Chapter 4: Lost Princess (2)

Chapter 4 – Lost Princess (2)

“I don’t remember where I was before I came here. I lost my memory when I hurt my head,” Gris said as she pushed her hair away from her face to reveal a scar on her forehead. The man quietly looked at her disfigured skin and opened his mouth.

“You don’t remember any of your family members?”

Gris nodded ruefully. The truth was after the murder of her parents, her grandmother had collapsed from shock and shortly died. Her sister and younger brother had gruesome ends themselves, having been locked in separate towers to starve to their deaths brutally.

“Yes. I believe they have all died… If one of them were alive, they would have come to find me.” The words that slipped through her lips were both truths and lies.

Gris was expecting monotonous condolence from the stranger, yet the moment she had finished her statement, he merely flashed a smile of relief. It was when she grasped that the man before her was a wicked snake hiding his true intentions and not a weak, hungry wolf.

“They charged me more than the normal due to the circumstance that you are still a virgin. Is that a folly?”

Billton was a trickster; he would do anything to rip off his customers at the expense of others, so this didn’t come as a surprise to Gris. But she was livid that her virginity, which she had fervently protected by scrubbing the floors with her blistered hands, was given away so quickly with a word from Billton’s sleazy mouth.

Gris let out a long sigh. But the man interpreted her silence as a ‘no.’ He laughed, sarcastic and cold, as he leaned on the table to rest his chin on his hand.

“Well, I was naive to believe that a person in this place would be a virgin. How many men have you slept with?”

Gris remained silent. The situation was proceeding at an unprecedented pace, and she didn’t know if lying or telling the truth would be the best course of action.

The man, seeing her closed lips, waved his hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. You won’t have to live like this anymore.”

I won’t have to live like this anymore? Gris couldn’t comprehend his words. Her eyes cut through the chilly air to bore into the stranger before her. The man level headedly held her gaze for a couple of moments and finally got to the point.

“I once had a niece. A child named Yuliana, but she went missing in the forests of Byrenhag,” he started.

“….”

“I have been looking for her ever since, but to no avail. I was almost certain that she was dead, when…”

The man’s words trailed off, his gaze flitting towards Gris’ gray locks.

“…When I saw you. The first moment I laid my eyes upon you, I could see Yuliana cry out my name, running towards me. She was only three years younger than me, and we were inseparable as children.”

Is this the reason then why he inquired about my hair and eye color, she thought, curious and a hint of respite finally settling on her bones.

Gris was relieved that this stranger came for a bizarre reason. If he was looking for his niece, she suspected he wouldn’t sleep with a woman that looked like her. The scenario had turned out to be fortunate for her, as it meant that she could keep her virginity for a while longer…

After the quick comfort, what followed next was immense grief. Oh, how wonderful it would be if Gris were truly that Yuliana. Perhaps it would be her ticket out of the whorehouse and end to this pitiful life.

Outlandish thoughts come with desperation. Gris instantly had the twisted idea to pretend as Yuliana if it means an escape out of this hell hole.

But… she shouldn’t. She couldn’t. This Yuliana might be out there, scared and alone, waiting with bated hopes for her uncle to find her…

The thoughts flew out her mind in succession, yet her heart finally steadied with her resolution. Gris pulled on her skirt uneasily and finally looked up the man. Although she was frantic to get out of here, she was determined to stick to her morals. She wouldn’t lie to this man who had lost a family.

“I apologize, sir. I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but… I am not the Yuliana you are searching for.”

Gris naturally couldn’t see her face without a mirror, but she knew, without a doubt, a sense of mild frustration was evident on features. As much as she felt she did the right thing, she couldn’t turn a blind eye to how she let the only opportunity to escape in eleven years, slip through her hands.

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“Why?” he simply asked in return.

Gris thought the query stemmed from her resoluteness on denying she was Yuliana, when after all, she had lost her memory. Although she wanted to divulge that she could remember every detail of her childhood as if it were yesterday, she closed her eyes instead and swallowed the words that threatened to escape from her lips.

There was no guarantee he would help her if he found out her secret.

“I don’t recognize you at all, sir.”

The man smirked as if he found her amusing.

“Stephan Van Byrenhag. You don’t recognize my name?”

Gris almost stopped breathing. She searched the words in her mind for familiarity: Byrenhag, Byrenhag….

Indeed, Gris had heard mentions of the Byrenhags numerous times while working here. A prestigious family, the Byrenhags owned a vast amount of land in the neighborhood. People worshiped the Byrenhags, the royal family of Nordvaltz.

Gris was beyond amazed—a  man of excellent lineage, of which she had only heard in drunken stories and boisterous chatter, was now standing before her eyes.

“Sir,” Gris mustered her voice to be firmer. “I have heard of your great family, a legend that descended from generation to generation. However, I still go by my earlier statement—your name is unfamiliar to me. I don’t think I have ever heard of it before.”

If Gris rubbed him in the wrong way, she could very well live a more miserable life than the current one. And the moment a frown graced his face, she grew so anxious and tensed, feeling as if her body could faint any minute.

“No, I’m quite assured that you are Yuliana.”

For some reason, the man was relentless about believing that the lady standing before him was his lost niece. But whichever family he came from, prominent or common, Gris could only still give him one answer.

“I’m sorry, sir. I do not remember you. I am not Yuliana.”

The man let out a cheeky grin. Gris didn’t expect people who were looking for lost family members to feel forlorn all the time, but she found it quite startling, and disturbing, that a smile was spreading on his face.

“It honestly surprises me that you can still be upright in a place like this.”

Is he praising her now for being frank? Or was it a sarcastic jest for being a fool to let the silver platter clatter to the ground?

Gris’ fists balled at her sides, her fingers clutching tightly to her coarse skirt.

“…I am only saying such because I am not her.”

Despite her constant denial, there was still a humorous glint in his eyes. The man carefully inspected her from all sides, her side profile and frame from top to bottom. Only when he was satisfied with his observation did he finally rise from his seat.

What is he thinking? Is he genuinely looking for his niece? Her thoughts were in disarray, panic creeping up her chest when he finally uttered something.

“Well, I still want to confirm it properly. Outside of this place.”

“…”

“I’m taking you to grandmother. If she doesn’t recognize you as Yuliana, then you can return here.”

The man left with the following words. In her stupor, Gris could only hear the creak of the door and his footsteps growing distant too late. Or grasp the fact that she had narrowly escaped a brutal night of losing her virginity to an unknown man.

Ten minutes later, more stunning news welcomed her. Words that she had been dreaming off echoed in her ears… she was going out of the brothel for a trip.

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