Labyrinthe rouge - Chapitre 1

Chapitre 1 – [Butterflies Out Of The Maze]

She grabbed her head and sank into the corner of her room. Pour la première fois de sa vie, she prayed with all her heart whilst shivering.

‘Help me. Mais… d'une certaine manière, ses jeunes clients sont un peu bizarres. Help me.’

Donc, what would be the answer of our protagonist, Icaryl, when she was asked to choose between life and death, provided the fact that she has experienced too many painful hardships in the past?

Considering those ten years of misery in her life that were more terrible than death itself, she would have chosen the latter. It was important for her to ‘live’. The pain of the future could be felt in the future. But in the present, she had to live. So even if Icaryl returned to this moment in a few years, le résultat serait le même.

Oui, by swallowing bitter water, she would resume meeting her fate before she falls to the bottom of the abyss again. De toute façon, Icaryl would tell you.

God did not answer her, but her wish was fulfilled.

Because the story, which was so cruel and so tragic, has not even begun yet.

Chapitre 1 – Butterflies Out Of The Maze

Blood began flowing from her lower lip as she was biting it out of fear. pourtant, the wound never healed quickly whenever she bled. With the flow of time, a clear red line was drawn to her snowy neck.

“Icaryl!"

If it wasn’t for the call, perhaps she would have died of terror. Death was so horribly terrifying.

Icaryl, who was crouching down in a corner after locking her room, got startled by the familiar voice. The door opened roughly to reveal a familiar person, his armor covered in blood.

Her eyes unwittingly fell on him. It was terrible to think that the blood covered in gold could be hers, even when the young priests were beaten to death like a play.

“Icaryl.”

It wasn’t until she tore her eyes from his armor to his face that she recognized him properly. Dazing up at him, she came to know that it was Hatiah, her brother-in-law and the future king. À ce moment là, her fear of death was washed away. Only the fact that he would never kill anyone, even if he aimed for his own body, made her relax.

Ses yeux, which were usually filled with arrogance and discontent, étaient raides. His wounded arm was bleeding uncontrollably. All the women of Argonia, who would have complimented him about his beautiful stature, were made silent. Hatiah, with an anxious look on his face, strode over to her and caught her wrist.

“Is no one around? Why are you alone?"
“I-I don’t….I don’t know. Qu'est-il arrivé? Are we safe?"
"Je ne peux pas dire. The knights and I got separated. Son Altesse, Tamar, died too.”
“Ta-Tamar Oravany is dead?"

Icaryl was taken aback. Tamar was the King’s brother. The royal family had two sons, one was diagnosed with a congenital disorder, and the other one was the best swordsman. It was truly surprising to know that the giant man has died. Icaryl felt strangely disappointed rather than feeling sad. She started chewing on her nails.

She did not care how she looked or talked now that the gate had already been pushed open by the enemy.

Are they all surrounded? Can they hide? Can they survive?

Hatiah seemed tense. In the search of finding a way to live desperately, he sat down on the bed.

“Does this make any sense? Invasion from the Continent just the day after they declared war? Don’t you think their hearts are filled with haughtiness and cruelty? Hein? I’m still young and I’ll have to take over your father’s reign soon!"

"Oui."

“After the declaration, I should have strengthened the security!"

« ….. »

crash!

There was a sound of something hard breaking down somewhere accompanied by a man’s scream and smoke. As she was frightened, she grabbed the hem of Hatiah’s cape. After the sound died out, she eventually asked convulsively.

“T-Then are we going to die? Am I going to die?"

Fear enveloped her five senses, paralyzing them. His cloudy, sky-blue eyes stared back at Icaryl, who was silently terrified. She didn’t know what it was like to be slowly revealed in front of the King’s successor and most plausibly her brother-in-law. All she wanted to know was, “Can she live?", c'est tout. It was not long before he said,

elle n'était pas différente des autres bonnes, maybe you will. Non, I should be the one to kill you.”

“Wha-What?!"

De quoi parlait-il? She was going to die?

Icaryl felt nauseated by the terrible despair. She was so out of her mind that she could not hear what he had to say.

« Si tu meurs, don’t you think that it would mean you’re getting sacrificed?"

Dès qu'il eut fini, Hatiah pushed Icaryl on the bed and climbed on top of her. His rough hand grabbed her slender wrist and hooked it in one place. Being suppressed violently, she began cursing at him.

She already had countless bruises on her fragile skin. And his actions worsened the pain she felt. Shouldn’t they try to escape their awaiting imminent death? Hatiah, who was supposed to run away, felt frustrated.

Her legs trembled as he swept his hand through her left thigh. 'Non!’ She had not yet had her first menstruation. Whether his sister-in-law rebelled or not, he focused only on coveting her as if he were being chased by something. Her thighs were revealed as soon as the hem of her skirt was torn apart.

'Êtes-vous fou?! Qu'est-ce que tu fais?!'

"Hey, tenir bon! Do you think I want you to get sacrificed right now?!"

Despite being dumbfounded by the ugly and absurd excuses, Icaryl understood that he was scared too. She felt it with keen sympathy as a worthy comrade. Hatiah just wanted to comfort himself by wasting this precious little time trying to avoid the situation!

'Bâtard fou! What a jerk!'

Her heart ached with grief and despair, and soon she realized that she was holding her breath.

C'était fini. She was really going to die here……..

Her strength drained away from her limbs.

Hatiah smiled and kissed her trembling eyelids when she had finally given up protesting.

'Oui, that’s how you become a good sister. Oh, my beautiful. You don’t know how your red eyes drive a man crazy, est-ce que tu?'

Something entered his sight, but he turned his head away and ignored it. Non, it was someone’s shadow…

“You were having a great time.”

Icaryl could hear Oravany, who had been the noblest of all, en hurlant. And it was after a thick, hot liquid was poured all over her that she opened her eyes wide. She was slowly gaining consciousness. The most precious man, whom her sister ever had, was cut off and laid still on the floor. Her hands were trembling, and her cheeks were covered in blood. The scene was as dim as a lantern in a windy storm.

En attendant, Icaryl was taken as prey.

As her eyes were adjusting to the light, she could roughly draw up a man’s silhouette. The first thing that came into her sight was blood. Blood was dripping across his uniform as if a sword had been sunk solemnly like an envoy. The man shifted his gaze towards her. Icaryl stared at his blue eyes and felt like she was floating in the sea of hell.

She recognized him in an instant. The outlaw who came across the strait. Outlander and killer. L'empereur.

He licked the blood that was stuck on one side of his lips while glancing sharply at Icaryl’s disheveled clothes, her snowy white neck covered in blood, before stopping at her tears in those beautiful eyes of hers.

Une fille, si juste, baigné de sang. She was like a stabbed white deer on the altar. Bearing very terrified eyes. A faint scent of honey mixed up with the nerve-racking scent blood-soaked musk. She looked as if she was frightened of being grasped as prey.

“Princess of Argonia.”

Icaryl thought that he spoke in a rough voice smoothly. Il a souri.

“Are you…… God’s maid of honor?

À ce moment là, their eyes met each other. She noticed that his blue pupils had become thinner. She felt a sense of being buried alive.

The man didn’t put a sword on her neck, nor did he scour her clothes. He just stared at Icaryl with those immovable blue, cynical, cruel, cold-blooded, and extremely greedy eyes of his. Mais….

It was the first time that she had a feeling of committing an unforgivable crime.

Ographyle ──────────