Chapter 3: After the Loneliness
1207 Words
Lirad was gone, and the maids had left the house. I was alone in the vast palace.
No, I was the only vampire left in the palace.
In the evening, I walked alone down the corridor, barefoot， to make no sound.
Yet, I could hear many footsteps around me, urgent and cautious, as if they didn't want me to hear but also wanted me to, echoing continuously outside the window.
I pushed open the wooden door at the end of the corridor, and it creaked loudly from not being opened for a long time.
Vivian's diary said that the door held the answers I was looking for.
I didn't know what answers, but I trusted everything Vivian said.
The furniture in the room was clean but showed signs of age. In front of the large*** was an old sofa. Next to the sofa was a low table with a vase, surrounded by dried petals that didn't look like roses.
The room was dimly lit, but I didn't dare open the curtains. The people outside hadn't left, and I didn't want to cause unnecessary trouble.
Fortunately, vampires don't need much light to see clearly, even in the dark.
Unconsciously, I walked to the sofa and curled up on it, stroking the black rose pattern on the sofa.
Lying on the sofa, I stared at the wall opposite me, at the spot that was a slightly different color from the rest of the walls. There... used to be something there, I think...
I squinted, trying to break through the barriers of my memory with my own strength.
A rectangular object, could it be a portrait?
I got up and looked around the room. The familiar furnishings felt so strange. There seemed to be something on the third shelf, second slot of the bookshelf.
I went over and carefully checked each book.
"Snap!" When I pulled out the fifth book, a copper badge fell to the floor, spinning around my feet before lying still, face up, at my feet.
It was... I looked at the badge in disbelief. It contained a small photo of two women, me and... who?
Lirad said that before I fell into a deep sleep, my only friend was Shaman. So, the enchanting woman standing next to me, was that Shaman?
I picked up the badge, a small copper one with a photo of two women on the front and an inscription on the back that I wished I didn't recognize: Heatherlyn and Shaman will be best friends forever!
Holding the badge tightly, I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes. Was this Shaman, the only good friend who now wanted me dead—Countess Shaman?
When Lirad came again, I was struggling to dig up the soil next to the most vibrant roses in the garden. I wanted to exhume the body mentioned in the diary, but I failed.
Actually, I didn't entirely fail. Next to those roses, I found other bodies—the maids I thought Lirad had taken back. They were all impaled through the heart with wooden stakes, their deaths gruesome.
I never imagined that one of my decisions would lead to such an end for them. But it was a small comfort that the girl whose cheek I had scarred with my ring no longer had a bleeding wound.
"You shouldn't hold out hope for a diary from four hundred years ago."
Lirad seemed not to notice the garden I had ruined,***********, as he watched me vent my anger by shoveling off the head of the girl with the scarred face, before walking over to me, picking me up, and carrying me back to the room.
"Who was that girl?"
My voice trembled a little. I couldn't believe I had just done something so terrible to that girl, but at the time, there was a voice in my heart telling me I must do it, I must...
"She is the little princess of the Redno family. You probably don't remember." Lirad, expressionless, took off the dirty coat I was wearing, turned and took another blood-red long coat from the wardrobe, gently draped it over me, lowered his head and kissed my forehead, then slowly explained, "Over four hundred years ago, the Redno family tried to take you away from me. I wiped them all out, leaving only the little princess..."
My existence had caused so much discontent. Was I not a competent queen after all?
"Lirad..." I looked up at his chin, staring for a long time, "Were we happy before?"
"Yes." Lirad nodded vigorously, took my hand, and led me to the third floor of the house.
The third floor of the house had only one room, occupying the entire level.
The spacious room had no furniture but was filled with easels covered with white cloths.
"These are our past lives," Lirad pointed to the easels in the room, looking down at me, "Do you want to see them?"
How are these different from what's in the diary?
I gently freed myself from Lirad's grip, walked over to the nearest painting, and pulled off the cloth covering it.
The picture showed a red-eyed man tenderly looking at a little girl sleeping in his arms. The girl, about three or four years old, was fast asleep, seemingly having a beautiful dream. Her eyebrows curved with a deep smile, and there was a dribble of saliva at the corner of her mouth. The man reached out with a smile, seemingly intending to wipe away that drop of saliva.
I looked back at Lirad doubtfully. His eyes were a light green; the man in the picture had red eyes. Could they be the same person?
"That was when you were little," Lirad smiled as he pulled me into his embrace, pointing at the red-eyed man in the picture, and said softly, "At that time, I had just ascended to the throne, and my eyes were red like yours are now..."
"Why are they green now?" Those green eyes made my heart ache.
Lirad shook his head and said nothing. Instead, he pulled back another painting. In the picture were two red-eyed people, a man and a woman. The man sat at a piano, his long fingers on the black and white keys, looking at the dancing woman in the distance with a tender smile.
The dancing woman was clearly me, with the same innocent smile as in the badge, looking back at the man.
I didn't know why I, who seemed so innocent back then, would be friends with such an enchanting and seductive woman like Shaman, and I was the only friend. I also didn't know when we became less close.
But according to Lirad, before the wedding, she even painted a portrait for me. In the portrait, I was smiling happily. I think we should have been good friends at that time.
I put the copper badge on the bookshelf and subconsciously looked at the book in my hand. I frowned as I opened the pages.
It was a diary with elegant handwriting, revealing a little girl's feelings. This... must have been written by a woman.
- Writer
