…
Arriving at Lysandros's door, I knocked gently before entering without waiting for his response. The scene inside was perfect. Lysandros was tied to his bed, his wrists and ankles bound firmly with the rope he had used to attempt to hang himself. His eyes were filled with terror and confusion. He struggled weakly, exhausted by his efforts and despair. I approached him, my cold and calculating gaze fixed on his face.
"Lysandros,"
I began in a soft but authoritative voice,
"I'm doing this for your own good."
He slowly widened his eyes. I sat on the edge of the bed, taking a breath before continuing. "You see, Lysandros, the world can be cruel. It sometimes pushes you to extremes, plunging you into the deepest despair. But I'm here to prevent you from doing the irreparable."
I tilted my head slightly toward him, my piercing gaze never leaving his.
"I know you tried to hang yourself, and I understand your despair. But death is not the solution. You still have much to accomplish and much to learn. By tying you up like this, I am preventing you from harming yourself. I am giving you a chance to reflect, to find a new perspective."
I paused, letting my words sink into his mind.
"Lysandros, you must understand that I am not your enemy. I am here to guide you, to help you through this ordeal. You are stronger than you think, and together, we will overcome this."
To conclude my plan, I stood up, leaning slightly to whisper in his ear.
"Rest now. You need to regain your strength. And remember, I am here for you."
I straightened up, casting one last look at Lysandros before leaving the room. Behind me, I could hear his muffled sobs, mingled with total confusion. As I gently closed the door, I knew the game was far from over. But for now, I was undeniably winning.
I descended the stairs, each step bringing me back to a certain normality. The house was strangely quiet after the day's events. I took my time in the kitchen, preparing a special salad made of Aurorella, with the most pronounced dawn colors, which I had carefully selected for their taste and appearance.
Once the salad was prepared, I called out loudly,
"Dinner is ready!"
Then, adding with a smile,
"I made an Auratrian salad; I hope I did it well!"
A few moments later, Ume came down and sat at the table with me. Her eyes were still a bit red, but she sat up straight, trying to regain control. She looked around, then asked,
"Why isn't Lysandros coming?"
I took a bite of my salad before answering, choosing my words carefully.
"I saw him before coming down,"
I said softly.
"He's sleeping deeply. The day's events were exhausting for him. He needs rest."
I took a moment to observe Ume, trying to gauge her state of mind. She seemed to accept my response, nodding slightly. But I could see a glimmer of suspicion in her eyes. Ume was intelligent, and I knew she was searching for answers. But for now, she was content with my version of events.
"He must be really exhausted,"
she said softly, looking at her plate.
"I'm worried about him."
"I understand, Ume,"
I replied in a gentle and reassuring voice.
"Lysandros has been through difficult times. But he needs rest to recover."
She seemed to ponder my words, her eyes searching for the truth behind my words.
"If you think it's what's best for him, Mr. Naboru,"
she murmured finally.
I smiled, trying to ease her doubts.
"Ume, look me in the eyes… Do you truly want what's best for him?"
She timidly raised her eyes to me, and I could see fear and uncertainty dancing in her pupils. Ume was broken, shaped by Lysandros's incessant abuses, and this question pierced directly through her true feelings.
"Of course,"
she replied in an almost imperceptible voice.
"It's my duty."
I let silence hang, savoring the moment.
"Your duty, you say? And what if I told you that perhaps, just perhaps, it's time for you to think about your own well-being?"
She widened her eyes, surprised by my words.
"Mr. Naboru… I…"
"Ume, you have been loyal, obedient, far beyond what one can expect from someone in your position."
I leaned slightly forward, placing my hand on hers. "But don't you think the time has come for you to find peace?"
She remained silent, her lips trembling slightly.
"This house,"
I continued in a soft but firm voice,
"has been nothing but a disguised prison for you. You deserve much more than that. You deserve freedom, respect, and yes, even happiness."
"But… what about Lysandros?"
Her voice was fragile, almost a whisper.
I was about to respond, but her gaze subtly changed. She straightened slightly, taking a deep breath, and suddenly, it was no longer the terrified servant who faced me.
"Mr. Naboru,"
she began in an unexpectedly calm and controlled voice.
"I understand your intentions, and I appreciate them. You have always been so good to me, always attentive to my well-being."
I remained silent, carefully observing this change in tone. She continued, her words becoming more assured, almost captivating.
"You know,"
she said, tilting her head slightly, her eyes locking onto mine with disconcerting intensity.
"I am grateful for everything you have done for me. Truly, I am. Lysandros… he has his flaws, of course, but there are moments when he is simply… human."
Every word was carefully chosen, each sentence a subtly poisoned caress. She managed to sow doubt in my mind, to shake my determination.
"He protects me in his own way,"
she added, an almost sincere smile forming on her lips.
"I am not as fragile as one might think."
The truth of this statement struck me like a thunderbolt. This young woman, this broken servant, had managed to turn the situation around, to enchant me with her own version of events.
I recovered quickly, regaining my composure.
"Ume,"
I said softly but firmly,
"I know you are strong, stronger than you let on. But soon, all this will be over. I promise you."
She remained silent for a moment, her eyes scrutinizing me with unsettling perceptiveness. Then, without hesitation, she responded with a genuine smile, a smile that seemed to come from the depths of her heart.
"Thank you,"
she said simply.
"How do you find the salad?"
I asked, changing the subject to lighten the atmosphere.
She took a bite and smiled.
"It's delicious, Mr. Naboru. The colors are beautiful, and the taste is perfect."
"Thank you, Ume,"
I replied, satisfied.
"I thought something light and colorful would be perfect for tonight. We all need some comfort after this day."
We continued eating in silence, each bite of the Auratrian salad. But in my mind, the gears kept turning. Plans had to be adjusted, pieces repositioned. And Ume, with her devotion and intelligence, would be a valuable ally in the coming days, yet I feared that due to her intelligence, I might not have her so easily.
-After all, this Ume, do I really want her to be just a pawn?-
Just having this thought pained me.
-Damn, why does my chest hurt so much, she's just a servant, I shouldn't feel anything for her, no pity, damn it-
I stood up abruptly, clutching my chest as the pain intensified. Ume immediately looked up, worry etched on her face.
"Mr. Naboru, are you okay? You look... in pain."
I ignored her concern, shocked by the intensity of my own emotions. My hands trembled, I was sweating profusely, and every step was an effort. I straightened up, trying to hide my pain behind a mask of impassivity.
"It's nothing, Ume,"
I said, regaining my composure, though my voice slightly betrayed my suffering.
"Just a little indisposition. Excuse me. Could you clear the table, please?"
"Of course, Mr. Naboru,"
she replied immediately, her voice tinged with solicitude.
-I don't understand, all this I….-
I suddenly stopped, a piercing realization cutting through my mind like a blade through the heart.
-Naboru, you don't need to do all this, all these long plans, if you just wanted to meet the king with Lysandros's help. All these details thought out in advance, all this learning, and above all, this emotion… Are you sure you're doing this only for yourself? Could it be that I… I'm doing this for… No, no, it's improbable. Yet… -
I shook my head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts. There was no room for doubt. No room for uncertainty. I had to stay focused, determined. For myself but also, for her?
I turned to Ume, watching her for a moment as she carefully cleared the table. Every gesture was precise with a natural grace. Her presence, her devotion, all of it mattered to me, I could not deny it.
"Ume,"
I said softly, my voice suddenly gentler.
"Could you give me some of the salad? I'm going to see Lysandros, even if it means waking him up. He needs to eat."
She nodded, quickly preparing a plate of salad. I took it from her hands, our fingers briefly touching, a contact that sparked a strange mix of warmth and discomfort in me.
"Thank you."
I murmured before turning on my heels and climbing the stairs, each step echoing through the silent house.
Arriving in front of Lysandros' door, I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. Then, with a swift motion, I flung the door open. Lysandros was still tied to his bed, his wrists and ankles firmly bound with the ropes I had used to restrain him. The bed, usually so tidy, was now his new prison. His eyes, filled with palpable terror, turned towards me, pleading. His face was a canvas of distress. His eyes, widened by anguish, desperately sought a sign of mercy from me. His lips trembled slightly, his breathing was ragged and broken. He seemed lost. His skin, already pale, appeared almost translucent under the glow of the candles, and his hair fell in disheveled strands around his face. Every tremble of his body was a silent testimony to his terror.
"N-Naboru, please..."
His voice was barely more than a desperate whisper.
"Stop, I beg you... Don't do this..."
He tried to move, but the ropes held him in place, each movement only adding more pain to his torment. His eyes sought mercy in mine.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything... Don't do this to me, please!"
I remained silent, the shadow of a cruel smile as I advanced towards him. My piercing gaze never left his face, I had to observe every expression and every movement to ensure I captured every detail of his being, to avoid any failure in my mission, which now extended beyond myself. I took the plate of Auratrian salad I had prepared earlier. I approached Lysandros, placing the plate on a small table beside him. His eyes followed every movement, the fear in his gaze transforming into nameless terror when he understood what I intended to do. Without a word, I plunged my hand into the salad, grabbing a handful. My gesture was methodical; I wanted it to appear as a mere piece of flesh. I made a motion with my fingers, mixing the ingredients as if preparing an ordinary dish, knowing this only increased his stress.
I extended my hand towards his mouth, my fingers loaded with salad, and shoved the food directly into his mouth. The action was brutal, with no tenderness, just sufficiently degrading to destroy him. The salad piled up in his mouth, crushing his lips against his teeth.
"Eat, Lysandros. You need strength."
My voice was cold, devoid of any compassion. He tried to pull back, but the ropes prevented him from escaping.
"No, I don't want to... I don't want to..."
His murmurs were muffled by the food. His eyes filled with tears, rolling down his cheeks, mixed with the pieces of salad falling from his lips. I took another handful of salad, more this time, and forced it into his mouth, my fingers pressing the food in with such insistence it made him want to retch, knowing he would spit it all over himself.
"You're going to eat all of this, Lysandros. It's for your own good. You need to stay strong for what's to come."
His mouth was now full, the bits of flowers and leaves mixing with his tears. He tried to speak, but the words were drowned under the food.
"Please... stop... I beg you..."
I took another handful of salad and forced it into him again.
"You still have much to learn, Lysandros."
I murmured these words with cold intensity, observing his tears flow into his mouth.
"You must understand that all this is to open your eyes, to make you see the truth behind your pain as a submissive man."
I continued to feed him the salad, my face impassive as I watched his eyes fill with growing terror. His tears now flowed unchecked, mingling with the bits of food accumulating in his mouth.
"Eat. This is all necessary for you, I told you."
I took a final handful of salad, pushing the mixture into his mouth which made him regurgitate everything he had eaten. The reaction was immediate, he vomited. The bits of flowers and leaves came out in a viscous torrent, splattering the sheets and spreading around him. The vomit pooled into a disgusting puddle on him, a mix of chewed salad pieces and repugnant gastric fluids. His face was contorted in disgust and suffering, his eyes widening as if facing an abyss of despair caused by me. The food he had swallowed earlier was now a horrible mass, a substance his body refused to contain. The nauseating smell filled the room, a mix of vomit and vinaigrette that filled the air with an unbearable stench.
"Ah, you vomit it all out, don't you Lysandros?"
I said in a cold voice, observing the scene with malicious satisfaction.
"Look at what you've created, what you've forced me to do."
I plunged my hands into the warm, viscous vomit, taking a handful of this repulsive mixture, and smeared it on the back of my hand, letting the bits of food and liquid slide down. The mixture clung to my fingers, a thick and disgusting paste oozing between my knuckles.
"There you go, Lysandros,"
I continued, looking at my hand.
"Everything you vomited, I'm going to make you eat again. Every piece, every drop, every milliliter."
I took another handful of this vile paste, my fingers plunging into the vomit. I spread the mixture on his lips, forcing them open under the pressure of my fingers.
"Open wide, Lysandros,"
I ordered in a firm but almost joyful voice.
"It's time to taste what you've rejected, to reconcile with your own vomit."
His lips trembled, his eyes widened as he looked at the pestilent mixture I was about to introduce to him. I pressed the vomit against his lips, forcing them to open wider.
"Open wide, or I'll have to be more persuasive,"
I forced the mixture into his mouth. The texture was thick and coarse, a pure sample of his degradation. He tried to pull back, but my fingers pressed harder, forcing the vomit into his mouth. I could see his face contort in disgust, his eyes filling with pure terror as he tried to hold back the mixture, but his attempts were in vain.
"Swallow, Lysandros, you can't escape this. Every bite is a punishment, every taste a reflection of your weakness."
I made him swallow by keeping his mouth shut with my fingers, forcing him to gulp down the slimy paste. The pieces of salad mixed with the warm vomit and the horrid smell surely burned his nostrils.
"You can't run,"
I said, grabbing another handful of vomit and crushed salad.
"Look closely at what you've made me do. Look and accept your punishment."
I took the food, shoving it into his mouth and pressing it against his palate. His mouth was filled with the disgusting substance, and he had no choice but to keep it there despite the atrocious taste and slimy texture. I could hear the muffled sounds of his disgust, the noises from his throat trying to swallow the liquid.
"Continue, Lysandros,"
I insisted with more force, my fingers pressing deeper into his mouth.
"You're not done. You must swallow it all, every bit."
I took another handful of the mixture, more vomit than salad this time, and shoved it into his mouth, forcing the slimy pieces and putrid liquid to mix with what he had already ingested.
"Eat, Lysandros, or I'll make this task even harder for you. I don't want your weakness here. I want you to accept your defeat, to submit to me."
His face contorted in suffering, his eyes filled with tears as he tried to contain the mixture of flowers and vomit. He mumbled incoherent pleas, but his voice was muffled by the mixture he was forced to swallow.
"Please... stop... I can't..."
His voice was a desperate whimper, but it didn't stop me.
Halfway through, he started vomiting again, warm jets of vomit splattering his own body, forcing me to start his torture from the beginning. The acidic liquid mixed with the rest of the vomit, creating an even more viscous and disgusting substance. I plunged my hands into this new wave of filth, the thick, slippery paste between my fingers.
"Oh Lysandros, can't you hold it in? I'll have to start all over again, which is unfortunate for you, I imagine."
I grabbed another handful of the new liquid, but Lysandros decided to bite me.
"Do you see what you're doing, Octavius?"
I said, grabbing another handful and forcing the new mass of vomit into his mouth.
"Each gulp is an act of your own defeat. You must swallow everything, every drop, every piece."
His eyes were brimming with tears, his face pale with disgust and pain, but he had to keep eating to avoid even worse torture.
I grabbed another handful, the viscous mixture flowing between my fingers like a living substance, and spread it again over his lips.
"Don't make me repeat myself, Octavius. There's nothing left for you to do but swallow everything."
I kept forcing him, his whimpers growing weaker, his eyes closing in an expression of total defeat.
"You see, my little Lysandros?"
I said with satisfaction.
"You were so sure of yourself, so full of your own strength. Look at what you are now, forced to re-eat your own disgust, to endure each moment as a lesson in your weakness."
Finally, after several minutes of effort, Lysandros finished swallowing everything, his body trembling from terror.
"Good, Octav'. You're done."
I let out a sigh of satisfaction before continuing,
"You see what you made me do? You're responsible for all of this. Every drop, every piece was a choice you made. Now you must face the consequences."
He swallowed the last drop of the mixture and stared at me with a deathly gaze.
"There. It's over for now."
I stepped back slightly, observing the spectacle of his suffering with bitter satisfaction. His face was covered in tears and food. I straightened up, my gaze still fixed on him, savoring every moment of his suffering.
"Rest now, Lysandros. We still have a lot of work to do."
Just before closing the door, I turned one last time, my face hard and unyielding.
"You must understand, Lysandros. I will not tolerate you making Ume suffer anymore. Yes, I won't tolerate her suffering because of you. She deserves better, and I will make sure she gets what she deserves, even if it means breaking you entirely."
I closed the door with a sharp click, leaving Lysandros in his miserable state, each word resonating like a condemnation in the dark and silent room.
☆*: .｡.Octavius Lysandros. .｡: *☆
-U…U...UME ? UME UME UME UME UME UME UME ! YOU ARE DEAD!-
To be continued…
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BONUS
The Aurorella
The Aurorella is a rare and precious flower, emblematic of the regions most exposed to the first rays of sunlight in Alamyste. This radiant plant is adorned with iridescent petals that capture the dawn light, sparkling like natural jewels. The inhabitants of Alamyste know that these delicate flowers must be harvested at the precise moment the sun rises, for it is then that they unfold their full flavor and unique properties.
The Aurorella plays a central role in the region's cuisine, particularly in the preparation of the famous Auratrian salad, a refined and sought-after dish. However, this flower must be handled with great care. If consumed in excessive amounts or improperly prepared, the Aurorella becomes extremely toxic. Its effects can lead to intense hallucinations, giving those who overindulge the impression that they can fly and touch the sky.
Local legends tell that the first explorers of Alamyste discovered these effects by accident, initially unaware of the necessary precautions in harvesting and preparing the Aurorella. It is only through the experience and wisdom passed down from generation to generation that the inhabitants have learned to respect this enigmatic flower, making it a precious yet potentially formidable ingredient.