chapter 02
“Aaaah!”
Desdemona let out a sharp scream when she was suddenly attacked.
She tried to pull her hand back, but the man would not let go once he had bitten her.
‘Even if he’s still just a pup, he’s still a Beringham, is that it?’
He really was faithful to his setting.
Inside her mask, Fiorentia let out a small laugh without meaning to.
Even though the sound was so quiet it could barely be heard, the man seemed to notice.
Still biting Desdemona’s hand, he rolled his eyes and looked straight at Fiorentia.
At that moment, she felt as if she had been caught in a trap.
His blue eyes felt like they were choking her.
‘Ah…’
Her mouth went dry, and she stopped breathing.
With slightly trembling fingers, she touched her face.
Instead of soft, smooth skin, she felt the hard, cold surface of her mask.
Only then did she relax a little.
‘How stupid. I’m wearing a mask. How could he possibly see my face?’
Meanwhile, Desdemona still couldn’t pull her hand free and kept screaming.
She even stomped her feet like a child.
“Is this thing really a mad dog? Let go! Let go right now!”
The man seemed to bite down even harder, and Desdemona screamed again.
Fiorentia finally let out the breath she had been holding and quickly looked away from him.
Only then did she notice Desdemona’s pale, twisted face.
She was still struggling to pull her hand out of the man’s mouth.
With a half-crying voice, Desdemona shouted angrily,
“Are you just going to stand there and watch? Pull him off me right now!”
At her order, two guards hurried over.
“You bastard!”
One grabbed the man’s shoulder, and the other pulled his hair, yanking his head back.
They were rough and merciless, probably afraid of being punished by Desdemona later if they weren’t.
“Ugh!”
The man, who had been biting as if he wanted to tear her hand off, was finally forced to let go.
“He really is a mad dog.”
Desdemona clutched her bitten hand.
Clear teeth marks were deeply pressed into her skin, and blood was flowing.
“Ah…”
She groaned.
‘That must hurt.’
Fiorentia frowned slightly under her mask when she saw the wound clearly.
But that was all she felt.
‘Am I even in a position to pity someone?’
Compared to her own situation, Desdemona wasn’t the one to be pitied. And besides, this injury was something she had brought on herself.
‘You reap what you sow.’
Desdemona, however, seemed even angrier when she saw the blood pouring from her hand.
“You damn bastard!”
Grinding her teeth, she raised her uninjured hand and slapped the man across the face.
Smack!
“How dare you—!”
Smack!
The sharp sound rang out again and again.
Just moments ago, she had acted as if she would give him anything he wanted. Now she looked like a demon from hell.
“I was going to cherish you and treat you well! How dare someone like you bite me!”
With burning eyes, Desdemona kept hitting him.
“From the moment you were caught, you’re my dog! I’m your master!”
She poured both violence and rage onto the man who rejected her attention with his whole being.
Perhaps because of the curse mark placed on him, the man no longer had the strength to resist.
Even after his large body collapsed to the side, Desdemona couldn’t control her anger.
When she could no longer hit his face, she lifted her dress to reveal her ankle and began kicking and stomping on him with her shoes.
“I was going to treat you nicely! I’ll use you as an experiment and kill you!”
Her hair had become completely messy.
No one dared to stop her.
‘At this rate, he’ll die before I can even help him escape.’
In the end, Fiorentia stepped forward.
“Sister, please stop now.”
“…What?”
Desdemona turned her dark red eyes toward her, breathing heavily.
‘She could kill someone with that look.’
Fiorentia calmly met her furious gaze and said,
“You said he was hard to obtain. Wouldn’t it be a problem if he died?”
The word “die” seemed to pull Desdemona back to her senses.
She let out a long breath and brushed her messy hair back with her good hand.
“That’s true. It would be troublesome if he died.”
Her eyes were still angry, but her voice was calmer now.
Fiorentia spoke in a tone that sounded concerned.
“And first, you should treat your hand.”
Desdemona looked down.
Because she had been swinging it wildly, the bleeding was worse than before.
“I’m worried it might leave a scar on your beautiful hand.”
Desdemona’s face twisted further.
Extreme self-love, self-pity, and deep insecurity—those words described her perfectly.
She might not love her appearance, but she certainly wouldn’t tolerate a scar.
As Fiorentia expected, Desdemona stopped hitting the man.
The man lay unconscious on the floor. His large body looked even bigger now that he wasn’t curled up defensively.
Only then did Desdemona roughly pull her hand away from Fiorentia’s support.
Fiorentia didn’t look hurt. She simply folded her hands politely in front of her.
Before the unconscious man could receive even harsher punishment, she thought it would be better to move him away.
“By the way, Sister.”
Fiorentia carefully spoke again, trying not to irritate her.
“If you would allow it.”
“…?”
“I will take care of this beast.”
Desdemona, who had half turned away, spun back sharply.
She raised one eyebrow, clearly displeased.
Pressing a handkerchief against her wound, she asked,
“…You?”
Fiorentia had always lived quietly, like she didn’t exist. She had learned through long experience that it was safer not to provoke Desdemona.
Desdemona had often dragged her along when doing cruel things, just to make her afraid. That had made Fiorentia even more timid.
So it was unusual for her to step forward like this.
‘What is she planning?’
Desdemona narrowed her eyes.
But since Fiorentia was wearing the mask Desdemona herself had given her, it was hard to read her expression.
“What do you mean by taking care of him yourself?”
“I plan to treat him.”
Her voice sounded slightly muffled because of the mask.
Desdemona questioned her harshly.
“Treat him? Why would you?”
She threw the bloodstained handkerchief aside and stared at Fiorentia’s mask suspiciously.
Fiorentia lowered her eyes so she wouldn’t give anything away.
“He seems to be something precious to you. You may want to punish him, but not kill him… And not many people know about his existence.”
Desdemona raised one eyebrow.
Fiorentia—beautiful, but timid and somewhat lacking—was speaking clearly and logically in front of her for the first time in a long while.
It felt strange.
Desdemona gestured for her to continue.
“It wouldn’t make sense for you to personally treat his wounds. The head maid and the butler are too busy. And I doubt the guards would care for him properly.”
“…Hmm.”
“So wouldn’t I be the right person?”
Desdemona’s suspicious gaze slowly scanned Fiorentia from head to toe.
