SOTBW - 205

The dry, earth-like hair—the sole common trait between Nellis and Emaydis—was now submerged in a pool of blood.

Najane watched as the headless body collapsed lifelessly, then squeezed her eyes shut. From afar, the sound of the Serith chewing on flesh echoed.

Hot tears dripped onto the charred floor. Clutching her chest, Najane opened her mouth slightly as if to vomit the sorrow welling up inside her, but instead, she let out a sob.

Her body crumpled to the ground. She wept like an abandoned beast, howling in anguish. Her soul burned with resentment and hatred toward Mikael.

Najane screamed until her voice grew hoarse, pounding the floor with her fists. She struck it repeatedly until the skin of her clenched hands was torn and ragged. Even in this dream, the pain felt vivid. But it wasn’t enough. This level of torment couldn’t drown out the agony in her heart.

How could she ever forget Nellis’s final words telling her to run?

Najane collapsed where she stood, wailing uncontrollably. The palace, engulfed in flames, was consumed in an instant—a tragic end to its long history.

Left alone once more in the darkness, she no longer had the strength to move. All she could manage was to exhale and swallow with great effort. If only she could sink into the darkness forever… If only she could forget everything…

Just as her weary eyes began to close, a small flicker of light trembled in the darkness. Najane, lying in the abyss like a wanderer on the verge of giving up on life, forced herself to lift her head. In the distance, a single flame flickered precariously, as if guiding her toward the path she needed to take.

With great effort, Najane managed to raise her heavy body.

“Emaydis.”

Someone called her name. Najane gazed at the wavering flame in the distance. It was the flame of a lantern. A woman holding the lantern stared at Najane and pointed somewhere.

“Wake up.”

The woman’s voice was firm. As she took a step closer to Najane, she pushed back the hood of her robe, revealing chocolate-brown hair that looked as though it had been mixed with cream and softly glowing turquoise eyes.

Though Najane had never seen her before, in that moment, she felt as if she somehow knew who the woman was. But she couldn’t think any deeper. Her body was sinking further into the abyss. Darkness clung to her like filth, refusing to let go.

The woman raised the lantern high and shouted:

“Wake up, Emaydis!”

Startled by the thunderous command, Najane’s heavy eyelids shot open. In her shock, she swallowed hard, and the metallic taste of blood slid down her throat.

Najane found herself lying in bed. Outside the bedroom, there was a faint commotion. As she slowly pieced together the events leading to her collapse, Najane let out a short sigh. Just imagining the chaos Maximón must have caused made her feel dizzy.

She tried to get up but winced. Her arms and legs felt as though all their muscles had been drained, leaving her unable to muster any strength. Panicking, Najane attempted to rise anyway, only to notice the blood-soaked pillow, the basin on the bedside table, and the pool of blood within it. The towel and handkerchief submerged in the basin were drenched in blood as well.

A bad feeling washed over her as Najane slowly wiped her face. She had thought her cheeks were wet from crying in her dream, but when she looked at her hand, sticky crimson blood coated it.

Realizing what was happening, Najane pinched her nose. Red blood streamed down her wrist like rainwater. Unable to comprehend why her body was betraying her, she struggled to leave the bed but ended up falling to the floor.

A dull thud echoed as Najane hit the ground.

The bedroom door burst open.

“Najane!”

Maximón rushed in and helped her up. Seeing her bleeding from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, his face turned pale as he shouted outside:

“Call a healer priest! Bring that boy Boris immediately!”

Startled by Maximón’s shout, the maid who had been carrying Najane’s blood-stained clothes and bedding hurried into the room. Upon seeing Najane vomiting bright red blood, the maid turned ashen and ran out to fetch help.

Maximón pulled out a handkerchief and carefully pinched Najane’s nose. Blood flowed from various parts of her face, quickly staining his clothes red.

Najane tried to breathe through her mouth but ended up swallowing blood, causing her to gag. Maximón calmly reassured her, unsure of what else to do. Beneath her nightgown, Najane’s body slowly soaked with blood. It was hemorrhaging.

He pulled her small face close, ensuring she wouldn’t see it.

“It’s okay if you throw up. Everything will be fine… Focus on breathing, Najane. Slowly… slowly.”

Maximón gently patted Najane’s shoulder with his blood-soaked hand.  

Najane’s face had turned pale from the inability to breathe, but she managed to take a shallow breath. As the blood slowly stopped flowing from her throat, her chest, which had been painfully heaving, began to rise and fall in a more regular rhythm.  

Having momentarily experienced the terror of suffocation, Najane tightly grasped Maximón’s hand. Her trembling grip was pitiful.  

Maximón, focused on watching over Najane, finally exhaled the breath he had been holding back. He pressed his lips to her sweat-drenched forehead and squeezed her hand firmly. Their blood-stained fingers intertwined desperately.  

With her eyes closed, Najane couldn’t even swallow properly due to the metallic taste of blood and let out a long sigh.  

“I don’t know what’s happening to my body…”  

Najane muttered weakly, her voice filled with anguish.  

Maximón held her close, recalling Boris’s words: She’ll barely last a month. He had denied it at first, refusing to believe, but now, seeing her like this, his heart burned with despair.  

What if he had listened to Taylor’s advice and left Najane as a maid? Shaking off such meaningless thoughts, Maximón barely managed to hold back his tears.  

After collapsing at the party, Najane had bled throughout the night. Though the amount wasn’t large, it was far from a good sign. The bleeding had started with menstruation, followed by nosebleeds, and eventually pus mixed with blood oozed from her ears. The deeper Najane fell into a death-like sleep, the more outward signs of impending death became apparent.  

Maximón forced a smile to reassure the anxious Najane.  

“It’s just exhaustion. You’ve worked so hard lately. This is just your body telling you to rest.”  

“The party…”  

Thinking of Mikael, Najane swallowed her words without finishing. Maximón smiled faintly and comforted her.  

“Of course, it went well. There was no big commotion, so don’t worry.”  

He lied skillfully, thinking it better than revealing the truth. He wanted to ask Najane who Kieron Vieto was, but seeing how much pain she was in, he swallowed the question. Right now, Najane’s stability mattered more than the truth.  

Just then, the maid who had gone to fetch a healer returned with Didina. Didina nearly fainted at the sight of Maximón and Najane drenched in blood. The metallic stench of blood permeated the air, carried by the warm breeze from the fireplace.  

Didina stared in shock at the blood soaking Maximón’s clothes before taking a deep breath.  

“…I’ll prepare bathwater.”  

Barely managing to speak, Didina hurriedly left the room. The other maids, unsure of what to do, began cleaning up.  

One maid, startled by Najane’s condition, accidentally knocked over a stack of papers on the desk. As the documents fell, the iron skewer hanging by the fireplace clattered loudly. Maximón shot the maid a sharp glare, silently warning her to be quiet. The maids quickly lowered their gaze, intimidated by his fierce expression.  

He carefully lifted the exhausted Najane in his arms and stood up gently.  

The maids tiptoed around like cats, quietly removing the blood-soaked pillows, blankets, and the carpet soaked with blood.  

Najane barely managed to stay conscious despite the dizziness and nausea caused by the blood loss. She lacked the strength to even lift an arm. Thinking about how these days might continue made her lips tremble with sorrow.  

But Najane did her best to maintain a composed expression. Keeping her composure was the best way to prevent her mind from crumbling completely.  

Didina mobilized all the guards stationed at the mansion to quickly bring hot water to the bathroom. With dozens of hands helping, steam soon rose from the slightly cramped tub meant for two people.  

The maids, glancing at Maximón nervously, poured herbs into the bathtub. Once the preparations were complete, Didina sent the maids away. Any more commotion would surely anger Maximón. Didina placed their clothes in a corner of the bathroom and carefully closed the door behind her.  

Maximón gently set Najane down beside the bathtub. His touch was cautious yet tender, as if handling a fragile glass bowl on the verge of shattering.  

He calmly tore the blood-soaked nightgown, the felt fabric making a loud ripping sound. Leaning against the tub, Najane sighed sadly at the sight. Maximón poured warm water over her blood-caked body.  

“I’ll buy you better ones. Multiple sets for spring, summer, autumn, and winter.”  

“…Isn’t that wasteful?”  

Najane murmured weakly. Anyone who wasn’t a fool could understand the true meaning behind her words. Maximón paused briefly, swallowing a short breath as he continued washing her body. Blood continued to flow endlessly along the bathroom floor.  

As he gently stroked her slightly thin back, Maximón deliberately responded with firmness.

“Even if you hate it, I’ll buy it for you.”  

Maximón’s voice trembled faintly. Najane, hugging her thin legs, let out a soft laugh.  

“The nightgown?”  

“Anything. Everything you need, everything you don’t. Everything I can give…”  

Najane didn’t respond, as if silently saying that no matter how much was given, she could no longer hold onto anything.  

Maximón was terrified of her silence. It felt as though she had already accepted death with calm resignation, and he wanted to beg her not to give up.  

After washing his hands with the remaining water, he forced himself to stay composed and picked up a basin of fresh water, sitting across from Najane. Her once lively eyes now looked sunken and hollow.  

For a moment, his throat tightened. So this is really it. Najane dying… it’s all true. Swallowing his trembling breath, Maximón gently wiped her blood-soaked face with warm water.  

Najane closed her eyes quietly. As he carefully cleaned the blood like wiping the face of a baby, her vitality seemed to drain away completely, revealing pale, lifeless skin. Maximón bit his lip so hard it hurt. He was grateful she had her eyes closed—he couldn’t bear for her to see the anguish on his face.  

Taking a small, shaky breath, Maximón pretended to be nonchalant and lightly kissed her. Startled, Najane opened her eyes wide like a rabbit, then chuckled softly.  

Maximón continued cleaning her ears and neck until they were spotless, then lifted her up in his arms. Somehow, she felt lighter than before. Thankfully, as Najane settled into the bathtub, her body finally relaxed, and she exhaled a long, contented breath.  

Only after washing Najane did Maximón remove his own clothes, scrubbing off the stains of her blood from his skin as indifferently as he could manage.