Trigger Warning: This chapter contains themes of debt, responsibility, and suicidal ideation. If you are struggling with mental health issues or are easily triggered, please proceed with caution.
Edward's eyes scanned the documents scattered across his desk, the numbers and figures blurring together as his mind wandered. His father's passing had left him with a mountain of debt, and despite his best efforts, he'd only managed to dig himself deeper. The weight of responsibility threatened to crush him.
He thought of the servants, their faces a blur as they went about their duties. Many of them were spies, reporting back to his family's enemies. The same enemies that probably have been trying to put an to his family. That was just a fact of his life. He paid the servants, and they did their jobs. That was all that mattered.
Edward's gaze drifted to the small, intricately carved box hidden in the secret compartment of his desk drawer. He knew what lay within - the answer to all his problems. A quick way out of the suffocating burden that had been his life since his father's death.
With a sense of resignation, Edward opened the box and retrieved the small bottle. The ivory liquid within seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. He held it up, watching as the light danced through it.
It was a cruel irony that the very thing that could bring him peace would also bring shame to his family's name. But he had made up his mind. He would not continue down this path, slowly drowning in debt and responsibility.
Edward changed into a set of worn traveler's clothes, the plain, practical garments a far cry from his usual finery. He checked his reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the stranger staring back at him.
Sunken eyes, pale skin, and greasy hair convey a person's utter exhaustion and neglect. His eyes, once bright and full of life, now appeared dull and lifeless, with dark circles underneath that seem to ache with every blink. His skin was pale and sallow, with a subtle grayish tint that suggests a lack of vitality.
The strangers posture was slouched, as if the weight of his own exhaustion is crushing him. With shoulders rolled forward and head bowed, his entire demeanor screamed of defeat. His appearance was a testament to his desperation, a haunting reminder of the devastating consequences of exhaustion and neglect.
With a deep breath, he slipped out of the manor, careful to avoid detection. He made his way through the winding streets, keeping a watchful eye out for anyone who might be following. Satisfied that he was alone, he set off into the countryside, the rolling hills and dense forests swallowing him whole.
Hours passed, the sun beating down on Edward's back as he walked. He had no particular destination in mind, only a desire to put as much distance between himself and his old life as possible.
As the day wore on, the trees grew closer together, casting deep shadows that stretched and twisted in the fading light as night time drew closer. Edward stumbled upon an abandoned cabin, the wooden boards weathered to a soft gray. It was the perfect place to end his journey.
With a sense of finality, Edward stepped inside, the creaking of the old wooden floorboards beneath his feet echoing through the stillness. He sat down on the dusty floor, the small bottle clutched in his hand, and waited for the darkness to claim him.