Chapter 4

Crimson, inflamed protrusions covered my skin, a terrifying view that caused Seraphina to shrink back in horror.

"What's happened to her complexion? It's revolting!" she cried, retreating as if my affliction might spread.

Victor's eyes finally fell on me, his expression shifting from bewilderment to sheer terror. In a flash, he donned his attire and lifted me into his embrace.

"Elysia, you'll be alright," he said, his voice quivering with urgency. "I'm taking you to the mystic healer immediately."

I regained consciousness after three days. Though weak, the sight of Victor beside my bed startled me more than my frail condition. His complexion was ashen, his eyes ringed with weariness, and the relief on his face was unmistakably sincere.

"Elysia!" he cried, his voice breaking. "I was terrified! If you hadn't awakened, I would've... I would've followed you!"

His shaking hands grasped mine as if fearing I might vanish once more.

Maxine entered carrying a tray, speaking softly. "Miss, Lord Vic truly cares for you. He's spent three days and nights transcribing holy texts with blood and ink, praying for your recovery."

Victor nodded eagerly. "I'd do anything for Elysia's well-being!"

He took the medicine bowl from Maxine and carefully brought it to my mouth, feeding me bit by bit. The bitter flavor lingered, but worse was the recollection that hit me as he used my handkerchief to wipe my lips.

The very handkerchief they had used.

A surge of sickness rose, and I couldn't contain it. I retched the medicine onto Victor, my insides churning with fury and repugnance.

Victor, typically fastidious, didn't even flinch. Instead, he leaned in, his voice filled with worry. "Elysia, where's the pain? Tell me!"

I motioned feebly. "It's stifling in here... I need some fresh air."

He promptly helped me up, his movements tender. As I stepped out, he hurried after me with the cloak he had crafted.

"Elysia, you shouldn't go out uncovered. The chill might harm you."

The sight of the cloak—now spotless—only intensified my revulsion. I recoiled as he attempted to wrap it around me.

"Please," he urged gently. "Even if you're cross with me, don't risk your health. Put it on."

I grabbed the cloak from him and flung it down, trampling it with all my might.

Victor paled as understanding dawned. His lips quivered as he whispered, "Elysia... why... why would you do this?"

I met his gaze, my hands shaking with pent-up anger. "I won't touch filthy things."

His body went rigid as if struck.

"Victor," I said, my tone icy and unyielding, "you're tainted too. I want nothing more to do with you."

Victor, the Lord, fell to his knees before me, disregarding his status or authority, his usual proud demeanor shattered.

"Elysia, what have I done wrong? Tell me... I can't bear your indifference!" His voice trembled, heavy with guilt and remorse.

He appeared so broken, so vulnerable in that moment. "It must be my fault you're unhappy," he continued, his voice cracking. "I'll punish myself. Will that appease you?"

Swiftly, he struck himself across the face. His skin instantly reddened and swelled, a visible mark of his self-inflicted anguish. The sight twisted something within me. He was truly suffering, but it wasn't sufficient.

I gestured weakly, wanting to escape, to breathe.

"I want to visit the shore," I said, my voice barely audible.

Victor's face drained of color, his eyes wide with fear. "Elysia, are you going to abandon me?"

His voice broke, his desperation evident. "Why? What have I done wrong? I'll change! Please, don't leave me!"

Without hesitation, in his agony, he summoned lightning from the sky. The bolts left his back bloodied, yet he endured the torment, crawling towards me.

"Elysia, are you placated now?" he asked, his voice barely discernible over his own suffering.

A memory surfaced: his proposal by the sea, his vows of eternal love. The words echoed in my mind, but they felt distant now, empty.

"Elysia, is it worth it?" my mother had inquired, her eyes filled with worry. "If he changes his mind later, will you regret your actions today?"

Her words rang true. He had changed his mind. And now, witnessing his tears, his pleas, left me feeling apathetic, detached.

He had fallen for another, and yet, here he was, pretending, begging, as if nothing had changed.

"I just want to visit the beach to unwind," I murmured, the weight of the past decade bearing down on me. "I haven't seen the ocean in ten thousand years."

Victor, despite his bloodied state, smiled through the pain. "Elysia, you're homesick. I'll take you to see the sea now."

As we stood before the vast blue expanse, a faint whirlpool swirled in the depths, like the eye of a glacier about to widen. I felt a pull, a link to something ancient and untouchable.

Victor, ever attentive, gathered small, vibrant shells from the sand. He carefully strung them together and placed them around my neck, his touch gentle despite the turmoil surrounding us.