhaps she was in heaven, she thought. Maybe this was a fever dream after all. But this time, she didn’t even have the energy to pinch herself. She surrendered herself to the bed’s warm embrace and drifted off into a deep slumber.
