Please Kill Me

Vol. 1 Chapter 2.3

When I reminisce about my childhood that began on that night, the first thing that comes to mind is the intense fragrances.

The rich and abundant floral scent and the crisp and fresh smell of numerous medicinal plants tickling my nose, flowing out from the majestic and endless Secretia Woods behind the Count's Manor. In the midst of it all, as a child, as a little girl, I could flutter around like a butterfly, enjoying those short and precious days.

Of course, during the time when I lived as a companion and playmate to Lambert, the white-faced boy who helped me that night, and the eldest son of my mother's master, Count Hindleton, I received more than just breast milk from my mother.

Count Hindleton was a lascivious man. Until I later arrived in Hildesreville, where I encountered all sorts of despicable human figures, he was the evilest person I had ever seen.

The baby who needed my mother to nurse him was not the offspring of the Countess. According to the whispers of a kitchen maid who had a loose tongue, the child's mother was a widow from a neighboring village. She said that the mother died from childbirth fever immediately after the baby was born. Before that, the Count had a history of impregnating a dismissed maid two or three times, so there were possibly two or three siblings for Lambert, she added.

However, they said that none of those babies lived beyond the year they were born. The baby my mother took care of had cheeks that grew paler with each passing day. I, too, experienced the same for a while. However, those peaceful days didn't last long.

"Sob, ugh, ugh, sob, sob..."

My mother would fall asleep by the baby's cradle, and I would crawl under the small bed where she slept and drift off to sleep. But one day, while peacefully sleeping like a baby mouse under the bed, I heard a strange sound. It was a stifled moan from my mother. I quickly crawled out from under the bed to check on her, but...

There was a man making louder and rougher breathing sounds, and there were erratic movements. The intense musk scent filled my nose. Even without seeing the person who was attacking my mother and making her groan, I knew it was Count Hindleton.

I bit my lip and covered my ears with both hands. Hot tears flowed relentlessly from my tightly closed eyes.

The memories of what happened that night are blurry. I tried my best to forget. The next morning, my mother asked if I could sleep in the lowest maid's room from that night onwards. I nodded in understanding. However, when evening came, I couldn't bring myself to go to the lowest maid's room. I crouched in a corner of the corridor. I wished for my existence to be erased, buried in the darkness.

I distanced myself as far as possible from the room with the baby's cradle and folded myself up tightly, unable to do anything. I believed that if I stayed in a place where no one could find me, then nothing would happen.

"Get up."

It was Lambert.

"Let's go to my room."

"B-But... I-I-I s-shouldn't... I can't..."

"When it's just the two of us, you can speak comfortably, Dahlia."

And he grabbed my arm and helped me up. I stumbled along and followed him to his room. There, hanging over a canopy much larger than the baby's cradle, was a white and cozy wool blanket spread out.

"Sleep here. Comfortably."

Lambert's touch gently soothing my bewildered self was incredibly warm. I simply lay down on the cozy and plush bed. As I rested my body, sweet sleep came to me as if it were a lie. I didn't want to think about anything. I couldn't tell if Lambert had been watching me as I fell asleep or how long he had been doing so.