18 The Forgotten Fragment

Alyssane staggered back, trying to rush out of the room. But she had barely reached the door when an iron grip closed around her ankle, making her crash down.

"Ngh―!" 

Alyssane tried to stand up.

The man dragged her towards him, all while he kept whispering apologies and his eyes grew wild with a frenzied desperation. 

"Please… please…"

She swallowed nervously.

Alyssane tried to push him away with her wavering strength, but he was too big and too powerful. Even when she managed to deflect the knight, she could not deter his grip from the hilt.

His whispers got more desperate.

"I must… I must…!" 

He clamped his large hand on her throat, shoving her down so hard a crippling pain snared throughout her body.

Alyssane could not move.

The lines between past and present blurred into a nightmarish distortion. The buried pain of that night crept back like a cursed shadow, along with the suffocating memories.

There were so many people, so many watched as she was being pecked apart piece by piece. No one cared enough to help her, no one came until she was left to die.

Alyssane watched the sharp dagger crash down, a tender voice caressing her soul, 'Why bother?'

But when the blade was barely an inch away from her heart, it nimbly slipped from his hand. His eyes became empty and unfocused, his face entirely white.

"Move," a cruel voice cut through the haze of her mind.

The whispers died, and the man, seemingly in a trance, backed away from Alyssane, his gaze never leaving whoever was behind her.

And Alyssane could not look away from him.

He was a giant man. His leg was twisted at an odd angle, the flesh on his bones mutilated throughout his body, and it was clear that half of his bones were not in the right places.

She watched him tremble, trying hard to not collapse, trying hard to fight whatever crazed compulsion crossed his mind. All her numbing thoughts grew silent for a moment, replaced by grief.

'What monster could do this to someone?'

Alyssane's mind reeled back to all those faint cries that kept her awake for nights, and how the air around the tavern was no longer the same… and just one word had the man shrink back away from everyone.

'Why…?'

She subconsciously curled her fingers, feeling a sudden numbing dread churn in her stomach. She remained frozen as the man was taken away, and the knights left too, but Kazmun remained.

Without a word, he walked towards her and offered his hand.

Alyssane shook her head.

She was not hurt, just in a pain that refused to cease. But when she rose, a cold heaviness rushed to her limbs, making her falter.

In an instant, Kazmun's arms were around her, and she could not understand what was wrong with her as Kazmun quietly guided her towards the bed, his touch surprisingly gentle.

She hardly kept up with his slow steps.

But he said nothing.

The clouds roared outside the windows, their thunderous rumble echoing with the heavy rain refusing to calm down like the beatings of her heart.

"Was it you?" She finally murmured when she sat on the bed, unable to look at him, "Did you make that man… like that?"

His gaze lingered on her, heavy but she could not tell why. Kazmun curtly responded, "We found him in that state."

She had nothing to say to that. Alyssane stared out of the window, lost in thought, as the storm raged on and on, the sound starkly contrasting all the creeping silence.

"You knew him," Kazmun stated after a while

"Barely," she whispered.

"He claimed otherwise."

"That's untrue," Alyssane frowned, confused.

Kazmun's voice was cold and distant, "You bought the poison from him given to you and Lord Chancellor."

Her eyes slightly widened, horror crossed her face as she glanced at him in disbelief, "No…"

But she was not sure.

Any memories of that night had not returned. She could recall nothing but the fragmented awareness of a long dream, and even that was still shrouded in mystery.

Kazmun slightly raised a brow, expression dark.

Alyssane wanted to say something more, prove her innocence. But no words came out.

'Are you sure you didn't do it?'

'Why would Markle lie about something like this?'

He was not her enemy. He didn't bother with anything but his trade.

They have only met a few times, and that too only to discuss a few unique flowers that deeply fascinated Alyssane. She never spent much time around him because she had to sneak back to the manor.

'Why would he lie?'

"I can't remember," She murmured in the end, averting her gaze to the never ending rain. A cold breeze gently brushed inside the room, leaving her limbs feeling more heavy and numb.

Kazmun only responded with a detached, "Rest," as he began to walk away. His steps were too loud for her, the unresolved tension between them louder.

And suddenly, she dreaded being left alone with herself.

"Kazmun," Alyssane quietly asked, her hands cold and clammy, "What happens now?"

He paused, "Nothing."

Her face clouded with confusion, "Why?"

"It's foolish to draw any conclusions when half the city is like this."

"I don't understand…"

There was a shadow of a muted fury crossing Kazmun's gaze before his eyes flickered to hers, "The Nightmare curse twists one's mind to extreme lengths. We can't simply discern truth and lies when it comes to those who might be cursed."

"Might be?"

"It's harder to recognize this time."

"Still," Alyssane's heart sank, "Am I not the easiest one to blame for Lord Chancellor's death?"

Kazmun silently watched her, a frown curving upon his lips.

Her voice lowered as she carefully continued, "I have seen commoners tortured and executed based on mere speculations when it came to crime against the crown."

"Is that so?" His gaze held a chilling stillness, and then there was a low chuckle as Kazmun added in an eerily calm voice.

"Rest assured, you're safe here as long as you are useful to me."