The pain surged gradually in Elena’s numb cheek, accompanied by a searing sensation of heat.
“Elena!” Cura exclaimed, seizing Elena’s arm in surprise and providing support.
Elena instinctively wrapped her palm around the stinging cheek where Hazel’s strike had landed, her eyes widening with shock. Tears threatened to well up from the pain, mingling with the heat now emanating from her eyes, but she stifled them by biting down on her lower lip.
“Who dares to do such a thing?” Cura demanded, her voice laced with concern as she watched Hazel’s actions.
As Hazel extended her hand with a twisted smirk, Carmen approached, offering a handkerchief. With disdain evident in every movement, Hazel used it to wipe her offending hand before callously tossing it at Elena’s face. Elena flinched, closing her eyes in reflex, but the cloth struck her hand and fluttered to the ground.
“”I think you’re under the wrong impression that you’re under his care. You’re in a different class than he is, which means he’s not someone you dare cross,” Hazel sneered, her tone dripping with contempt.
“I… I understand,” Elena murmured, her voice trembling with a mixture of pain and defiance.
Cura’s breaths were resolute yet rough, but she remained unable to confront Hazel directly.
“If you know, then remain by the duke’s side. Don’t deny your feelings for him. Have you even confessed your affections to him?” Hazel taunted.
“There’s no way I would do that,” Elena retorted, her voice steadier now despite her inner turmoil.
“At least you seem to have a conscience,” Hazel conceded with a scoff. “But if you truly intended to leave, you should have done so regardless. Did you want to know if the duke would chase after you or let you depart willingly?”
Elena shook her head, a mix of emotions swirling within her. She hadn’t considered such implications; her hesitation stemmed from the guilt of abandoning the kindness she had received from Kennard.
“No,” she replied firmly. Could it be that even the Duke had thoughts similar to Hazel’s? That he thought I wanted to stay, so he locked me in my room? Elena pondered silently, her mind swirling with unsettling possibilities.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Hazel’s sharp retort shattered Elena’s thoughts, the intensity of her voice barely contained. Even from outside the room, Elena could sense the hostility simmering beneath Hazel’s composed facade.
“Aren’t you going to run away now?” Hazel’s inquiry cut through the tense air, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“What?” Elena’s response was laced with confusion, her mind struggling to keep pace with Hazel’s sudden shift in conversation.
“I heard the Duke went out at night. And if he took Serin with him, now’s the chance,” Hazel continued, her words sharp and incisive.
“But how can I, when the knights are guarding outside…” Elena’s voice trailed off as a loud knock echoed through the room, interrupting her thoughts.
Hazel snorted dismissively and gestured toward the terrace. “If you truly want to escape, then go out there.”
Elena’s heart sank as she glanced toward the terrace, realizing the perilous drop that awaited her outside. Jumping from this height was akin to a death sentence.
“Am I that detestable?” Elena’s voice wavered as she turned to face Hazel by the terrace door, her eyes betraying her inner turmoil.
“Even if you oppose now, eventually the Duke will marry me. Even if the Duke doesn’t marry me, it won’t be you. No one will acknowledge you by the Duke’s side,” Hazel declared with chilling certainty, her words a stark reminder of Elena’s precarious position.
Hazel heaved a heavy sigh, her anger palpable as she made her way toward the door, followed closely by Carmen who swiftly opened it for her.
As the door swung open abruptly, Hazel and Carmen emerged from inside, catching the knights off guard. Wide-eyed with surprise, the knights watched as Hazel’s figure disappeared down the corridor before redirecting their attention towards Elena within the room.
“No, when…?” one of the knights began, confusion evident in his voice.
“What were you two doing? Surely you both didn’t fail to sense Lady Hazel’s presence?” Cura’s voice boomed, filled with frustration and reproach as she addressed the embarrassed knights.
The knights exchanged sheepish glances, unable to offer a satisfactory explanation to Cura’s probing question.
Cura approached Elena, offering her support and guiding her to the bed. “Please sit here. I’ll bring you some warm tea and a towel. Just wait a moment,” she said, her voice softened with concern.
With a nod, Cura hastened towards the door, issuing a final warning to the knights before closing it behind her.
Alone in the room, Elena sank onto the bed, her gaze fixed on the handkerchief lying forgotten on the floor. The echo of Hazel’s parting words reverberated in her mind, piercing deeper than the physical sting of the slap she had received.
“If the King and the people find out that he refused me because of someone like you, it will become troublesome for him. So think carefully.”
The weight of Hazel’s words bore down on Elena, a heavy burden of guilt and uncertainty settling over her. Bowing her head, she cradled her face in her hands, a desperate desire to cry clawing at her chest.
But no tears came. It felt as though something was constricting her, suffocating her emotions before they could surface.
It was almost a relief, in a way. Elena couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t deserve to cry. The thought of the potential consequences of her actions weighed heavily on her conscience, casting a shadow over any hope for a brighter future.
