Mongel let go immediately, likely a reflex caused by the loud sound of the door slamming open. Amora scrambled out from under the blanket, clutching her neck and coughing violently, but her coughing was cut short by Lian's worried exclamation.
"Darling, is your cold any better?"
Lian rushed into the room and threw herself onto Amora. Her tall, muscular frame pressed against Amora, making her feel like her lungs were being squeezed out. Despite this, Amora was deeply grateful to Lian. She leaned slightly toward her, taking deep breaths of the clean, sunlit scent that Lian carried.
Lian pressed her forehead against Amora's, speaking with concern. "Your temperature's a bit low, and you're coughing so badly. Should we call a healer?"
"Thank you… really, thank you." Amora clung tightly to Lian's hand, unwilling to let go. She feared that if Lian left, she would die at Mongel's hands.
She worked to steady her breathing. Mongel's actions had been hidden under the blanket, and his close proximity had been easily misinterpreted as checking her temperature. To Lian, it likely looked like Mongel was kindly examining Amora's condition, not attempting to strangle her.
It was clear that the idea of "Mr. Mongel trying to kill Amora" would never cross Lian's mind.
Sometimes, Amora felt like she and Lian didn't live in the same household. In Lian's world, Mr. Mongel was a wise and gentle guardian, and Miss Amora was a sweet, well-behaved, and serene child. But in Amora's reality, Mongel was inhumane, cruel, and heartless, and her own life was a constant mess, far removed from the image of grace she presented.
"I can prepare medicine," Mongel said calmly, his voice steady as if nothing had happened.
"I don't need it!" Amora turned and screamed at him. "Get out! Right now!"
Mongel showed almost no reaction. He sat at the edge of the bed, his expression calm as he watched Amora, who was on the verge of breaking down. Amora didn't look at him, but she could feel his gaze. Mongel's stare had a sticky, muddy quality to it, reminding her of the vile words he had whispered into her ear.
I love you, with all my life and wisdom.
You are my goddess.
So wear my collar.
How about going to hell with me?
I'll give you everything, as long as you promise to die by my hand.
No.
Shut up.
Just disappear already.
Go to hell alone.
I will survive.
Amora felt herself trembling. The fear of death, which had been suppressed, surged up the moment she was rescued. Her desire to live was as intense as her fear of dying. Yet, she felt no shame in this fear. She understood that it was this very terror of death that made her more cautious and determined to survive.
Lian was startled by Amora's sudden outburst. She quickly stepped back, touching her ear in surprise. "Amora… what's wrong?"
"I'll take her upstairs for a checkup," Mongel said calmly to Lian. The curve of his smile was subtle, but it was enough to put Lian at ease. Mongel was an excellent apothecary; he had tended to all of Lian's injuries from childhood fights, and even her menstrual pain had been alleviated by his remedies.
"Am?" Lian gently patted Amora's head. "Alright, you must be feeling really unwell. Don't worry, Mr. Mongel can heal you."
Lian quickly attributed Amora's unusual behavior to her being sick and uncomfortable. She always saw the bright side of things. Amora's emotions gradually cooled as her breathing steadied. She didn't expect Lian to one day realize the truth—that the Mr. Mongel she respected was a devil, and Miss Amora had been living in constant suffering.
If she could, Amora would rather bear the despair alone.
Lian was fine just as she was now, living in the bustling capital, sparring and laughing with her peers while gaining knowledge. Here in the distant border town, she had a warm harbor, a trustworthy elder, and a lovable younger sister.
"Alright," Amora said with a smile to Lian. Then she turned to Mongel and added, "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you earlier. I just felt a bit of pain."
Mongel's pitch-black eyes showed no warmth as he smiled and said, "It's fine. Can you stand on your own? Let's go upstairs."
Amora's hand tightened slightly on Lian's shoulder. She cast a deep glance at Lian, who was overcome with worry and sadness, then jumped off the bed. Mongel extended a hand toward her, now wearing the white gloves he used for experiments, and smiled coldly. "Come along, Am."
Amora ultimately let go of Lian, but she didn't take Mongel's hand. She steadied herself with difficulty after getting out of bed, straightened her back, and walked toward the door. Mongel retracted his hand casually and followed behind her.
Seeing them reconcile, Lian sighed in relief. She thought to herself how hard it must have been for Mr. Mongel to raise Amora all alone. Even hiring a female servant like her—clumsy, carefree, and rough—didn't make things easier. And now, the once-quiet and obedient Amora was entering a rebellious phase, even defying her father due to illness. Mr. Mongel would surely face more challenges in the future.
Hopefully, he could find a kind and beautiful mother figure for Amora soon.
Lian watched them disappear around the staircase corner before returning to her room.
"Do you realize you almost killed me just now?" Amora waited until she heard Lian close her bedroom door before addressing Mongel, who was following behind her.
Mongel's voice returned to its usual cold, mocking tone. Though unpleasant, it was far less disturbing than his earlier slimy demeanor. "Breathing cessation doesn't immediately result in death. Even if I choked you unconscious, I could revive you."
Amora clenched the hem of her clothes tightly and quickened her pace. "So, I should thank you for your precise control?"
With his long strides, Mongel easily kept pace with her, maintaining an exact distance that made her feel suffocated. "No, there's no need. I have a certain sense of care for my property."
"…" Amora had nothing to say. Hatred grew like a wild beast inside her, clawing at her from within.
"Can you hear the voices of heaven?" Mongel asked as they reached the third floor. He impatiently grabbed her and led her toward the far end of the hall lined with laboratories.
Amora felt the familiar chill of the black jade ring Mongel always wore on his middle finger. The sharp-edged gemstone, much like its owner, was unyielding and painful when pressed against her skin. Mongel's tone was slightly elevated, and there was a hint of fanaticism in his expression. If he weren't behaving somewhat restrained, Amora would have assumed he'd gone mad again.
"You believe in gods?" Amora asked, puzzled. "I thought magisters didn't believe in the existence of deities."
Strictly speaking, Mongel wasn't a magister. He was a researcher of the magical system, not a practitioner. Amora had never seen him wear any official military-issued magical authorization insignia. Even his limited use of magic was confined to reactions purely between magical conduits.
"Don't say such foolish things. Even the Holy Empire has magical corps and sky fortresses that serve the Pope and pledge loyalty to the Church," Mongel said lightly, his tone dripping with malice. "Oh, I forgot. I've never taught you the history of the continent."
Amora fell silent once again.
Mongel had taught her advanced magical theories but never the customs or culture of the continent. He only needed Amora to assist in his experiments, not to become a scholar like himself. As she grew older, he would teach her some basic etiquette—archaic practices that only served to make her less influenced by someone like Lian, a wild child. It wasn't to cultivate her as a person but to make her more tolerable to look at.
"You still haven't answered my question."
Mongel stopped at the end of the corridor, where a large painting hung on the wall. Amora's limited sense of aesthetics didn't help her discern whether it depicted a person, a building, or something else entirely. It could have been Mongel's random brushstrokes meant to cover something up, but its strange style only made the wall seem more suspicious.
Amora responded calmly, "The voice of heaven? No, I only hear the howling of the hellhound Cerberus."
Yes, that's right, I mean you!
"Then the experiment still needs some adjustments," Mongel said, apparently oblivious to her sarcasm. He began seriously contemplating the day's experiment as the black jade ring on his finger emitted a faint cold glow. The painting split open to reveal a gaping maw, leading into a narrow tunnel connected to the third-floor secret laboratory.
If Mongel now told Amora that all his experiments were just to make her "hear the voice of heaven," she would undoubtedly knock his teeth out, and not even ten Lians could stop her.
Mongel dragged her into the tunnel despite her protests. "I can walk on my own!" she shouted angrily.
"Oh, spare me. Wasn't it you who tried to destroy the tunnel with brute force the last two times?" Mongel sneered and gave her a push. Amora stumbled forward, slamming into the experiment table.
Amora felt the test tubes on the experiment table trembling and turned around. "That's because you tried to molest me in the tunnel!"
"…" Mongel was visibly silent, his expression dark and unpleasant. "Listen, don't confuse the effects of hallucinogens with my intentions. I don't have such an insatiable sexual drive that I'd stoop to targeting a minor."
"I believe you," Amora replied blankly. "I'm sure your sense of legality is just as firm as your morality."
Mongel looked like he was about to strangle her on the spot, but he didn't. Instead, he walked over to the experiment table and steadied the vials that were teetering from her collision. Amora rubbed the spot where she had hit herself and suddenly remembered that Mongel had recently used a drug on her that delayed the healing of external injuries. This spot would probably ache for days.
Watching Mongel's busy figure, Amora was struck by a sense of fear. She realized she was starting to grow accustomed to this life—being immersed in different magical potions daily, having her body dissected in various ways to implant magical conduits. She had even grown used to slapping Mongel away when he lunged at her, before leaving the room and slamming the door behind her.
But none of this was normal. Amora believed a normal life should be like Lian's—reading books, making friends, falling in love, exploring knowledge, performing volunteer work, and one day serving the Empire.
Yet this abnormal life would continue until either Mongel's or her own life abruptly came to an end.