The sound of blunt footsteps came from behind the torture chamber door. However, the time was too short for the two soldiers to have finished eating.
At that, Sally stopped and hurried to the bed. As she pulled off one side of the duvet stained with blood, the door swung open.
"…Sally Bristol, what are you doing here?"
A voice that was as slow and soft as feathers fell sharply in her spine.
…Why did Captain Winston return now, of all time?
Sally took the loosely removed duvet in her arms and looked back slowly. A young private was holding the wide-open door in a rigid posture.
A man with a light gray trench coat over his shoulders walked in between them without hesitation. Under the fluttering coat, a black officer's uniform was hung straight, as if decorated with colorful medals.
Every time the medals were added one by one, she got sick of it. Because the stench of blood seemed to vibrate from the medal.
"Hello, Captain. I was giving lunch to the guests and packing up the laundry."
She mixed a little bit of a curious look on her innocent face as though she didn't know anything.
"You alone?"
"Yeah. Aunt Ethel quit a month ago…"
"Ha…"
Although Winston raised his lips softly and let out a low laugh, his ice-cold eyes were not smiling at all.
Facing him like that, Sally also had the urge to moisten her parched lips, but she resisted. It was because the other person would notice that she was nervous.
Has he not noticed already? There are many excuses to give if you ask me what kind of conversation we had…
As she rushed to plan all sorts of things inside her, she tilted her head, blinking her eyes and pretending to be puzzled on the outside.
Winston stood between the man at the table and her.
Sally felt a sense of intimidation as if she was facing a wall because of his large height and body.
He stared down at the man who had already begun shaking his hands for a moment with cold eyes and then took off his sharp look. His outstretched fingers that were as sharp as his eyes neatly swept over the blonde hair.
"I know that, Sally. You know that's not what I mean."
He pressed Sally lightly with a tone that seemed to appeal to a lover before suddenly turning around. The tip of a riding whip in his hand, clad in black leather gloves, pointed to the second lieutenant, who looked like his lieutenant.
"Campbell, get the men guarding the door right now."
A terrifyingly low voice.
At that moment, in Sally's head, the hallucination of that whip slashing through the air and tearing her flesh rang out.
She was standing like a prisoner against a wall with the duvet in her arms.
As Winston waited for the men, he glanced around as if seeing the torture chamber for the first time. Her spine shuddered as he lifted the chain hanging from Sally's side and put it playfully in front of her neck.
…If only she brought 'it' though she didn't…
"Captain, I have brought him."
Sally sighed inside. She didn't know whether she was relieved or frustrated.
The lips of the two soldiers glistened with grease as though they had been dragged in the midst of a meal. The Corporal took a salute position with a tense face. Meanwhile, the hand on his forehead was trembling slightly.
"Captain, did you call?"
"Right, why did I call you? Guess."
Uttering lightly as if he was treating a friend, but no one took the situation lightly.
The Corporal's eyes darted around the torture chamber with anxious eyes. What did he do wrong…? The answer must be in this room.
The moment he saw the maid who was standing on the wall, one step away from the Captain, he found the answer.
She said she'll come in and out quickly, so why is she still here?
He chewed the swear words to himself.
"You, you told me not to let the maid in alone."
"Correct."
Winston's eyebrows curled loosely, but the tension in the torture chamber only grew tighter.
Swish. Swish.
The whip in his right hand sharply cut through the chilly air and lightly struck his left palm. Each time, the two soldiers trembled as if they had been hit.
"You have ears to listen to my instructions, though you don't seem to understand because you don't have a brain?"
"No, no—"
"Then, let me tell you why I told you not to let my Miss Sally Bristol in alone."
Sally's stomach churned.
Why did she become 'Miss Sally Bristol'…? It wasn't just because of the overly gentlemanly title or an overly rude name.
The next moment, Winston came closer to her side and even grabbed her shoulder. From the place his hand touched to the waist of her back, her hairs stood upright. If it was another maid, how would they act…?
Sally rolled her head quickly, biting her lower lip and placing a cold hand on one of her cheeks.
I hope that pretending to be shy works.
She pretended not to see Private Fred Smith's agitated eyes.
"That bastard…"
The Corporal glanced at the man, who had hardened like a piece of wood in front of the table on the other side of the room, and looked again at the Captain politely.
"…He said he might go into heat and could attack Sally."
Sally? In heat…? He didn't even have the strength to lift a spoon—
Besides, Sally was a dull woman. Even though she looked pretty, she had no corners to arouse the lustful curiosity of a man. So therefore, the reason didn't make sense.
Nonetheless, if the superior said so, it could not be helped.
"Sally, did you hear that?"
Winston finally took his hand from Sally's shoulder. Though just as he was about to relax, his fingertips lifted the tip of her chin.
"This place is dangerous for a feeble lady."
"…Yes, I will be careful."
Although she gave the answer he wanted right away, but he didn't let go of her chin. He tilted her head at an angle as if kissing, as he gazed down at Sally.
'You are more dangerous to me.'
This time she had to wet her parched lips.
As the tip of her tongue brushed against her lower lip, Winston wrinkled his brow slightly and pulled his hand from the tip of her chin.
"Did you guys hear it, too?"
He approached the soldiers who broke the rules.
"This place. Is dangerous. For feeble Sally."
Every time he paused his words, the angular tips on the tip of the slender and flexible riding-whip pierced the soldiers' stomach.
His voice gradually grew as fierce as the roar of an angry lion.
A cold sweat ran down Sally's back. She was friends with Fred's third older sister. Besides, she had been watching him since he was a baby, so she was scared that Fred, like a real younger brother, would be severely punished.
Sally bowed her head.
Soon, her shoulders trembled as she curled up like a frightened rabbit as tears fell from her big eyes.
"I'm, I'm sorry… It's because I came in. So, I will take the punishment for them, Captain."
Quietly, she grabbed the hem of his trench coat and shook it.
"A man becomes a fool when a woman cries."
That was what her mother said.
However, she said that it doesn't work if she uses it too often, so she told her to do it in moderation.
Was he a man who couldn't help but pay attention? Winston stopped the whip that had stabbed Fred in the chest, and he walked over to Sally.
"Sally, you don't have to do this again. Huh? got it?"
Sniff.
"Y-yes…"
She tried to wipe away the false tears with her sleeve, but he stopped them. Winston's hand wrapped around her chin. Shortly, the straight-folded handkerchief gently pressed each tear print to dry it.
Everyone's eyes widened at the not cold-blooded behavior. Their eyes widened with surprise as he stared down at the handkerchief drenched with the maid's tears for a moment and then put it in the pocket of his jacket.
He was the one who threw the handkerchief on the floor once he had used it. Whereas this, was nothing else but a handkerchief soaked in bodily fluids of a lowly maid.
"Leave the meal outside from now on."
"Yes, I will…"
It was a moment when Sally was able to let her guard down with a voice that was as friendly as if teasing a child. Winston's hand resting on her chin stopped in mid-air before he picked up the thumb of her left hand. His soft eyes set sharp in an instant.
Sally's blood became cold as she followed his gaze.
…A small piece of eggshell stuck under her fingernail.
He grinned at the pile of eggshells neatly laid out in front of the spy. His eyes were not smiling at all.
Winston's close-cut fingernails dug under hers. The nails that had entered deep as if they were going to dig through her flesh were brutally twisted.
Sally held back a groan from the pain that crushed her delicate flesh. It was a bad habit for her to endure even when she didn't need to because the training to endure the pain of torture was ingrained into her body.
Winston silently glanced down at the white shards adhering to the tip of his fingernails and tossed them off.
Cold words flew over her head along with the shells.
"Sally, you're so kind that it bothers me."