Chapter 37: At the Byrenhags’ Mercy (1)

Chapter 37 – At the Byrenhags’ Mercy (1)

Gris reached out for her silver fork and poked a piece of potato and brought it to her mouth. She hopes that by keeping her hands busy she might be able to conceal her anxiousness. She figured she at least had to eat to gain strength, she couldn’t look at Vianut so instead she casted her eyes elsewhere and quietly looked around the room.

The windows of the room gave the view of the north, which explained why the room was so dark. There was a cabinet behind her, and on it was a sculpture of a saint. On the right side of the room, its wall was adorned by two portraits, each portrait housed middle aged people one was a man and the other was a woman.

The portrait of the man surprisingly looked just like Vianut, Gris observed, that is if he was older however, the former’s face showed deep sorrow, he looked more somber than Vianut. Gris assumed he was the former Sir Byrenhag and Vianut’s father, Valdemar. She had seen his portrait before, by the lobby staircase, and so she seems to recognize his face.

Next to his portrait was of a woman, smiling as bright as a person can. She had a beautiful smile, Gris noted. Unlike the average woman in their town, the woman in the portrait had a small frame and was rather petite like Gris, as if she too had not been fed properly since childhood.

According to what Gris has heard, the late lady of the house died from pneumonia, meaning she suffered from poor health. She was even amazed that a sickly woman like her was able to give birth to two children.

Looking at the portraits, Gris suddenly recalled the portraits of her own parents which too were once hung on the walls of the palace of Grandia.

When she was young, she had thought her life as a princess, with all its responsibilities such as needing to appear fancy and elegant like a doll that was pleasing to the eyes, was rather suffocating. She remembered that she would return to her room after official events and pass the corridor where her parent’s portraits were displayed, in anger and then, she would complain to the girl who combed her hair about how tiring it was to be a princess. Gris smiled bitterly, recalling how unaware her younger self was of the privileges she had.

Come to think of it now, the girl who used to comb her hair was the oldest daughter of Count Tallulichi.

Now, she must be enjoying a luxurious life in the palace. That d*mn girl…

Gris felt the tears of anger when she imagined them celebrating their life at the palace at the cost of her family’s demise and could almost hear their laughter echoing in her ears. But her bitter musings stopped when she felt a cold gaze land on her.

Vianut was staring at her in deep contemplation. Gris feared that he may have read her emotions on her face and was now thinking she was pretending to be Yuliana, pretending to be saddened by the portraits of their dead parents.

Therefore, she realized that she had to stop. She had to stop missing her parents and the palace stolen from her by the Tallulichis if she did not want to be discovered.

Gris wet her lips with a glass of red wine.

The silence was unbearable, thankfully, Vianut finally spoke to her.

“Your portrait. It was new.”

He was talking about the painting she messed up yesterday. As she was thanking him in her mind for not asking about the lullaby, he continued talking to her in a sickening happy tone.

“I’ll give you a chance.” This sudden announcement left Gris speechless.

“You’re too good to kill.”

This time Gris was certain that Vianut was convinced she was a fake.

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To be honest, anybody who knew the real Yuliana would be suspicious of her, for she who once was violent enough to kill a dog, is now raising one with love. Moreover, her eye color was different and was caught singing a lullaby from a neighboring kingdom. There was no way Yuliana could have known of that song.

Realizing this was it for her, her heart started to race, and her throat dried up. Vianut felt smug at the fearful expression on her face.

“Your face. It’s quite pretty,” He told her, and Gris did not know how to respond. “Live as a mistress among nobles and feed yourself that way.”

It seemed to be the greatest mercy he could offer. Predicting the consequences if she rejected this, she went pale at the direction of this conversation.

It was clear to her that Vianut was giving her an opportunity or threatening her, to confess Stephan’s plan. However, Gris knew that if Vianut spares her, she will still die by the hands of another venomous man if she betrays him. It was not likely that Vianut would step up to protect a prostitute, who he may now view worse than an animal for pretending to be his sister.

Gris forced her lips shut to stop them from trembling. Vianut took a sip of water from a crystal glass and said in a low voice.

“You should accept it.”

She knew that Vianut had no plans of letting her have a choice. Rather what he was doing now was giving her one last chance in return for painting a funny portrait. If she didn’t tell him the truth, she might die in his own hands. Imagining her pale, bloody head hanging in the plaza, just like the King of Chateaux, Gris became nauseous and wanted to throw up.

But when she was about to hastily blurt out the truth, Stephan’s words lingered in her ears.

“If you attempt running away, just bear in mind that your head will be axed, along with the whores in the brothel you came from.”

It wasn’t difficult for Stephan to kill a couple of women. Adrianne, Marie, Claren, including others, will face death. What have they done wrong, except for being forced to live a life they didn’t choose?

There shouldn’t be more blood spilled just to save her life.

As she let out a sorrowful sigh, Vianut lazily placed down a fork. “Time’s ticking.” He told her but Gris remained silent.

“How long do you think my patience will last?” Vianut was starting to get annoyed by her lack of response.

Vianut, didn’t have much interest in women, and was already being incredibly generous for inviting her for a private meal with him. Her not responding to him now, was a clear sign of disrespect.

But Gris couldn’t accept his generosity even when it was clear she was offending him with her silence. If she infuriated him, it was only going to be her life at risk but if she infuriates Stephan, that will result in others’ lives at risk as well.

Vianut realized that Gris was determined to keep her mouth shut. She wasn’t going to answer him even if it means she was to die. He let out a high-pitched laugh, and Gris knew that his laugh didn’t carry any mirth. As soon as he finished laughing, he reached out and slid his fingers between the stem of his wine glass and took a sip.

“It was nice eating with you.”

His final offer for her to confess was finished, just like that.

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