The woman gently paused her embroidery and finally turned around.
Her gaze swept over Lioren from head to toe, lingering longer on his cloak—torn to shreds, seams coming apart, riddled with burn marks and cuts.
"Oh…" Her voice was soft, tinged with mild reproach. "Why is your outfit in such a sorry state?"
Lioren didn't answer right away.
He took another step forward, his voice dropping low, unable to hide the urgency:
Lioren
"Answer me. How is the child, Elly?"
The woman—Elly—bit her lip lightly. The hand holding the needle trembled, then slowly set the embroidery frame down.
Elly
"…Last week," she said, her voice strained,
"she was married off."
Lioren froze.
"…Married off?"
Elly
"As the sixth wife of a noble."
The air in the room seemed to congeal.
Lioren
"She's only… five years old."
His voice turned hoarse, so low it was almost soundless.
Elly lowered her head.
"I tried to protect her, but the master didn't want the shop's reputation ruined, so he—"
Lioren turned away, walked straight to the nearby bed, and dropped down onto it. Every other chair in the room was piled high with rolls of silk, leaving nowhere else to sit.
Lioren
(Maybe I should just kill all the nobles.)
The thought flashed through his mind—clear, sharp, utterly devoid of humor.
Seeing this, Elly hurried over, holding a cup of warm water. She offered it to him carefully, as if afraid he might shatter if touched too roughly.
Elly
"Drink this," she said quietly.
"Calm down first."
Lioren took the cup.
"…Thank you."
Elly sat down beside him on the bed.
"There's no need to thank me," she said, her voice softening.
"We're husband and wife, after all."
Lioren raised his hand and gently brushed her long hair back behind her ear.
Naturally white hair—rare and pure. A face so beautiful it could easily make others believe she belonged to an untainted world. And most striking of all… the long ears that twitched faintly—an unmistakable sign of elven blood.
(That's right.)
(We're husband and wife.)
(Elly is not a pure elf.)
Elly's gaze fell on his cloak—ragged, worn, covered in traces of battle.
She pouted, sulking.
"Honestly… you don't value my hard work at all."
Lioren replied softly.
"I'm sorry."
"I caused you trouble."
He removed the cloak and handed it to her.
Elly froze.
"You're… giving me the whole cloak?"
"…It's damaged in so many places."
Lioren curled his lips, half-joking, half-serious.
"Do you want me to take everything off too?"
"You really want to see your husband's body that badly?"
Elly
"You really are—!"
Her face flushed red as she turned away.
Lioren chuckled quietly. He looked at her face—so innocent, so pure it felt out of place in this world. Her long ears flicked up and down, betraying her emotions more clearly than words ever could.
Lioren
"Alright," he softened his tone.
"I'll stop teasing."
He undressed.
His body was revealed—crisscrossed with scars, old and new layered together, not a single place that could be called "unblemished."
Elly hurriedly covered her eyes.
"D-don't look!"
Yet her hand still reached for the cloak, and she quickly returned to the sewing table, beginning to mend each seam one by one.
Lioren watched her, lost in thought.
(Elves are a race of superior intellect and longevity, formidable in combat, living in deep connection with forests and sacred trees.)
(When the sacred trees lose their life, the elves gradually decline as well.)
(But Elly is different.)
(A half-elf.)
(A lifespan like humans.)
(No combat ability.)
(Clumsy. Timid.)
"…Elly," Lioren spoke up.
"Have you ever thought… that being a half-elf is a curse?"
(Elves are highly sought after as sexual slaves because they do not age and cannot become pregnant, whether pure elves or half-elves.)
Elly stopped sewing.
She thought for a moment, then answered softly:
Elly
"In the past… yes."
"I thought I was cursed from the moment I was born."
She looked up at him.
"But ever since I met you,"
"I don't think that anymore."
Lioren smiled—a rare, genuine smile.
He stepped closer and gently kissed her forehead.
Elly blushed.
Lioren returned to the bed, intending to rest for just a moment.
But at some point… he fell fast asleep.
Elly noticed, stopped sewing, and walked over, looking at him for a long time.
Elly
"Just what exactly…"
"have you been through?"
She lay down beside him and pulled his arm around herself.
Elly
"It's been so long since we slept together."
"…That's what married couples are supposed to do, right?"
In his dream, Lioren murmured softly:
"…Kiriel…"
Elly stiffened.
(Kiriel?)
(He's dreaming of her… not me?)
She felt sad, but not angry.
No resentment.
Only silence.
After a while, Lioren woke up.
(Did I fall asleep?)
(This place… is too peaceful.)
He tried to sit up—then stopped when he saw Elly asleep in his arms.
Lioren
"You live in a world so cruel and rotten to its core," he whispered.
"And yet you've kept your innocence."
"You're… truly special."
Some time later, Elly woke up.
Their eyes met.
She blushed and hurriedly sat up.
Lioren spoke softly,
"…It's been a long time,"
"since we slept together, hasn't it?"
Elly said nothing.
Lioren glanced toward the table—the cloak and clothes had been fully mended.
He picked them up.
"Thank you, Elly."
He kissed her forehead, then left.
I'll rewrite this scene with more dialogue, a slower rhythm at the beginning that gradually tightens toward the end, keeping the same bleak tone without going too far—so the final twist still lands cold and haunting.
---
In the shop hall
Lioren stepped out from the corridor leading to the private sewing room. The subdued bustle of the luxurious shop washed over him again—the rustle of fabric, customers chatting, the faint scent of perfume.
He looked around.
"Where did Kiriel go…"
She wasn't in the main display area.
He walked slowly along the rows of racks, passing by splendid dresses, his eyes still searching for a familiar figure.
"…That's strange."
---
In Elly's room
Elly had returned to her sewing table. The steady sound of the needle piercing fabric continued, familiar and unbroken, as though nothing in the world could disturb that small room.
Click.
The door opened.
Elly didn't look up, only spoke softly:
"Did you forget something?"
There was no reply.
She stopped, looked up.
The person standing in the doorway wasn't Lioren.
A black-haired girl stood there, her calm gaze suggesting she had belonged to this place for a long time.
Elly
"…Who are you?"
The girl closed the door behind her, her voice composed.
"I'm Kiriel."
Elly tilted her head.
"…Kiriel?"
Kiriel
"Lioren's lover."
The sewing needle fell onto the table.
Elly
"…His lover?"
Elly stood up abruptly—not in panic, but confusion. She looked Kiriel up and down, as if confirming this wasn't a joke.
"…Is that really true?"
Kiriel didn't deny it.
Elly remained silent for a long time, then suddenly stepped forward and took Kiriel's hand.
Elly
"Thank you."
Kiriel paused slightly.
"…Thank you?"
"Yes."
Elly smiled faintly, the smile entirely unforced.
"When he was asleep… he called your name."
"I was very surprised."
Kiriel frowned.
"…You're not angry?"
Elly shook her head.
"No."
"On the contrary… I feel relieved."
Kiriel studied her more closely.
"Relieved?"
Elly
"Because he can love."
"For Lioren, love is far too much of a luxury."
Elly let go of Kiriel's hand and turned back toward the sewing table.
"I've always blamed myself."
"For not being by his side more."
"But I can't leave this place."
Kiriel let out a soft laugh.
"You're truly strange."
"I don't know whether to call you kind… or foolish."
Elly didn't argue.
"Lioren says he likes my foolishness."
"He says… it's like a child who hasn't yet been tainted by the world."
Kiriel smiled.
"You really are interesting."
Elly smiled too, gently.
"So are you."
A silence stretched between them.
Then Kiriel spoke—her voice still as gentle as before:
"But you have to die."
Elly froze.
Kiriel said nothing more.
---
The door closed softly.
Inside the room, the rolls of white silk slowly soaked red, drop by drop, spreading like flowers blooming in silence.
---
Kiriel stepped into the hallway, her expression unchanged.
She smiled faintly, very faintly.
"Now we just wait until that moment."