Escape (15)
Escape (15)
After that, I ate only what Levina brought, spoke only to Levina, and read the books she gave me, each accompanied by a remark that she'd found it interesting.
The food was always good.
Levina came each day with a different servant, bearing new soups, freshly baked bread, and tender meat dishes.
Sometimes there were oddly shaped fruits I had never tasted, or sweet desserts she had added to the tray.
The time she spent in my room grew longer by increments.
At first she would set down the meal, say what she needed to say, and leave. Then one day she began sitting in a chair, waiting until I finished eating.
After that, she stayed well past the last bite, filling the silence with trivial chatter.
"A new opera opened in the capital today. Reviews are quite good, apparently. Shall we go see it together sometime?"
"I hired a painter — a skilled one. I was thinking of commissioning a portrait. I want to preserve how you look right now."
Whether I answered or not, she kept talking on her own.
Whenever I gave a nod or a short reply, something like a faint smile would surface on Levina's face.
Once, when I let slip that I was bored, a new bookcase appeared in my room the next day.
The shelves were crammed with novels.
Most of the books she gave me were romances.
A few of them, the ones that strayed into forbidden entanglements and more provocative territory, were mixed in — but they were readable enough in their own way.
The protagonists in those stories all ended up happy, no matter what they went through.
Unlike some people.
And occasionally, when Levina permitted it, I met Rineta for meals.
We would walk together through the greenhouse garden or along the back paths of the estate.
We told each other how we'd been passing the days.
We both avoided the subject of the village as much as possible.
As if it had never existed at all.
Today, too, we were walking through the greenhouse garden.
Rineta wore a pure white dress.
The long hem brushed the floor, swaying gently with every step she took.
"Ravin."
Mid-stride, Rineta asked without preamble.
"Are you happy?"
I stopped walking for a moment.
The greenhouse air, warm and humid, clung to my skin.
The scent of nameless flowers hung thick in the air.
I considered the question.
But, at the very least, I wasn't unhappy right now.
"When I'm with you."
That was my answer.
Rineta's face reddened faintly.
"Me too. Being with Ravin is my favorite thing, too."
She smiled, shy.
"If we'd met in the village, as ordinary people, we'd probably be married by now, wouldn't we?"
"Probably."
"We might have just gotten married, or maybe we'd already have a child. One or two. I'm good-natured, so I'd be the perfect wife — never once getting angry, accepting everything Ravin does."
We started walking again.
"It's all so lovely that I'm afraid it might vanish if things stay this way. Those days we spent together in the annex — they disappeared so fast, didn't they?"
Rineta gazed at the plants growing inside the greenhouse garden.
She reached out and stroked a fully bloomed blue petal with her fingertips.
"So I don't want to be forgotten by you forever, not when I'm at my most beautiful."
Her voice came low.
It was barely a whisper, but strangely, it registered with perfect clarity.
"Yeah. I'd like that."
"Oh, I just remembered — before we eat, I should go change."
"Do you need to? What you're wearing now looks nice."
"No, I got a little damp with sweat, it's... uncomfortable. Go ahead to the dining room. I'll be right there."
Rineta's face colored slightly as she spoke.
I said alright and headed toward the dining room.
The food was already laid out when I arrived.
Soup still trailing wisps of steam. A steak glossy with fat.
Just as Levina had promised, the meal was far more lavish than usual.
I took my seat and waited for Rineta.
She never came.
The soup cooled. The steak began to film over with pale, congealed grease.
I got up from my chair.
Maybe she'd stopped by the washroom. Somewhere along the way.
I headed toward her room.
Knock knock.
I rapped on the door.
No answer.
"Rineta? Are you in there?"
I knocked again and called her name, but the room gave back nothing.
She might still be picking out clothes. Or maybe she was exhausted and had fallen asleep the instant she walked in.
Creeeak.
The door swung open with a sound, and the scene inside met my eyes.
Rineta was dead.
From a decorative hook on the chandelier mount in the ceiling, a cord hung — thin cloth, braided into rope, scavenged from somewhere I couldn't guess.
And at the end of it, Rineta dangled, swaying.
Her bare feet traced slow arcs in the air.
To the right. Back to the left.
Like a compass needle that had lost its heading.
She wore the white dress.
Exactly as I had last seen her.
Her neck was bent at a grotesque angle. Her face had bloomed in patches — blood-dark crimson swelling mixed with blue.
Her tongue had slipped past her slightly parted lips and hung there, long and exposed.
Both eyes were wide open, aimed at the ceiling, but they held no focus.
Nothing like the clear eyes I had met in the greenhouse minutes ago. This was the luster of dead fish, already rotting.
Every time the wind nudged the window, her body swayed — barely, like a swing.
Screech. Screech.
The sound of the chandelier hook straining filled the room.
I stood there and took it in for a moment. Then I stepped back without a word, exited the room, and pulled the door shut.
The hallway was just me again.
The portraits on the walls kept staring down with their indifferent eyes.
I slumped against the door, back pressed to the wood, and slid down.
I couldn't breathe properly.
My chest was tight. My head spun.
I took a couple of breaths and knocked my skull against the wall — thud, thud.
I wrapped both hands around my head and hit the wall again.
Something was wrong.
I'd definitely seen wrong.
I mean, I'd been like that before. Maybe it was the old me overlapping — the one who used to hang from the ceiling.
Sometimes I saw hallucinations. Burning alive. Hanging dead. So maybe it was the madness flaring up again.
The stress Levina had been putting me through lately. That had to be it.
That was when a servant came walking from the far end of the corridor.
She pulled up short when she noticed me, then tried to pass with little more than a sideways glance, no greeting at all.
Her gaze was a blend of contempt and a sliver of fear.
I didn't appreciate her glaring at me with such open contempt.
I peeled my head off the wall, crossed the distance, and slapped her across the face.
The crack echoed down the hallway.
Her head snapped to the side.
A vivid handprint bloomed on her cheek.
"Get out."
The servant, face twisted in terror, fled stumbling as if escaping something feral.
Listening to her footsteps recede, I stood in front of Rineta's door again and paced in place.
Afraid to open it.
Afraid to see it again.
Because I wanted what I'd just seen to be a hallucination.
I don't know how much time passed.
I opened the door again.
The same scene. Nothing changed.
Rineta still hung there.
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me.
I dragged my hands down my face once.
A chair lay toppled on the floor.
The chair she must have climbed onto to hang herself.
I picked the chair up and set it upright.
Scrape.
The grating sound rang out, amplified.
Beside the chair, a pair of white heels lay scattered, as if she'd slipped them off.
I picked them up and placed them neatly side by side.
Then I climbed onto the chair.
Rineta's face was right in front of me.
A faint, fruit-like scent traced past my nose.
I wrapped one arm around Rineta's waist.
Not yet cold.
But no warmth lingered either.
With my free hand, I tried to loosen the rope around her neck.
It was cinched tight and wouldn't give. Tugging at the knot one-handed, I felt a fingernail snap and the skin tear, but the knot didn't budge.
I gave up on that and worked at it with both hands.
Rineta's full weight settled onto my arms.
She was heavy.
After a long struggle, I finally worked one of the knots loose.
The taut line slackened in an instant, and Rineta's body dropped with a dull thump.
Thud.
She crumpled to the floor.
I climbed down from the chair and looked at her where she had fallen.
I lifted Rineta into my arms.
She was lighter than I'd expected.
I laid her on the bed.
I stroked her face a few times, then closed her eyes for her — they were still open.
I had to sweep my fingers across her eyelids several times before they finally stayed shut.
I sat down beside her.
And I stared at nothing, pressing my palms hard against my own eyes.
In the dark, specks of color bloomed and faded. Over and over.
No tears came.
Somehow, sadness didn't come either.
I think I'd known, the day I met Rineta again, that this was coming.
After all, her eyes had looked exactly the same as mine did in the mirror.
Rineta got her wish.
I will never forget Rineta at her most beautiful.