༺ Swamp ༻
“……”
Having indulged in a long sleep in his own bedroom, Ferzen slowly opened his eyes.
The fatigue lingering in his muscles and the ache in his bones were unfamiliar sensations.
‘Is it… 4 in the afternoon already?’
Unsure of how long he had slept since the morning, Ferzen got off the bed, massaging his tired eyes, and opened the window.
A chilly breeze blew in, carrying away the drowsiness and gradually clearing his foggy mind.
Perhaps Yuriel, who had been confined to her bedroom all day, had taken care of herself and come out?
Having eased some of his weak and vile feelings through the night of intimacy with Laura, Ferzen tidied his disheveled hair and messy clothes in the newfound leisure and stepped into the hallway.
However, as he entered her room, Yuriel was nowhere to be found.
Thinking that she might be in the mansion’s garden, he stepped onto the balcony and looked down, but he still couldn’t see her. Ferzen brushed his face once and quietly walked around the mansion.
Tap-tap.
“……”
Then, he saw Yuriel sitting in the living room on the third floor, where the piano was, looking out the window and enjoying a modest tea.
Her black hair shone like the Milky Way under the pouring bright sunlight, presenting a beautiful figure.
Her impeccable dignity while merely drinking tea reminded him anew of what kind of a woman she was.
However, her overly peaceful appearance, like a painting, gave Ferzen a strange feeling, as if it was artificially created.
Indeed, it seemed more like she was packaging herself to appear that way, rather than it being natural.
“……Yuriel.”
Then, Ferzen quietly called her name.
“Did you… wake up?”
She flinched and looked at him with a bright smile, her shoulders trembling.
“……”
Watching her, Ferzen approached and gently brushed her black hair that flowed down her delicate jawline.
“Why, what is it…?”
Yuriel, looking up at him, asked a slightly awkward and trembling question.
Ferzen, who held her beautiful cheek with his large hand, broke the silence and answered.
“Just because you show me your weak side… it won’t be a burden to me.”
“What, what are you talking about all of a sudden…”
“I mean, I’m not so pitiful that I can’t face your weakness.”
“……”
In poor, impoverished households, it’s often like this.
They don’t share the worries and concerns they have because they won’t be solved anyway, and it would just weigh down the family.
At the same time, they hope that other family members do the same.
After all, they couldn’t solve their worries and concerns even if they shared them.
If they tried to share them without noticing that, they would resent it inside, wondering why the other person was doing so when they were holding it in so hard.
Like fruits that rot from the inside, contrary to their tempting appearance…
There are not a few people and families who deliberately turn their backs on darkness and forcibly show only their bright sides.
And if he wanted their relationship to deteriorate in that way, he wouldn’t have confessed his true feelings that day.
He wouldn’t have made a resolution to confess his hidden secrets when the time came.
“Seeing you afraid of war and wallowing in my own pathetic and helpless inability to solve it, what’s so wrong with that?”
“……”
“There won’t be any resentment in you being a shallow woman because of that. Otherwise, I’d be a coward for having confessed to you that day.”
“……”
“Yuriel. It’s been… a long time since we have only shown each other our good sides.”
I am aware of your plain self, unadorned with makeup or flashy clothes.
I also know the vulgar side of you that stokes desire, with not a trace of dignity to be found.
And you know the side of me that trembles in fear, like a coward afraid of his wife’s death.
You also know the perverted side of me that seeks pleasure through brutal sexual relations.
“So, it’s not surprising now… to face you trembling in fear of war.”
Some say that love is what makes an ordinary man look like a prince and an ordinary woman look like a princess.
That’s probably not far off.
The stark difference between oneself and others can indeed be called love.
However, Ferzen believed that the gap that created this difference was discovering the fragile and vile side that the other person had not shown.
The man who looked like a prince was actually just an ordinary man.
The woman who looked like a princess was actually just an ordinary woman…
Realizing this, one could say, is the essence of love.
“It’s okay to tell me if you’re scared. If a wife can’t show her weak side to her husband… then who else is she supposed to show it to?”
He didn’t want the constrained devotion of not being able to reveal such vulnerability because he was her husband.
……And so, when Ferzen spoke, Yuriel’s lips began to tremble.
“Kuh… Sob…!”
She tried to turn her head, unwilling to display her grotesquely distorted face, but his large hand holding her cheek wouldn’t allow it.
And so, Yuriel vividly showed Ferzen her tear-streaked crying face.
Ferzen found it not strange at all and leaned in, touching his lips to the corner of her mouth.
Then, a pitiful touch wrapped around his back.
As if in response, Ferzen also grabbed Yuriel’s waist and tenderly pulled her into his arms.
Certainly, only things with no form, no measurable value, are conveyed…
With each exchange, you gradually realize the preciousness of the other person.
‘So……’
Yuriel.
Euphemia.
Even if the beginning was a life lived by a man named Ferzen.
Let the end be, without fail, a life as your husband.
* * * * *
“……”
In the hallway, illuminated by sunlight streaming in from the living room, Laura, who had reluctantly concealed herself, squeezed the rabbit doll in her arms as she overheard the conversation between Ferzen and Yuriel.
A pang of discomfort pricked a corner of her heart as she witnessed a scene she wished to avoid.
Shortly after, the two individuals strolled toward the piano, settled in affectionately, and began to play while Laura pouted.
‘Hmph……’
Yuriel’s piano notes, unable to match his skilled technique, grated on her nerves.
There was no doubt that if she was sitting next to him instead of Yuriel, she could have delivered a much superior performance.
So, as the pitiful white rabbit suffered from his mistress’ emotions, Ferzen and Yuriel continued their affectionate duet.
* * * * *
December 8th.
“……”
Lizzy, preparing to be discharged from the hospital room, gingerly touched her own neck.
The inflammation that had once caused her unbearable pain had completely subsided.
Her gaunt body had regained its flesh, restoring vitality.
However, her expressionless face and half-dead violet eyes swallowed that vitality, casting a gloomy atmosphere.
Squeak.
Seating herself in a wheelchair, she wheeled out of the hospital room, heading to the lobby on the first floor to settle the hospital bill.
“Ah…”
Yet, as she stood in line waiting to pay, people cut in front of her without acknowledging her presence.
They pushed her wheelchair aside with their feet, leaving her behind. Neither onlookers nor nurses intervened.
Sob!
A wave of sorrow overwhelmed her, but Lizzy clenched her jaw tightly, holding back tears.
After a long wait, when the line had cleared, Lizzy’s turn came. She stroked her altar and opened her subspace.
“Ah…”
But all that was inside were the coffins containing the corpses she had and the relics of her brothers.
She thought she could have the maids go to the mansion for a moment, but she was reminded too late that no one was with her.
“……”
Returning to and from the mansion would mean enduring another long line. She’d wait hopelessly at the back, her turn never arriving.
Unable to pay the hospital bill with her brothers’ relics, Lizzy mockingly turned her wheelchair around.
Tap.
Seeing a man passing by, Lizzy instinctively reached out and roughly grabbed his sleeve.
“Wait here.”
Ferzen, shaking off her hand, paid Lizzy’s hospital bill on his own.
“Ha… Uh…!”
How could every hypocritical kindness he displayed be so repugnant?
She wanted to scream that she didn’t need it.
But her voice wouldn’t come out.
As Ferzen finished settling the payment and approached her, he took control of the corpse handling the wheelchair, leading it away. Lizzy bit her lip, her head bowed.
It seemed absurd that all the hostile gazes directed at her dissipated just because a man named Ferzen stood by her side.
‘You people……’
They likely knew nothing about the repulsive and vile nature of this man.
Yet, intentionally, Lizzy didn’t expose it.
Because, although she had never told a lie, she had become the girl who cried wolf.
Yes, the people who would hear her say that the wolf had appeared and come running…
No longer existed in this world.
Squeak.
Soon, Ferzen, who had stepped outside, maneuvered the wheelchair in the opposite direction of her mansion.
But Lizzy couldn’t dare object to it.
……Because even that mansion was no longer a place for her to return to.
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