52: Pulled into the shadow

Pulled into the shadow

A thank you to readers- Astrid_Nymp, Namelesone, Aoi_hoshi_cath and shiru who have been editing and proofreading the chapters of GOP for a smoother read <31

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When it was nighttime and everyone had retired to their rooms, hours after the moon had gone up in the sky, Anastasia woke up in her room with a soft gasp. Her body was wet with sweat. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her feet dangled in the air, and she sighed before covering her face with her hands, even though it was dark. 

Every night, she dreamed of seeing her sister, ready to escape various scenarios but never making it out. And she always woke from her dreams with her sister covered in blood. 

"I can't leave without knowing what happened to you that day. I can't," Anastasia whispered to herself. 

She could never live in peace without knowing why her sister had died. She wondered how much pain Marianne had been in even when she was dying, with the wounds she had received. 

Her hand reached out for the glass of water on the floor, but when she picked it up, she realised it was empty. Taking it with her, she made her way out of her room and into the kitchen. She poured herself some water from the pot, quenched her thirst and left. 

Anastasia was too engrossed in her thoughts to realise that she had failed to return to her room and had walked past the servants' quarters, only to end up near the Paradise Tower. She now stared at the stairs. She would always come here to meet and talk to her sister.

But when she got closer to the stairs, her eyes fell on the courtesan's head hanging at the front. With three days having passed since the coronation, the head had begun to shrivel and darken. The sight caught her off guard, and she parted her lips, only for her mouth to be covered by a large hand. 

Alarmed, Anastasia began to struggle, and the handhold turned firmer. She heard Dante's words brush against her ear. 

"You seem to enjoy walking in the night a little too much, don't you?" 

Anastasia felt Dante pull her back into the shadows, with his other hand wrapped around her waist from behind. Her cheeks burned bright, and she felt her back pressing on his firm chest. 

"Keep quiet."

Suddenly she heard someone's footsteps softly echo through the corridor before revealing King Maxwell, who had reached the bottom of the tower's stairs. Her eyebrows furrowed, wondering what he was doing here at this hour of the night. The king stared at the stairs for a long time, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to climb them, but instead, he turned away and walked back in the opposite direction he had come. 

Anastasia turned to ask Dante what was happening when she felt the air escape from her lungs, and her eyes grew wide. His eyes glowed in the dark like two flames. Her lips trembled, and she went to step out of the shadows and into the moonlight. 

When the footsteps were heard again, Dante's gloved hand reached for her hand, pulling her back into the dark. 

"Y—your eyes—"

Dante covered her mouth before she attracted attention, and he saw Maxwell walk back, passing the Paradise Tower as if to return to his room. 

Once the corridor was clear, Dante demanded, "What the hell are you doing here? Planning to have your head be the next to hang there?" And when he questioned her, Anastasia noticed his eyes glow brighter and getting scared, she stepped away from him. 

Was he a ghost? Anastasia asked herself, her face pale, and when she saw him step out of the shadows, his eyes were in their usual dark midnight hue. 

"I was… I came to get a drink of water," Anastasia whispered, still confirming what she just saw was real and that she was not half-asleep. When annoyance appeared in his eyes, she quickly continued, "I forgot my way back and ended up here." 

Dante had arrived here before she did, and he had noticed her staring at the stairs, similar to how his brother did earlier. She was in her faded, white, loose-fitting nightgown. Her usually smoothly-combed, tied-up hair was dishevelled now, with her braid resting on one of her shoulders. 

Anastasia noticed how he looked more annoyed than usual with her. But it wasn't because of her, or was it? Dante was irritated with himself for not only thinking there was water when it was only a mirage, but for looking for the water in a place where it didn't exist. 

Feeling him staring at her, Anastasia asked, turning in the direction that Maxwell had left, "What was that about? Was he just… walking by?" She could still feel the softness of his velvet gloves. 

"My brother has picked up the habit of walking at night like a ghost and I thought I would see what he was doing. People are up to no good at this hour of the night," Dante commented, his voice just low enough for her to hear. "Or are you planning your next escape once you deal with what happened to your sister?" 

Had the deceased king's ability transferred to him? Anastasia hoped not. But then, considering how he knew she had tried once already, this was only his guess. 

"Speak," Dante demanded as he noticed her wanting to speak, but holding back.

Trying to be brave, Anastasia asked him, "Would it be bad? One less maid wouldn't make a difference." 

For someone whom everyone believed couldn't speak, she sure had the nerve to ask, and a chuckle escaped from his lips, leaving her confused. Even after pointing a dagger at her neck, she still thought about it. Either she was very brave or utterly foolish. His face then turned serious with a hint of a glare, and he said, 

"I would like to see you try," Dante dared her, and Anastasia felt her throat turn dry even though she had just drank water. "I will make sure I am the one to bring you back and deliver the punishment you so desperately seek." 

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