A Fairy Tales for the Villains - Chapter 22

Of course, to no one’s surprise, the physician did not come. But fortunately, our meals weren’t cut out. A first aid kit arrived with a new food cart the very next day after the whole commotion. Inside the box were a thermometer, ointment, a bottle of painkillers, and some bandages.

‘Do you think that these few things can cure your niece’s terrible fever? Do you really think so?’  Estelle’s body temperature fluctuated around 40 degrees. As she was having a hard time breathing, my heart felt like burning whenever I fed her with liquid food boiled after the leftovers mixed with some painkillers.

‘What if she goes like this? I’ve already lost too many precious people, what would I do if even Estelle goes away forever?’  Such fear seemed to devour my soul little by little. I clung to the bedside all day, humming the lullaby my mother used to sing while she was alive and whispering all of Estelle’s favorite stories. Snow White and Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella and Rapunzel. Rapunzel, in particular, was the most repeated story. They were all stories with happy endings. Although in reality, no prince would come to our rescue after defeating the greedy devil king.

The fever did not spread, but as time passed, we all looked equally sick and miserable. Me, Lettis, and Venya, we all endured day by day with dark circles under our eyes and pale complexions. We couldn’t take our eyes off Estelle for even a moment, so we ate together in the bedroom, and even fanned each other to endure the hellish heat of the summer. It was only after a fortnight that Estelle’s fever began to drop after all the efforts. The problem was that it kept going up and down. I started to wonder if the thermometer was broken or if it was purely a whim of fate, but her body temperature would return to normal but the next morning it would soar again without fail.

It was a brutal summer indeed. It wasn’t until the last days of summer, when Venya’s birthday was close, and fall was just around the corner, that Estelle was able to get out of bed. With the worst aftereffects. My little sister, my breast sister, who was always small and delicate as a glass doll, had lost her former fragile and lovely appearance. She now looked like a dry stick that could be broken at any time, and her movements were awkward and close to a broken marionette. All the baby fat was gone, and the big, sky-blue eyes that were hollowed out on a face that was as dry as a skull no longer shed the same light as before.

Those eyes that seemed to dance in the air, full of hopes and dreams for a future– 

Those eyes that used to twinkle daydreaming for a brighter life even in the most terrible of situations never returned.

*      *      *

–Lavender is green, lavender is blue. If you love me I will love you…~

I heard a lullaby.  ‘Who is singing? Oh, it’s my mother’s voice. It’s mom. Mom…’

–I like to dance. I like to sing. When I become queen, you will be my king~

‘It smells like soot. Did I forget to turn off the stove and fall asleep again?’

–It’s okay, Sasha.

A soft, sweet voice.  ‘I think it smells too…’  I tried to wake up to the thought of taking off the stove, but my mother’s scent covered me whole.

–It’s really okay. If you want to sleep, sleep more…

‘Really? My mom always said that I shouldn’t be laying around all day. She used to say ‘the better people treat you, the more diligent you have to be.’ But you know… I’m exhausted… So like this…’

“Sasha.” 

The hand that grabbed my shoulder and shook me so suddenly returned my half-sleeping soul. I let out a short groan and raised my upper body.

“What–”

“Shh.”

In the dark bedroom without a single ray of moonlight, sky-blue eyes shone eerily. It looked quite unusual, so I reflexively turned to my side. Our Estelle was deeply asleep with her head buried in the pillow and breathing evenly.

Venya took his finger from my lips and motioned quietly to follow him. I cautiously got out of bed and followed him. All the way down the narrow stairs, his hand was holding mine tightly. My heart started to pound rapidly at the slight tremor that came from that warm hand leading me into the darkness. 

‘What the hell is going on? What’s wrong with Venya?’

“–sound. You must not make any sound.”

Venya led me in front of the bathroom door downstairs. I nodded my head recklessly at his soft whisper as he grabbed the doorknob with his other hand.

I would never be able to say I was ready for what awaited me. 

I wasn’t really mentally prepared, so, despite my strong resolve, as soon as the door opened, I almost screamed my lungs out. It was terrifying to imagine what Estelle would have done if she had woken up upon hearing my scream. It wasn’t even in my worst nightmares seeing her witnessing such a scene.

A low-pitched groan escaped between the two hands which quickly covered my mouth.

“Oppa–!!”

Inside the bathtub, Lettis was lying, still in his pajamas. One arm protruding from the edge was a mess as if he had tried to cut his wrist, and scissors dropped on the bathroom floor, dripping with blood.

*      *      * 

The scissors’ blades we had were so dull that it was difficult to cut our hair. It was thanks to this that Lettis’ suicide attempt failed. Although the wound was quite severe and would leave a scar, fortunately, it did not appear to be life-threatening as he didn’t reach the artery.

While Venya pulled Lettis out of the bathtub and laid him on the bed, I went for the first-aid box. I couldn’t really think anything as I wiped the bloody cut from the scissors with sterilizer and wrapped bandages on his wrist. My brain had literally left my head. 

Lettis woke up after a while. When he finally regained consciousness, both Venya and I were just sitting at the bedside, staring blankly at his face. 

It was Venya who moved first. He immediately jumped up from his seat, then raised his hand and- SLAP! Without hesitation, he slapped his older brother with all his might! The sound was so loud that I was worried that Estelle might wake up because of it.

“Venya…!”

In contrast to my half-scream, Lettis, who was beaten violently by his younger brother as soon as he regained consciousness, was simply dazed with a bewildered expression on his face. Venya gripped him from his collar roughly.

“I’m truly fed up, bro. I think I’m going insane.”

“…”

“Do you want me to treat you like a baby? And all that while keeping an eye on you so you don’t die?”

Lettis said nothing. He gradually grasped the situation, understanding how things turned out, and his dazed eyes slowly regained focus, having a disastrous light on them. Then he immediately lowered his head.

“…Sorry.”

“If you really want to die, just jump out of the window next time. Got it? Because I don’t want to add a rotting corpse’s stench inside this rat hole.”

Lettis just shrugged at Venya’s cold words suppressing all his flaring wrath. 

Of course, he wouldn’t follow his brother’s advice and try a second suicide attempt. Another evidence of the time still passing by aside from the end of each season felt with our sixth senses, was the growth of our bodies. Lettis and Venya could no longer go through the small window to see Mr. Gargoyle. They were just too big for the poor window now.

I took out the painkillers left in the emergency box and handed them to Lettis along with a glass of water. I wanted to say something, but no words came out. There was no other way to express my feelings than feeling miserable, angry, and sad. 

‘Oh my gosh! Why did you do that? ‘ There were many reasons. Too many. None of us ever said it out loud, but we always had in mind the possibility that we would die here one way or another. The traitors had already taken control of the manor, and they could starve us to death at any time they wished. Or they could simply poison our meals.  

Nevertheless, we continued to live, and the items that allowed us to keep living with a minimum of human dignity were sent, albeit poorly. That fact created a sense of hope that stayed in our unconscious without us realizing it. Although it shattered with the summer.

With that cruel summer, it became absolutely clear. It was a fact: no one cared whether the siblings died here or not. Even Viscount Ipolit. 

That’s right. Even Viscount Ipolit has

changed. Well, he might be a bit sorry. But the gain in doing such a thing is greater and sweeter than the guilt of forsaking his own nephews and niece… Sending meals every day without stopping is probably just a way to comfort yourself that you did your best. If we were to die in this place, you would be so relieved but then even shed a few tears of pity…