-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Chapter 6. Gretel stood before the path of breadcrumbs and thought. There was no need to go home.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
‘Help me! Help! It wasn’t me, it really wasn’t!’
It’s a dream.
That same tedious dream again.
They say dreams serve to review the past, fulfill secret desires, and prophesize the future, don't they?
Come to think of it, the damned old hag who gave me the apple wine had a very peculiar face. As if she were wearing a mask…
Ah, whatever.
In that case, my old dreams mostly serve to review the past. Whenever I'm the least bit tired or worn out, I dream of when I was twelve.
In the dream, I watched, teary-eyed, as Philip was dragged away.
The merchant lord's mercenaries showed no hint of expression as they seized the scrawny Philip. I gave up trying to reason with them and ran to the lord's room.
Lord Violode.
There was no way my father hadn't planned all of this. I burst into the lord's room and screamed.
“If you're tired of Helena, just say so! Why are you taking it out on Philip? Claiming he stole my pearl hairpin to give to her? I gave it to her! I'm the one who gave it to Helena!”
I shrieked, flinging the hairpin to the floor.
The merchant lord, with his strangely shaped blue beard, rose from his seat.
He walked toward me, his face cold. Then he threw a rabbit doll he had been hiding behind his back.
“Did you give her this, too?”
No. Not this one.
That damned Philip…
“…See? Philip is a thief. To think I let these rats into my house…”
“I gave it to her.”
I glared at Violode.
I was never one to speak meekly to my father, but this was the first time I'd felt such a fierce rage.
The feeling that…
The feeling that I could kill someone.
It was a feeling I had only ever read about in the pages of a novel, and I was feeling it toward my father, my only family.
“I said I gave it to her!”
“The gift I gave you, you mean?”
Violode grabbed me by the collar. I couldn't breathe.
My face contorted.
“I don't need any gifts from you!”
“You…? I am your father. Don't you dare address your father so insolently!”
The outcome was predictable.
Violode began to beat me.
And in a familiar place…
I'm locked in the storeroom where the merchant lord usually hides his treasures. I'm crying in the dark, cramped space.
“P-please, help me… Help me…!”
Where had my earlier bravado gone?
Stupid Imeline. Cowardly Imeline. Acting tough against Father when you know you can't do a thing.
I hate the twelve-year-old Imeline.
“Shut up, Imeline. If you keep making noise, I'll have Philip shot instead of sending him to the fighting pits.”
The merchant lord's cold voice cut through the air.
At his words, I clamped my mouth shut. A sob escaped through my clenched teeth.
Young Philip was fated to die in the fighting pits my father sent him to, facing off against mercenaries.
The merchant lord chuckled in the dark room.
“But why are you suddenly making such a fuss for Philip? You hated Helena and Philip, didn't you, Imeline?”
He was right. I had hated Philip and Helena for two whole years.
What child would like a family that had suddenly fallen from the sky because of that man they called a father?
I had completely ignored Philip and Helena for two years. So that pearl hairpin was the first ‘gift’ I had ever given Helena.
I remembered Helena's bright smile as she thanked me for it.
Just then, that horrible sound of waves began again.
—*Crack!*
“You think you can live without me?”
—*Crack!*
“I feed you, clothe you, give you a place to sleep!”
—*Crack!*
“And yet you dare to defy your own father?! How dare you?”
A searing pain, as if from a hot iron, shot across my back.
“Damned girl. You almost ruined the whole plan by saying you gave the hairpin to Helena.”
The moment I heard my father's cold voice, I overcame the pain and got to my feet.
My father saw me. He raised his hand as if to strike me again.
But I was faster.
I drew the dagger I'd been holding and plunged it into my father's thigh.
He collapsed so easily it made a mockery of the terrifying figure he'd always presented.
My father…
My father probably never knew, not even at the very end.
That his damned girl could stab her own father. That his damned girl had a heart, one that could hate him enough to kill.
My father probably never knew.
Because I didn't know either, until that very moment.
✵ ✵ ✵
“…You stupid thing! I should have sold you to the slave market!”
I heard the small voice of Violode, twitching on the floor.
Helena stood before the merchant lord's office, barefoot and disheveled.
Her face was pale as she looked at the fallen Violode, then her startled eyes turned to me. I didn't know what to say, only gasping for breath as I looked up at her.
Amidst the chaos, Violode muttered weakly.
“…This is all your fault…”
Hearing those words, I dropped the dagger I was holding.
It's all my fault.
The words rang in my ears.
It was true. I didn't want to admit it, but back then, I was truly the most pathetic wretch in the south.
My father began to stir. I, who had been trembling and whimpering, scrambled away on the floor. My father spoke.
“How dare you… betray the father who gave you life… You think you can live a proper life after this…?”
My father's bloodshot eyes glared at me. But it was only for a moment; his prostrate body went limp in an instant.
“…”
In the silence, I burst into tears.
“…I… I killed Papa…”
A small snort answered my words.
I looked up to see Helena taking my trembling hand.
“I killed Papa!”
Helena nudged Violode with her foot. A groan escaped his lips. As if to prove her point, she turned to me.
“No, Imeline. He's not dead. Look. He's still breathing! We have to leave now. We have to escape!”
I could see my face reflected in Helena's brown eyes.
A terrified little girl.
Even to my own eyes, the girl in her reflection looked so pathetic and foolish.
My father always told me I was a weak creature who couldn't survive without him, without his help.
“Escape…? I can't do that.”
Tears streamed down my face as I looked at Helena.
“I can't live on my own… I'm weak… How can a girl by herself…”
“Don't be a fool! Imeline!”
Helena gripped my shoulders. Her strength was enough to make even me, lost in panic, snap my head up.
“You're not weak! Look at yourself! Why did you stab Violode? Why did you do it?”
“W-well, because…”
Because Philip was captured. Because that big oaf would die easily if I didn't save him.
“You did it to protect Philip. Right?”
“…”
I nodded.
“You found the courage to protect Philip. Even though you might get hurt, even though you didn't know what would happen. A person like that isn't weak.”
My tears slowly subsided.
“And you won't be living alone. I'll ask you one last time.”
“…?”
I lifted my head.
Helena gazed at me with brown eyes, the same as mine, and asked.
“Will you be my daughter?”
It was the second time she'd asked.
The second time in two years.
The moment I heard that question, a light flickered in my pathetic, foolish eyes.
For the past twelve years, the merchant lord had locked me up and beaten me, but I had never been able to leave. It wasn't because I was afraid of him, or of the mercenaries who would chase me.
What I truly feared was life outside the merchant guild.
A dangerous freedom with no one to protect me. I was not a person with the courage to enjoy such freedom.
But now, if I didn't even take the hand she offered me, I would be more than just a person without courage; I would be nothing more than a tamed dog, content in its cage.
Realizing this, I gritted my teeth.
In the reflection in Helena's brown eyes, life slowly returned to my face.
I nodded.
Helena smiled.
“Let's go, Imeline. It's time to escape this wretched house.”
Helena helped me to my feet.
“From now on, no matter what anyone says, you're my daughter. My daughter.”
Helena brought water from somewhere and began to roughly wash my wounds.
“That damned Violode… to beat a child this young… that bastard…”
For the first time, Helena began to choke up in front of me.
It was the first time I had ever felt such a gentle touch, and I just stared blankly.
Helena said.
“It's okay. Don't worry.”
About what?
What am I worried about?
“You'll be okay. My father was a drunk too, you know? He'd resort to his fists when words failed. But look at me now. I grew up just fine, didn't I?”
Only then did I understand.
Helena was worried that I would remember this day and suffer for a long time. It wasn't me, but Helena, who was worried about it.
In that moment, I threw my arms around Helena's neck without thinking.
“…Mama!”
Mama…?
The word slipped out before I could stop it, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. But it was too late. Helena was already hugging me tightly, saying.
“Yes. My… my lovely Imeline.”
It was then.
The sound of mercenaries' voices came from outside.
Startled, I spun around to look at the entrance.
Just then, Violode, who had been lying there as if dead, grabbed Helena's foot.
Helena shrieked as she fell hard on her bottom.
“Aaaaaah!”
“You… you, you ungrateful wench! Where do you think you're going! You dare try to take my daughter with you?”
Terrified, I watched my father drag Helena away, then I suddenly came to my senses and looked for a fire poker.
Quickly, my father… my father…
‘What are you going to do to your father?’
A voice in my head asked.
It was a chilling question.
