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Margaret Eilish didn’t particularly attract Taylor’s attention.
A woman whose personal information was level C or lower. The second daughter of the Marquis family, who had nothing to look at, was a person who was useless except for her appearance.
The woman who had been confined to the house, acting sickly without any evil or good deeds, had nothing else to hold in her hands.
Because Florencia Eilish was Glacie’s main customer and ‘partner’, her younger sister was far too insignificant compared to her older sister.
In addition, since Florencia did not allow any gossip about her sister in society, most of the rumors that were circulating were significantly less realistic.
Florencia said that all the rumors were ridiculous bullshit.
So, the only thing Taylor felt about Margaret, whom he had no relationship with, was that she was quiet for a villain’s younger sister.
Margaret came to visit him the day before Beatrice was kidnapped.
It’s a strange thing. She sat arrogantly in the main hall of the guild and did not call anyone.
Naturally, I was standing in front of her, waving her hands as if she knew where I would be here.
“I have a question. I’m thinking of going for 40 gold per answer.”
“…fifty.”
Taylor cut her off and started an arrogant bargain. It was a tone that would have made her raise her middle finger if it had been Florencia.
Most ordinary people couldn’t properly connect their words with their momentum. Didn’t Beatrice stutter too?
Even Florencia Eilish was on the side of giving up when he was in a bad mood.
Taylor was ready to mock the woman in front of him, measuring the time when she would stutter.
However, Margaret looked at the bloodstains on his hand in the distance and suddenly nodded, breaking all his expectations.
“Sure.”
“… Ask.”
And the words that came out. Taylor remembered that one word vividly.
She looked up at his face for a long time and then asked with a languid smile.
“Do you love Beatrice?”
***
Taylor could neither affirm nor deny it; he was surprised by this sudden and out of the blue question, and could not think of a reason why Margaret wondered about it.
He tried to retort the nonsense, but when he saw the gold coin in Margaret’s pocket, he clicked his tongue.
“Shall I make it seventy?”
“Why, for charity?”
“I meant to be honest with you.”
Margaret shook her head. Taylor had to press his temples. Be honest.
Beatrice was completely different from the people he had dealt with so far.
The way she tried to negotiate calmly, trying to live as if she was suppressing him, was something special to him.
But was it love?
Taylor clicked his tongue. Admittedly, it was somewhat true that he ‘wanted’ Beatrice.
He was not sure if that feeling was love or the desire to conquer, but it could probably fall into the category of love.
At the very least, the thought of wanting to see Beatrice shed tears in front of him was certainly valid until now.
If so, he wouldn’t kill her and would keep her by his side.
He had confidence in that.
‘… But why am I thinking about this?’
“Who cares?”
He grunted annoyedly as he watched Margaret harden her expression. The eyes of a woman resembling the dawn sky, filled with boredom, were listening to the rest of his swear words.
There was no significant change in her face, which seemed to have been carved out of boredom.
Suddenly, for a moment, he became curious. Was that woman afraid of death? Would she act like Beatrice?
Taylor thought so and looked at her with his bloody eyes.
Her flickering eyes folded in half and smiled. It wasn’t calm, but it was a contradictory look that wasn’t frightened.
At least it could not be denied that it was an expression he had never seen before.
Taylor imagined that expression collapsing.
‘I’m sure I can give Beatrice vicarious satisfaction.’
That’s what Taylor thought, and he adjusted the dagger he always carried.
He wanted to break that poker face. The liveliness caused by the twisted desire spread blurred.
And even before that killing spree could strangle the other person, Margaret Eilish perfectly twisted his expectations.
Taylor felt something different from the emotion of interest.
He lowered his scarlet eyes and murmured, as if to say, “Live.”
“…Then, be careful, in particular with the knight.”
***
Taylor hugged the pillow with a depressed look. It was when Kestiel Lerod picked up and swung the guild member’s sword that fell to the ground that he realized that the words were advice.
Inside the bloody castle, Taylor couldn’t even scream.
It was an ‘accidental’ fatal blow.
Taylor was reluctant to even remember what happened after that, so he decided to think about something else at that point.
Because of his nerve-numbing stinger, he couldn’t make any significant movements, but that didn’t mean he was completely insensitive to pain.
Prisoners who gave up rehabilitation could not even talk to the guards, and activities such as walking around the room to build up physical strength were prohibited, so that was almost the only way to kill time.
“She’ll come”
Taylor repeated as if brainwashed. The severity of his seizures was getting worse as he repeated his flashbacks.
“You will come.”
He felt like a guard dog. Taylor continued to murmur.
The mind-destroying drug had completely ruined him. There was no more magic power left in the magic control tool provided by the guild, and the antidote that was given every day was also nonexistent.
Besides, Alcatraz was an underground secret room. A dark room with no one to talk to and no one that talked to them was enough to amplify the effects of simple drugs.
One of the reasons for his mind deterioration was the bad ventilation, and that was also a factor that increased the effect of seizures.
During each seizure, Taylor suffered from shortness of breath and coughed up blood. All sorts of visual and auditory hallucinations choked him, and they were repeated endlessly.
The hallucination of repeating one’s own mistakes like a kaleidoscope was a torture in itself.
In addition, in a situation where tearing one’s body in unbearable pain became a daily routine, the pain one had to endure after waking up from a seizure was equally terrible.
Even if the nerves were dull, the pain was the same.
Among the intermittent hallucinations was his voice. Taylor listened to his voice as if he was struggling amid numerous resentment and ridicule, and tore off his hair.
‘You collapsed with just one knight, you idiot’
‘There is a reason for being abandoned.’
“I’ll never get out of here!”
At the same time, the momentarily paralyzed muscles felt as if they were being cut off. And even the nightmare that began at the momentary consciousness was cut off.
Margaret Eilish had already provided him with almost the only thing he needed before he appealed for such pain.
Things like sleeping pills and painkillers. And then she smiled and whispered. So many things happened that day, a few very concise words instead of a casual conversation.
‘Take care of yourself, don’t die, and take medicine if you think you’re going to have a seizure. I’ll bring you some snacks next time.’
‘… ‘
‘Should I give you a riddle if you’re bored?’ It was always like that.
Taylor felt like crying and looked at his hands. The ointment that Margaret had given to the guard had been applied.
Contrary to the way Margaret had carefully pushed it in, the contents of the medicine cabinet that had been thrown insincerely had already been considerably wasted. Taylor spat out a few curse words at the jailer that he would never get an answer for.
“Damn it…”
Looking back, Margaret had never spoken out about her work outside of prison. She didn’t even talk about the future, and she didn’t try to clumsily persuade him to have dreams and hopes.
She was even silent about her feelings.
Margaret did what she could, and didn’t try to force herself to understand the feelings she couldn’t handle. Sometimes when he asked about the outside, she only told him stories about Beatrice.
And Taylor, he loved those things.
The words that weren’t hypocritical, the jokes and light consolations she gave as if she were caring for him who would have to live locked up for the rest of his life. The effect of the medicine that came with her was also excellent.
So, on the day Margaret visited, Taylor was able to fall asleep without a seizure.
He didn’t know what’s going to happen now.
She didn’t lie. She didn’t come. She said she was busy, and the ointment the guard gave her didn’t even have a note.
Taylor gritted his teeth.
He didn’t expect anything emotional or great from Margaret.
Just pity, he murmured over and over, and that was it.
A woman who was kind only within the permissible range was fleeting, as she once said.
Taylor felt like he was choking on emptiness. On the lowest floor of the basement where not a single light came in, the humidity rose.
Why was it so late to remind him that no one was there? For the first time, he was ‘frightened’. A hallucination occurred, and Taylor wiggled his arms to suppress his seizures.
The gesture of fear was slowed down by fatigue and helplessness.
The hallucinations that appeared and dispersed showed Castiel Reload.
There was no such thing as a skit. Taylor was still not convinced that he had been so badly beaten up by the Knight.
Of course, Castiel Reload was famous as the best knight in the Empire. However, that was a different story when facing his swordsmanship.
Compared with the simple force they would use to fight each other, in reality there was no one more skilled than him in killing people. Apparently there was.
‘It was dramatic. There is such a thing as all of them dying, and then coincidences suddenly overlap, and the enemy’s head dangles in an instant to the point of collapse. What do you mean by the enemy? It feels like I lost by force after always winning.’
Margaret spoke quietly when she told him about Castiel.
‘If it had stuck properly, it would have been a whistle’, she said. With a softer voice than usual as if trying to comfort him.
‘Did Mel…know?’
A funny but not negligible possibility came to mind.
Yeah, she said to beware of the knight. It wasn’t advice, she said, but it might have been a warning of some sort. Maybe she knew more.
But before Taylor could even marvel at its accuracy, he had to face the unpleasant voice.
“Wake up.”
“…Ha.”
The silence in the locker room dissipated in an instant. Castiel Reload’s appearance was too vivid.
‘God damn it.’ Taylor swallowed a curse in his heart and glared with his red eyes.
Oh yeah. Coincidence didn’t repeat itself twice. This time, yes. Someday definitely.
Castiel spoke in a very reluctant tone to the assassin who was grinning with murderous eyes.
“I don’t want to see your face either, so stop making that kind of expression. Omit the noise.”
Castiel looked like he was chewing on a bug.
“A probation order has been issued for Lady Eilish.”
“…What?”
He stopped thinking.