The heavy sound of rain pounding on the roof of the old house creates a sound that should have been calming, yet, inside one of the rooms, the atmosphere felt silent and full of mystery.
A pair of ruby eyes finally managed to open when its owner woke up from her unconsciousness for who knows how long. Her body felt heavy, her breath was still short, and her head was throbbing sharply, as if hit by a wave of terrible memories.
'I am … still alive?' Mumbling to herself.
The image of her execution filled her mind again. The burning red sky, the blood colored full moon, the rain of arrows falling like a storm, the limbs and organs surrounding the land, and a mysterious figure that can stop the arrows with a snap of his finger.
However, the most painful thing was the memory of her brother–Vincent, who had his head pierced by an arrow and died in front of her. The pain hit her heart more sharply than the physical wounds she had suffered.
'Aren't I supposed to die there? On top of that gallows … how can I wake up here?'
Claire tried to remember what had happened. She scrutinized each item with a squint as she scanned the room around with her blurry eyes.
This was not the Duke's residence and it was definitely not the prison or her execution site. The old wooden walls covered in dust, the cold floor have their nails sticking out, and the sound of rain outside the window gave a gloomy and unfamiliar impression. This place felt far from all the luxuries she once had.
A soft voice suddenly broke the silence.
"Ah, you're finally awake."
Claire gasped. In the corner of the room stood a young woman. She was dressed in a simple white shirt tucked into a dark brown skirt, her blonde hair tied back with a white ribbon.
Her soft expression and hazel eyes were looking at Claire with an unusual warmth, one that Claire herself felt unfamiliar with having lived inside the cold mansion for so long.
Claire tried to speak, but her throat was dry and her words were stuck inside her throat. Ah, how long had she not eaten or drunk that her throat had become this sore?
The woman seemed to understand and without hesitation carefully took a glass of water. With light steps, she approached and offered the glass with a sincere smile.
"Have a drink. My name is Sylvester Sharon, you can call me Sharon," Her soft angel-like voice slowly calmed Claire's raging mind.
Claire took the glass with trembling hands and slowly took a sip. The water soothes the dryness in her throat, but it did not stop the flow of questions in her mind.
'Sharon who? Why is she here? How can I fall asleep here anyway?'
Sharon sat on the chair near the bed, a small smile still on her face as she looked at Claire. A moment of silence enveloped them, only the sound of the rain outside accompanying them in the room. Claire finally managed to open her mouth to ask, yet Sharon spoke first.
"You are in an abandoned cottage in the middle of a forest," She said, trying to calm Claire. "Please excuse the cottage condition, it might not be up to your taste but it has been cleaned … a bit."
Claire looked around. Indeed, the house was full of dust and far from the comfort she was used to in the Duchy. But more importantly, why was she here? Who brought her here?
"It's okay."
Claire finally managed to say a sentence in a hoarse voice. But her mind was still stuck on the tragedy in the square where her execution was held.
The red sky, the rain of arrows, the red full moon, her brother's eyeballs rolling to her feets while his body was covered in wounds on the ground. Claire's face hardened, her heart shackled by fear and loss. Even though she had been worried, tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of the possibility that Vincent was dead.
Sharon seemed to notice the change in Claire's face and gently touched her arm.
"Hey, I don't know what happened, I found you unconscious in the forest not far from here," She said, pausing to take a breath. "You were lying there, as if you were being dragged by someone, judging from the trails."
Claire was shocked to hear Sharon's explanation.
"Dragged?" She mumbled.
Who dragged her off from the execution board? Was it the mysterious smiling man, no way. No clues came to mind.
Sharon looked at Claire with a serious look. "If you need help, I can help you," Her voice filled with warmth and sincerity.
Claire looked at her in confusion and suspiciousness. The woman had just met her, but it was as if she was already determined to help for no apparent reason. Before Claire could respond to Sharon's words, Sharon continued her unfinished sentence.
"Ah! It's okay! I want to help you because we are both women, I can't let you walk in the woods by yourself, not in this weather at least."
Sharon waved her hand in panic as if she knew what was on Claire's mind. Then she continued, "When I found you in the woods, you looked like you would die at any time…"
The ruby eyed woman was stunned at her words.
'What Sha– wait, what is her name again? Sharon? Did she think I was a victim of some crime?'
For a while, she felt like she needed to explain that she is not your regular victim, yet a prisoner who was supposed to be executed. But the words got stuck in her throat.
'What use does it have to tell all of that now?'
"I … I don't know what to say," Claire mumbled slowly, confused to Sharon's helping hand.
Sharon smiled again, bringing a sense of calm with her soft expression as her lips curled upwards.
"It's okay, you don't need to explain anything. What's more important at the moment is to make sure you recover."
From the beginning, Sharon spoke to her casually. Claire didn't know whether Sharon knew she was a noble or whether Sharon was a noble too from the way she spoke casually to Claire.
Claire just nodded her head. Her mind was filled with everything that happened this afternoon, and now she was in a strange cottage with someone she just met.
Turning her head to the side again, the smile on Claire's face had disappeared since she remembered the fact that no one was on her side.
'What if Sharon realized that I was accused of being a rebel by the Crown Prince?'
Sharon seemed to understand that Claire was still hesitant to open up completely, so she continued the conversation slower, keeping Claire's distrustfulness at bay.
"This cottage actually isn't mine," She said while looking around the room. "This house was owned by a man who helped me in the past, he's also the one that brought you here. That man was often away, so for some time, I volunteered to take care of this cottage."
"A man?" Claire repeated, even more confused now.
Sharon smiled, as if understanding Claire's confusion. "Yes, he is a kind man, although a bit mysterious–" She giggled. "–He rarely comes back, yet somehow he was always there whenever something happened, including the time you were in danger."
Claire frowned. 'Who is that man? Why would he help me?'
Tons of questions were spinning in her head, and Claire felt too tired to look for answers right now.
"I still don't understand," Her weak voice mumbled. His body felt heavy again and his head started to spin. He tried to get up from the bed, but his legs were weak and he almost fell.
Sharon immediately came over and helped him lie back down. "You have not recovered yet. Please don't push yourself. Rest on your back, that way you will feel a lot better."
Claire wanted to argue, but her body refused. Exhaustion and confusion finally took over her. In the end, she surrendered to her exhaustion and lay down on the bed.
Sharon patted her hand gently.
"No need to return anything. You just need to recover and we will go through this together, little by little."
The sweet smile was still plastered on Sharon's lips. She continued her words, "Well… I didn't get your name yet?"
Claire immediately widened her eyes. True enough, she hadn't introduced herself ever since she opened my eyes in this cottage.
"Ah, I'm sorry. My name is Claire Waltz."
The daughter of Duke Waltz who for some reason felt like she was the only survivor of her family. But, was it true that her family had died after the incident earlier?