Shadows of the Night, the Watcher's Eye
As the night deepened, the corridors of the Feast sank into an even more eerie silence. Under the dim lamps and the damp smell of dust, the long shadows cast upon the walls writhed like living creatures, twisting and tangling together as if searching for the secrets hidden within the hallways. Luciel walked quietly down the corridor, unable to sleep, thinking she might fetch a glass of water. Although her VIP suite was always fully stocked with refreshments, tonight she felt a strange, suffocating urge to escape the confines of her room.
'Damn it. To think I'd be suffering from insomnia even in a place like this. Maybe it would be better to just lose myself in entertaining clients. At least then, there wouldn't be any room for useless thoughts like ghosts of the past or anxiety about the future. Yes, for the sake of my revenge, I must keep my wits about me.'
Just then, a sound—faint but distinct, like a beast catching its breath—echoed from the darkness. Luciel froze, her instincts instantly putting her entire body on high alert.
'What is that? A ghost?'
She felt every bone in her body stiffen with tension. Her survival instincts, forged through countless assassination attempts and surprise attacks during her reign as Emperor, were screaming a sharp warning.
"Who's there?"
Her voice was low, but it carried an icy chill and an overbearing pressure meant to dominate her opponent. Yet, only silence answered. The dim lamp flickered, casting her shadow in a distorted, uneasy sway.
At that exact moment, a silhouette perfectly blended into the darkness detached itself from the wall as silently as a shadow. Even in the pitch-black corridor where not a single ray of moonlight reached, her short, pale-gray hair stood out. Her eyes were half-closed, lazy and unreadable, and her lips were curled into a subtle, lopsided smirk. It was Elberta.
Having made absolutely no sound, she stood there with her hands clasped behind her back, staring blankly at Luciel as if she had been part of the wall all along. She looked like a hungry wildcat that had been waiting in the dark for its prey for a very long time—watching, waiting for the slightest opening without making a single sound, scent, or movement.
"You startled me, Elberta. You could at least make some noise. What are you doing out here at this hour?" Luciel spoke first, her voice clearly strained as she tried to maintain her composure.
Elberta slowly opened her narrowed eyes, her smirk widening slightly. Her smile was somewhat chilling, yet laced with mischief.
"Maybe you walk too quietly, Luciel. Or maybe... I was just too quiet." Elberta's voice was lazy and soft, like a cat blending into the silence of the night, but the sharp edge hidden beneath it was impossible to ignore.
"So, what were you doing in a pitch-black corridor at this hour? Were you comforting some poor, sleepless soul?" Luciel asked, unable to hide her suspicion and wariness.
"Who knows? A night walk? Or maybe... inhaling the scent of the night."
"Is there actually a scent worth smelling in a musty, damp corridor like this?"
Elberta merely shrugged, brushing off Luciel's question and avoiding a direct answer. A heavy, awkward silence fell between them. The dim lamp flickered, casting strange shadows across their faces.
"Have you been standing here long?" Luciel asked, breaking the silence once more.
"Yeah. Quite a while. The smell of this corridor changes when night falls. During the day, it's a pungent mix of cheap perfume, the disgusting sweat of men, and the stench of despair and resignation. But at night, those fade, and more fundamental scents reveal themselves. Things like fear, secrets, and hidden desires. Much purer, more honest scents." Elberta murmured the cryptic words like a poem.
Her yellow eyes looked hazy, but Luciel could read the sharp observation and cold calculation within them—like a predator determined not to miss the slightest breath or the most microscopic twitch of its prey's muscles.
"So, did you smell something on me? You talk as if you've uncovered some secret I don't even know about." Luciel asked bluntly. Her voice had grown sharp without her realizing it.
"There's something I'm curious about. Very curious." Elberta said in a lazy voice, finally getting to the point.
"What is it? Stop beating around the bush and just say it."
Elberta tilted her head, then suddenly stepped closer to Luciel as silently as a ghost. She began to sniff her from head to toe, very slowly, as if inspecting the scent of a rare animal she had never seen before. Luciel could feel Elberta's breath brushing against the nape of her neck.
"Hey, Elberta... what do you think you're doing?" Frowning with a mix of embarrassment and instinctive discomfort, Luciel took a step back.
"I smell it," Elberta whispered softly, yet with absolute certainty. Her voice tickled Luciel's ear like a serpent's tongue.
"What smell? I bathe every single day! There must be something wrong with your nose!"
"No, not a simple smell like that. You have a very special scent. It's incredibly intense, terribly alluring, and yet dangerous at the same time. The kind of scent you can never smell on any of the other girls."
Talking to Elberta always seemed to give Luciel a headache. Her words were always riddles, and deciphering her true intentions was next to impossible. Luciel didn't want to continue this bizarre conversation any longer. Her plan to get a glass of water had long since vanished from her mind.
"I'm tired, so I'm going back in. You should stop your night walk and get some sleep too." Luciel gave a blunt farewell, turned the corner of the corridor, and headed back to her room. The gaze she felt on her back from Elberta prickled like sharp claws scratching at her skin.
Elberta lowered her head slightly without a word. Once Luciel rounded the corner and vanished completely from sight, Elberta shifted her gaze with feline grace. She whispered to herself, yet in a very distinct tone. Her voice carried a strange sense of satisfaction, along with something akin to a chilling prophecy.
"Yes, that scent definitely hasn't completely faded yet. It's soaked deep, all the way into your soul. Intriguing. Very intriguing. It's going to be quite entertaining to watch whether you bring about ruin or salvation."
She raised her head and slipped back into the shadows without leaving so much as a footstep, as if merging with the darkness itself. Her gaze was like that of a watcher who saw through everything.
The moment Luciel opened her door and stepped inside, a high-pitched voice suddenly rang out from the darkness.
"Ta-da!"
At the same time, something soft and small rushed forward like an arrow and clung to her leg. It was Sia.
"Good grief! You nearly gave me a heart attack, you brat!" Luciel shouted, clutching her chest. Sia must have been hiding in the room without even turning on the lights.
"Huh? A heart attack? Sister, do you have some kind of heart disease?" Sia opened her large eyes wide, looking genuinely worried. Tears welled up in her eyes instantly, as if she were about to burst into tears at any moment.
"No, you silly girl! That's not what I meant! I just meant you scared me half to death! What a dummy!" Luciel barely managed to hold back her laughter at Sia's absurd innocence and exaggerated worry as she stroked the girl's hair. This child's mind was truly an unpredictable maze. Sometimes her innocence was suffocating, but at the same time, she was the only source of comfort in this living hell.
"So, when did you sneak into my room? And without the owner's permission, no less. Do you think this is your personal playground?" Luciel asked in a feigned stern voice, but a warm smile already danced in her eyes.
"Ehehe, I wanted to sleep with you, Sister! For some reason, I felt scared and lonely sleeping by myself tonight. Your arms are the warmest and safest place in the world." Sia smiled brightly, clinging even tighter to Luciel and wrapping her arms around her waist.
Luciel let out a small, helpless sigh, but she didn't dislike it. In fact, this tiny bit of warmth seemed to wash away the discomfort left by the cold, damp air of the corridor and Elberta's inscrutable gaze.
'My arms are safe? Hmph. If you knew how dangerous I truly am, you wouldn't say such things. If you knew the path I walked was stained with blood, if you knew how many lives have been snuffed out by my hands, would you still follow me like this? But for now, let me be a safe haven for this child. I don't want to lose even this tiny bit of warmth.'
Holding Sia in her arms, she lay down on the bed. Their warmth mingled gently, offering a pleasant solace. Sia's even breathing echoed softly in her ear. For the first time in a very long while, if only for a brief moment, Luciel felt at peace. She even fell under the illusion that this child's purity was purifying her own soul.
Holding each other tight, the two of them laid down the heavy burden of their exhausting day and quietly fell asleep. Before drifting off, Luciel gently stroked the hair of Sia—the only person in this hell who might truly, genuinely believe in her.
Embracing Sia's small body in the darkness, Luciel whispered softly into her ear.
"Sia, let's just stay like this tonight."
There was a subtle tremor in Luciel's voice, unlike her usual self, carrying a hint of some quiet resolve.
Sia snuggled deeper into Luciel's chest and replied in a small voice.
"Yes, Sister. I'd love that."
That night, somewhere in the pitch-black corridors of the Feast, Elberta's shadow roamed like a ghost, moving as silently as a cat. Her glowing yellow eyes remained fixed—persistently, unblinkingly—on the door to Luciel's room. Like a loyal guardian protecting an ark containing a crucial secret, or perhaps a cunning grave robber eyeing that very same ark. Only she would ever know the true meaning behind that gaze.