Though Everything Has Ended
***
The tower was perpetually cold and dark.
On the stone floor, devoid of even a hint of warmth, it was impossible to mark the passing days.
After the first few days, she no longer had the strength to cry out in anguish over the injustice of her situation.
Lying on the hard, unforgiving stone like a piece of discarded luggage, Judith forced her heavy eyelids open at the sound of distant footsteps drawing near.
It had been a year since she was abandoned here, in a place where even drinking water, let alone water to wash, was a luxury.
Her appearance has become so wretched, it was hardly bearable to look at.
“Please.
Just for a moment… There’s something I must tell her…”
She caught fragments of a conversation from beyond the heavily barred door, the hushed voices barely audible.
Moments later, a clinking of coins sounded, followed by the guard’s footsteps fading into the distance.
Judith slowly pushed herself up.
As she did, a dark shadow fell across the stone floor, but she couldn’t make out who it belonged to.
She had been trapped in this dark tower for so long, deprived of proper light, that her vision had deteriorated beyond repair.
“Who is…?”
Judith strained to speak, her voice a pathetic rasp that made her swallow and clamp her lips shut.
She heard rustling and a sigh, followed by a voice that seemed to come from a lower height, as if the speaker had crouched down to her level.
“Your Highness, it’s me.
It’s Samona.”
“Samona…?”
“Your Highness, I’ve brought some medicine.
Please, take it.”
Judith practically dragged herself across the damp stone floor towards the iron bars.
Her hands groped over the ground, but they couldn’t find the bowl of medicine that lay right in front of her.
Samona’s eyes welled up with tears as she saw Judith’s once bright azure eyes clouded and dull.
“How… how could this happen… The guard…?”
“Samona, Samona.
Don’t cry.
Because of me… Don’t cry.
How… how did you even get here?
How?
What happened to Cheraan…?”
Samona couldn’t hold back her sobs at Judith’s frantic questions.
Cheraan was Judith’s lady-in-waiting, the only daughter of Marquis Evelta, whom he cherished dearly.
While everyone else scorned Judith as a defiled woman and demanded her execution, only Cheraan stood by her side.
Her efforts had ultimately been in vain when Judith was imprisoned in the tower, but Cheraan continued to send her maid, Samona, to check on Judith’s well-being from time to time.
Lately, however, Samona hadn’t visited for a long while, and Judith was most worried about Cheraan’s safety.
“Your Highness, the young lady… she… she has passed away.
Her Majesty… executed Lady Cheraan, claiming that she was spreading slanderous rumors about His Highness Krolld.
The marquis and marchioness have been inconsolable for days now…”
Judith’s hand slipped down from the iron bar she had been desperately clutching to.
The rusty iron shards, chipped and worn, dug into her fragile skin, drawing blood, but Judith felt no pain.
“And… Your Highness.”
Samona let out a choked sob.
Judith’s vacant eyes stared at the empty space before her.
“His Highness Franz has been imprisoned.”
“What?
Wh-why?”
“There are rumors that His Highness Franz tried to assassinate His Highness Krolld.
We don’t know the truth, but judging from what people are saying, it seems likely to be true.
Perhaps His Highness Franz… maybe he did it because of what happened to His Highness Krolld…”
“That’s impossible.
He wouldn’t do that.
He couldn’t… He’s…”
“Her Majesty claims that His Highness Franz’s madness has gone too far, and she has imprisoned him in a spire deep within the Black Forest.
Your Highness…”
Samona choked back another sob, but Judith couldn’t hear her anymore.
Or perhaps, she didn’t want to.
At that moment, the guard returned, the clang of his sollerets echoing through the tower.
He roughly dragged Samona away, ignoring her pleas for a little more time.
Judith couldn’t even muster up the strength to shout at him to stop.
“Ugh… H-hurk… Ugh…”
Hunched over like a wild beast, Judith began to tremble violently.
Her fingers, blackened with grime and dirt, torn and raw from the cold wind, clawed desperately against the stone floor.
“Agh!
Aaagh, Aaa-!”
Her voice, barely a whisper before, erupted from her body in a haunting wail.
Blood spurted from her torn throat, and her hands, scraping against the floor, became mangled and bloody, yet she didn’t stop.
“What, what’s going on!
Hey!
Over here!
Get over here!
Looks like the wench finally lost it!”
Judith heard the guard stationed in front of her cell shout down the stairs.
Clutching her bleeding hands, she suddenly burst into a fit of laughter, choked with sobs.
‘It’s all over.
My life was truly insignificant.
Being trampled, slandered, and humiliated was all I was ever good at.’
“No…”
The guards, drawn to her outburst, rushed towards the cell, pausing just before unlocking it.
She raised her head.
As they looked at her, fear flickered in their eyes, a stark contrast to before.
Her hair, its original color impossible to discern, hung matted and wild, like that of a beast.
Through the tangled strands, her sightless eyes shone with an unsettling light, producing a truly chilling spectacle.
“Never…”
Judith’s lips, caked in dried blood, moved slightly.
“I will never forgive you.
No matter what I become, no matter what happens to me… I will never forgive you.”
“Wait, wait!
You bastard, open this damn door now!
If this wench dies, the queen will have all our heads…!”
There was a cracking sound, as if something had broken.
At the same time, Judith’s small body crumpled to the ground as a torrent of blood poured from her lips.
* * *
Judith frowned, her brow furrowing from the prickly sensation brushing against her cheek.
Her eyes snapped open, and a blinding light poured into her vision like a waterfall.
‘How?’
She looked around, completely bewildered.
Everything was clear.
Her eyes had long since become like those of a bat, unable to discern day from night, but now, she could see every single thing in front of her with perfect clarity.
It was an unfamiliar place.
No, it wasn’t.
Judith quickly realized where she was.
It was her room.
The very same room where she had slept and woken up every day, without fail, from her childhood until she turned seventeen, when she was still the princess of Tien.
“A dream…?” Judith murmured softly, sticking out her tongue and touching it with her hand.
Her tongue was perfectly fine, without a single scratch.
Her lips, too, were smooth, though slightly chapped.
Her hands, face, and hair were all spotless.
As soon as she realized this, she jumped out of bed and frantically searched for a mirror.
There was only one mirror in her room, and even that was always covered with cloth.
Judith ripped the silk covering off the long mirror and stared at her reflection, disbelief etched on her face.
A plain-looking girl stood before her in the mirror.
She was wearing a chemise adorned with delicate lace and embroidery, but her thin frame and pale skin made her look pitiable.
Her long, heavy bangs and her still-developing features gave her an air of melancholy.
“Your Highness, are you awake?”
Judith, frozen before the mirror, turned her head, her expression as if she had seen a ghost.
A maid, her hair neatly styled in buns, entered the room with a basin of water and a cloth.
When she noticed Judith’s expression, she was puzzled.
“Your Highness, what’s wrong?
You look…”
“Marianne?”
The maid blinked and burst into a fit of laughter.
“My princess!
You must have had a strange dream.
Yes, it’s me, Marianne.
Come here, I’ll wash your face.”
“Marianne, I…”
Judith struggled to find words, her gaze fixed on Marianne’s face, unchanged from her memories.
She had wanted to take her with her when she left the Tien Kingdom, but she was powerless then, unable to ask for anything from anyone.
So even as Marianne cried, begging to follow her, she had to leave her behind.
“Your Highness?”
“Marianne, you… you’re… how old are you now?”
Marianne, who had been setting down the silver basin, furrowed her brow slightly.
Her eyes were filled with worry.
She placed the damp cloth down and hurried over to Judith.
“Your Highness, are you alright?
Are you feeling unwell?”
“I’m fine.
I’m perfectly fine.
So, tell me.
Marianne, how old are you?”
“Your Highness, you’re being silly.
I’m sixteen, of course.
I’m one year younger than you.”
‘Marianne is sixteen.
Then, I am…’
“Your Highness?”
“How could this be…”
“What’s wrong with you?
You’re scaring me.
Are you really alright?
Should I call a healer?” Marianne asked anxiously, but she didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
Turning back to face the mirror, she stared intently at her own reflection.
The hazy memories started to return one by one, becoming vivid and clear.
She knew the girl in the mirror—a plain, weak girl, fearful of everything, prone to tears, a melancholic soul.
The moment everything ended, she had returned.
As Judith Loervinev, at the age of seventeen.