That day
The morning unfolded quite differently from usual.
“My Lady!”
The head maid had awakened unusually early, and she was horrified to find Anasta asleep in the corridor.
She began pressing her about how long she had been sleeping there, but Anasta merely pressed her lips together in silence like a guilty child.
“I beg of you, do not let this happen again. You are to be the mistress of House Soltaire, and such conduct entirely lacks propriety and—”
Anasta tuned out the head maid’s tedious scolding and pondered what she would do next.
‘If I cannot sleep in the corridor, the wardrobe is all that remains.’
‘It may be cramped, and I might have to sleep sitting up even if I squeeze myself inside, but that is far better than waging a futile struggle with Ryan in the bed.’
“My Lady, are you listening to me?”
“Of course.”
The head maid sighed in dismay, then firmly snatched away the pillow and blanket Anasta had been using.
Anasta was forced to nod in agreement when threatened with the reminder that these linens had to be laundered and that she would be provided temporary replacements.
After the head maid departed, Anasta chided herself slightly for her carelessness.
‘Had I known, I would have awakened earlier.’
After washing her face with cold water, she checked on Ryan’s quiet room.
She had not seen him properly since his seizure yesterday.
Naturally, concern weighed on her mind.
She wanted to ask if he was hurting anywhere, but she knew with certainty that his response would be harsh.
She understood his position; showing one’s pain to others was deeply humiliating.
She, too, had wished she could simply vanish whenever her parents discovered her vulnerabilities.
“My Lady, here are your fresh blanket and pillow.”
“Thank you.”
Anasta thanked the maid, who kept stealing glances at her cheeks.
“Has the Young Master awakened?”
“Not yet. He has an examination scheduled for this morning, so the butler will wake him shortly. Ah, there he comes now.”
Anasta saw the butler and the physician walk past her room.
They paused before Ryan’s door with composed expressions, then knocked as usual.
Knock, knock.
“Young Master, it is Paul.”
· · ·
“Young Master, are you still asleep?”
Anasta checked the time.
Six in the morning. This was not the hour Ryan normally woke.
“It seems best to let him rest a little longer.”
“I agree.”
As she watched the two men turn to leave, a cold draft brushed against her body.
“…It is chilly. Is a door open?”
“No, it is the middle of winter, and all the windows are shut.”
“Yet I feel a breeze coming in.”
Anasta rose from the dressing table and slowly followed the source of the air.
· · ·
Ryan’s room. The freezing wind was streaming out from there.
‘In the dead of winter, there is no way he would sleep with the window open…’
“I must open the door.”
“My Lady?”
Anasta fetched the key from the adjacent drawer and unlocked the door without hesitation.
It was not just the maid who was stunned by her sudden action; even the butler and physician, who had reached the end of the hall, widened their eyes in astonishment.
“What is the matter?”
Anasta did not stop despite the butler’s inquiry.
She pushed open the locked door and stepped inside, only to be struck by the freezing wind as the curtains whipped wildly about.
“Young Master!”
Her eyes locked directly onto Ryan, who stood motionless atop the windowsill.
His black hair whipped violently in the harsh wind, casting a shadowy veil over his gray eyes.
“Young Master.”
“…What, you again?”
Ryan looked down at her with hollow eyes.
The room was located high on the third floor.
With his body having suffered a seizure only yesterday, jumping down would mean grievous injury or certain death.
“Aaaah! Young Master!”
The maid and the head maid, having rushed into the room behind her, screamed in terror.
Even so, Ryan merely cast a cold glance at them before returning his gaze outside.
The only comforting detail was that he had to climb over the railing before he could jump from the window.
The Young Master had not crossed it yet, but he was on the verge of doing so.
“Young Master! Calm yourself, please!”
The head maid tried to intervene, but Ryan, appearing wholly resolved, gripped the railing.
“Young Master! Do not do this!”
“Stay back!”
Ryan yelled at the top of his lungs the moment they drew near.
“Take one step closer, and I will throw myself off this instant.”
“…B-But.”
‘Even if we do not approach, you intend to cast yourself down anyway.’
Everyone choked those words back in their throats.
“Y-Young Master. If something is troubling you, just tell us, and we will make it right.”
They attempted to coax him gently, but Ryan’s countenance, prepared for death, did not waver.
His face was deathly pale and drained of life, his gray eyes unfocused on anything.
Realizing that words would accomplish nothing, Anasta dashed back to her room.
Her room’s window was situated right beside Ryan’s.
‘If I step onto the narrow ledge connecting the two windows, I can stop him.’
The problem lay in the bitter winter wind and her long skirt.
Anasta cast off the cumbersome shawl and coat, then stripped away her heavy overskirt.
Wearing only her thin undergarments, she approached the window and swiftly tied back her hair.
Then, without a moment's hesitation, she vaulted over the railing blocking her path in a single sweep.
The wind bit fiercely in the depth of winter.
Bare tree branches scraped against the soles of her feet.
Anasta gritted her teeth as her hands met the frozen railing and the narrow ledge, but she did not falter.
She crept sideways step by step, stretching out her foot to tread upon the sill running between the two windows.
Surveying her surroundings, she spotted a protrusion just above her head.
She seized it with all the strength she possessed, swinging herself straight over to Ryan’s window railing.
· · ·
A flicker of life returned to Ryan’s hollow eyes when that hand suddenly appeared.
“My Lady!”
The late-arriving butler and the head maid panicked upon seeing Anasta dangling from the railing.
“This is not right.”
Ignoring everyone else, Anasta looked straight at Ryan with an unyielding expression.
“You… how did you get here…”
“I know it is painful, but there are many wonderful things in this world, Young Master.”
“…I am going to die anyway. Whether it is now or later makes no difference.”
“It does make a difference. You should do everything you wish before you die. And will you truly die? Who knows, a cure for your ailment might be discovered at any moment.”
“You want me to live on such flimsy hope? That is nothing but torture! You know nothing of my suffering or my dread, do you? You simply do not wish to watch someone die before your eyes!”
A mere two weeks. That was the entirety of the time Anasta had known Ryan.
Ryan had always spent his hours confined to his room, trapped in a dull routine.
Anasta understood all too well how cruel an isolated life in a single room could be, unable to do what one wanted or what one had to do.
Though she herself had never been ill, Ryan had far too much to die right now.
An illustrious lineage, handsome features, and remarkable talents.
It was truly a pity to waste all of that.
—‘Anasta, live for my sake. You are so beautiful, and I truly want to look upon this face for a long time.’
Natasha’s words echoed through Anasta’s mind.
Those were the words spoken to her when she had once tried to take her own life.
Because she had not died back then, she had been able to behold beautiful sights and feel gentle warmth, all thanks to her sister.
Therefore, Ryan, too…
“Do not interfere in my business!”
Ryan tried to throw himself from the railing, but Anasta grabbed hold of him with all her might.
She pulled Ryan’s head tightly against her chest and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Young Master! My Lady!”
Before the head maid could reach them, the two entangled bodies plummeted into the shrubbery below.
Even in the midst of the fall, Anasta never let go of Ryan’s head.
In the end, Anasta absorbed the full brunt of the impact.
Ryan, by contrast, remained fully conscious, his body astonishingly unharmed.
“…What is this.”
Belatedly, he noticed the woman who had sheltered him to the very end.
“Damn it, Anasta! Anasta!”
For the first time, terror seized Ryan as he faced the prospect of someone’s death.
He could not believe this foolish woman might die because of him.
“…You are too loud.”
At that moment, a faint voice slipped from between her lips.
“A-Are you alive?”
“I am fine. I will not die from something like this…”
“…Ha!”
“Young Master.”
· · ·
“Do you like sweets?”
“Is now the time for such talk? I must fetch the physician immediately…!”
“Those medicinal herbs and meals you eat every day—don't they taste terrible?”
Anasta recalled the meal trays he had received over the past two weeks.
Simple fare consisting of nothing more than meager portions, medicinal herbs, and broth.
Nutritious though they might be in light of his illness and health, they were dreadfully bland and uninspiring.
“Everyone faces death. I, too, will die someday. So let us live while eating delicious things.”
And with that, Anasta lost consciousness.
END