Ironically, having gone once before, I’d somehow picked up a bit of a knack for it, so bringing medicine back this time was easier.
I already knew where the apothecary was. Partly because I had been sick so often as a child, but also because our family often dealt with herbs and monsters, so the place had always been stocked with all kinds of medicine.
I wanted to bring him the very best. But I couldn’t. The Marquis might return at any time, and besides, all the medicines looked alike. So I simply chose one I recognized and made my way back.
This is too hard. There’s not a single part of me that doesn’t hurt.
Even if I had gotten used to it, that didn’t make it easy. My legs shook so badly I thought I might collapse, my mouth tasted bitter and dry, and sweat drenched me from head to toe. The moment I emerged from the passage I felt I might collapse outright—but I pushed on, trudging to Zachary.
“…”
Saying I’m back felt ridiculous. I made my footsteps loud on purpose so he’d know I was coming, but Zachary remained exactly as before, not moving a muscle.
He didn’t speak, either. Before I’d left this room, he had spoken—said he was in pain, begged me to save him. But now, it was as though I had imagined it. All was silent.
I brought medicine.
I had brought soft, easy-to-swallow pills, along with water. But I had no idea how to give them to him. After a long hesitation, I steeled myself and moved closer.
Up close, he still didn’t move. His eyes were glazed, staring at nothing. How was I supposed to feed medicine to someone like this?
If I put it in his mouth, will he swallow?
I reached carefully, bringing the pill to his lips—when suddenly, those dazed eyes locked straight onto mine.
The next instant, he thrashed violently.
“U-uh, ugh—!”
The convulsions were so wild, I wondered how he’d been sitting still at all until now. His whole body shook, his limbs spasmed, and I was so shocked I could hardly breathe.
For a moment, I froze, terrified he might lash out and harm me. But watching closely, I realized—he wasn’t trying to hurt me. He looked terrified, panicked beyond reason.
That was when I understood: he had been conditioned into a terror so absolute that even the approach of another person made him tremble.
To me, the Marquis isn’t a bad person…
But maybe he really was.
For reasons I didn’t know, the Marquis seemed to truly love my mother, and because of that, he had sought my favor as well. He was like a second father, always trying to give me everything, and I had grown attached in my own way.
But the same Marquis who had been so kind and gentle—had, even if “for work,” reduced this child to such a state.
Watching Zachary thrash, my chest grew unbearably heavy, and I pressed my lips tight together.
He was thinner than when I had first seen him.
Whatever he had endured must have been so harsh, so merciless, that his small body looked smaller still. The hollows beneath his eyes made him look older than his years, and those midnight-blue eyes that should have been full of fire were instead drowned in fear.
What should I do?
How should I act, so that he wouldn’t be terrified of me?
After a moment’s thought, I decided to start with his gaze. Slowly, I sank to my knees before him, deliberately positioning myself lower, looking up at him.
“…”
The instant I shifted from half-looking down on him to looking up from below, I felt his body freeze.
In the silence, his eyes rolled toward me, catching me in their line of sight. They were steadier than before, though remnants of fear still lingered. His body still trembled.
I waited.
In my head, voices screamed—this is wasting time, the Marquis could return any moment, how can you sit here so calmly—but this was all I could do.
After a few minutes, Zachary’s trembling subsided.
As it did, I slowly extended a hand, resting it on his knee. He flinched, but unlike before, he didn’t thrash.
Only then did I find the courage to speak.
“Hello.”
That was my first greeting to the protagonist of this novel.
I hadn’t expected our meeting to be grand, but still, this was far too pitiful.
Here I was, meeting the main character of the world—and the setting was nothing but a ghastly torture chamber, our appearances both a wreck.
I thought to add something to lighten the mood, but gave up. Casual greetings of “nice to meet you” were out of place here, too hollow to utter.
“We’ve met before.”
That simple acknowledgment of familiarity was the best I could manage.
After all, he was the protagonist, a sharp child. He might remember me fainting beside the Marquis at our first meeting. Maybe that was why, even now, his instincts recoiled from me.
At least he didn’t react as violently as before. That gave me courage. Slowly, I patted his knee.
His eyes fixed on me, wary. The coldness of his skin startled me—it was like ice, such a contrast to my fever-warm hands—but I didn’t show it.
“I’m not here to hurt you.”
I met his gaze with the gentlest expression I could muster, praying my lack of malice would somehow reach him.
But then I lost my words entirely.
His eyes—clearer than I expected.
Not dull, not clouded. Awake, alert, staring into me. Even on that battered face, they shone brightly, as if to declare his existence.
Looking into those deep blue eyes, I felt it in my skin: Zachary Thaddeus was not just some protagonist in a book. He was alive.
How much must it have taken to dim eyes like those, until he drenched the world in blood?
It was impossible to imagine this boy turning cruel, and at the same time, I didn’t want to see it happen. No matter my own powerlessness, I wanted to get him out of here.
“…”
But despite my wish, Zachary stayed rigid with fear. Even shackled, even uncomfortable, he shrank back as far as possible, desperate not to touch me. The sight only made my chest ache.
How horribly must he have suffered…
Even now, he shifted his knees back, trying to edge away from my hand. I couldn’t help but give a wry smile.
Of course he remembered. If he recalled seeing me beside the Marquis, how could he not despise me?
“I brought painkillers, since you said you hurt.”
I mustn’t do anything to provoke him.
I quickly pulled my hand back from his knee.
He flinched again, glancing at my hand. I pretended not to notice, carefully pulling the medicine from my pocket. Peeling away the paper wrapping layer by layer, I showed him the small round pill.
“It’ll hurt a little less if you take this.”
His gaze flicked toward it.
“Truthfully, I’d rather apply medicine to your wounds, but… I don’t think I can. The Marquis would notice.”
I spoke quietly, slowly, carefully. Like offering food to a wild animal. I inched the pill toward his lips.
Through it all, Zachary tilted his chin high, squeezing his eyes shut, lips pressed tight, refusing to look at me.
“See.”
Fine.
I pulled back and sat on the floor with a thump. He peeked at me through slitted eyes. My trousers stained with filth, but they were black, so what did it matter. Sitting cross-legged, I snapped the pill in half, then into quarters, and popped one piece into my own mouth.
After all the effort to bring it here, it ended up in my stomach. The bitter taste exploded across my tongue, gagging me, but I forced it down and snapped my head up.
Zachary’s eyes, which had been peeking at me half-shut, widened round.
That gaze asked without words: What on earth are you doing?
In that bewildered expression, he suddenly looked like nothing more than a child.
“Ah.”
I opened my mouth wide, then turned my head side to side to show it was empty. Then I stood and approached him again.
“I won’t force you. It’s your choice.”
Whether he took it or not, that was his decision.
“But… I’d like it if you did.”