The Nightmare Named Daisy

Why did they bring me here?

Frédéric could not tear his trembling gaze from the soldiers lined up before him.

Was it execution they planned?

Nowhere to hide his body on the open field. The tank station and small village were visible behind him, but far too distant to flee. Besides, walking was nearly impossible after the torture he had endured all night yesterday; every inch of him was raw.

Soon a black sedan slid in smoothly and halted behind the soldiers. The front passenger door opened and Campbell stepped out, then the rear one.

Winston emerged from the back seat. The way he approached was like a sleek, lethal black leopard. Frédéric held his breath.

The shining black leather shoes stepped heavily on the dew-wet grass two paces ahead and stopped.

Winston stood with hands behind his back, staring at Frédéric. The pale irises were tinged with the first red light of dawn. In that moment Frédéric thought: those red eyes must be the true face of that demon.

The demon said nothing. As silence stretched, Frédéric’s imagination spiraled into the worst possible nightmare.

They had brought him here to force the location of the hidden base. If he refused, they would kill him. Why else drag him out to the open field? Human hunting?

He had not revealed the base’s position no matter what. They might do the same to his sister.

But if they kill me here, what then?

Just then, trembling with terror and chattering teeth, a conflict tore through him.

“I’ll let you live and send you away.”

Leon’s mouth curved into a mocking half-smile. His eyes did not smile.

The terrified mouse trembled until the promise of rescue made it visibly relax. It was ready to drop to its knees and lick boots.

Grace did not ask what had become of her. She had sold herself for a cowardly life.

Useless, dependent, selfish. The most hated human form of all.

He wanted to change his heart.

“But there is a condition.”

Still, the man was useful.

“If you promise to carry out the mission I entrust to you perfectly.”

“Yes, yes. Just give me anything…”

Leon offered a small wrapped parcel to the sly coward. The brown wrapping bore the sender’s name—Leon Winston—and the recipient’s—James “Little Jimmy” Blanchard Jr.

“Deliver this to your captain.”

The man would understand that underestimating him had been a fatal mistake.

Hands raw from torn nails clutched the parcel, shaking. He stared with swollen, unfocused eyes, then dragged his legs and began retreating slowly backward.

He feared that if he turned around a bullet might strike his skull. Leon smiled and pointed far toward the tank station.

“Go now.”

The man sighed in relief and turned his back. Watching the despicable rat hobble across the field, Leon opened his holster and drew his pistol.

Crack.

“Aaaah!”

“Haha.”

Pathetic. The bullet had struck a wildflower just behind him; the man toppled as if shot, limbs twitching.

Soon he was crawling on all fours like an animal, fleeing across the dirt. Leon amused himself by firing a few warning shots into the air above the fleeing head.

“Campbell.”

“Yes.”

“Track him. Do not lose him. After he has served his purpose, dispose of him cleanly.”

“Yes, without error.”

Grace stared blankly at the empty soup bowl, then gave a weak, broken laugh.

My situation really…

The second lieutenant had brought her the thin vegetable soup made from leftovers, calling it breakfast. The same menu she had always served the “interrogation guest.”

Only onion roots and carrot tops. A single bowl sat on the tray. The “Sally” who used to bring bread or hard-boiled eggs was gone.

No one slipped morphine into her mouth anymore.

Her lower belly throbbed. Her thighs pulled and her bruised knees ached. Every time she breathed, the raw nipple rubbed against the bra, making her wince.

The soup remained lukewarm. She finally lay back on the bed. She was grateful for the spare sheets in the wardrobe; she would never sleep on filthy ones no matter how exhausted she was.

Human habits were terrifying. Or perhaps she simply had extraordinary resilience.

After Winston left last night, she had kept herself busy until breakfast arrived—changing the sheets completely, wiping every trace, scrubbing the faint stains that remained.

The contradiction made her laugh or cry: the maid who had once scrubbed the marks left by torture was now the one who had been tortured.

She tried to erase the remaining traces but it was impossible.

Sticky semen and dried blood washed away, revealing every bruise and fingerprint more clearly than before.

There was more. Winston’s scent still lingered at the edge of her nose. It should have been gone from this bed and her body.

Whenever she shuddered at the ghost-like presence, even her own ragged breathing seemed to float in her ears.

So she closed her eyes tightly and the memories unfolded vividly: the face and naked body of the man who had crushed her beneath the victor’s overwhelming joy.

“He makes my breasts drip like this.”

Suddenly one of last night’s disgusting moments returned.

He had pressed the slit at the tip of his sex against her nipple and spurted thick, honey-like semen. The viscous fluid piled on her flat breast and overflowed onto the pointed nipple, sliding down the gentle slope of her chest.

Winston had laughed, mocking her, calling it “dripping breasts.”

He had never looked that crude even in the brothel.

“Ah!”

Grace instinctively covered her chest with both arms. Her body jerked. Even the lightest touch through two layers of clothing sent pain shooting through her nipples.

All night long Winston had tormented them, so the swollen flesh would not return to its original gentle shape and stayed painfully rigid.

She rose from the bed and opened the suitcase. The thick cardigan hid the protruding nipple shape, but she still searched anyway.

The second lieutenant who had brought breakfast yesterday had carried her luggage too. They must have opened it and inspected. She was glad nothing important had been inside.

What is this…

Nothing was missing, yet something was wrong. The high-quality stocking box she had left in the drawer at the maid’s room had somehow ended up in the suitcase. The soldier must have mistaken it for her belongings.

This is Winston’s.

She set the box on the iron table in the center of the room, then lay back down.

“Ugh… haa…”

Her entire body screamed, but her mind stayed strangely calm.

Yesterday I thought I was going to die…

Today her heart was strangely steady. Was she giving up, or had she been trained?

Everyone knew calm followed the storm, but Grace already knew the storm had only just begun.

Don’t shake.

She might suffer even worse pain today.

Grace chewed on every selfish thought that had flashed through her shattered mind last night and scolded herself.

Mental strength crumbled with time. Only two days had passed; she could not collapse now.

Don’t shake. Don’t shake.

She was repeating the mantra when someone knocked on the iron door.

Strange. The door to the interrogation room never allowed knocking. Everyone treated it as a place without privacy, so they simply kicked it open.

Thinking back, the second lieutenant had knocked earlier too.

What is this? Are they showing special courtesy to women?

Grace sat up and answered.

“Yes, come in.”

Haha. A hollow laugh escaped. What cruel joke was this? Answering as if the room were her own.

The door opened and Captain Campbell appeared.

“Sit.”

He pointed to the iron table with the folder in hand. Grace sat on the handcuffed chair and glanced at the officer across from her.

You already know everything that happened yesterday?

She wet her parched lips and pulled the frill collar higher to hide her throat. She already knew, but there was no need to show the officer every explicit detail.

Meeting his eyes directly was embarrassing. Campbell seemed to feel the same; he avoided her gaze and began reading the folder labeled “Grace Riddle.”

“Father, Jonathan Riddle.”

“Yes.”

“Mother, Angela Riddle.”

“Yes.”

After confirming the identity, he asked if she confessed to the charges.

“Unauthorized entry into Winston’s military headquarters. Do you confess?”

“Yes.”

This was the standard procedure before any formal interrogation. Grace relaxed when Campbell followed the routine.

Winston would report her arrest at Western Command today. Because of the Riddles, she was classified as a Level 1 threat. The higher-ups wanted eyes on her.

Being a “big fish” was annoying, yet also useful.

Many officers would interrogate one woman. Countless eyes would watch her. Winston, who valued noble dignity, would not act like a rabid dog toward her.

She might even be transferred to Western Command. Interrogations were never conducted on women here—that was Winston’s principle.

Please…

Whether to Western Command or a prison, she prayed to be gone within days.

If Winston had kept his promise and freed Frédéric, a message would reach Jimmy by today. Then a rescue unit would be assembled to save her during transport.

She only needed to leave this estate.

“What happened to Frédéric?”

Campbell nodded, as if that was proof he had been released, and muttered.

“Captain Winston is a gentleman who keeps promises to ladies.”

Grace bit her lip to hold back a sarcastic smile.

Gentleman? How laughable. Was he mocking?

But that tone felt nothing like mockery.

Did he have his brain washed? He must have heard every vulgar thing that had slipped out of the room yesterday.

Well… that gentleman called me a whore.

Campbell’s eyes curved in a sly smile as he looked at the spy. He was actually suppressing the urge to spit the word “whore.”

The only reason he treated the woman with such respect was fear of Captain Winston.

Rat, interrogation guest, brat, fool. Winston always mocked the Blanchard rebels that way, yet he had never called her anything but “Riddle” in a plain, normal tone.

Campbell had not yet figured out why, but he had recalled Winston’s face when Wilkin had revealed Sally’s true identity.

Leon Winston with a heartbroken look.

What is he trying to do, liking a spy?

Even more surprising, the man who had seemed farthest from women.

But Campbell had no need to intervene; the captain already knew.

Men—especially soldiers—forgot the women they conquered. Still, calling her a whore when she had not yet been sorted out would only draw Campbell’s attention. So he had ordered the lower soldiers to treat Grace Riddle with proper respect.

But this woman…

“Why do you call me ‘lady,’ Captain Campbell? Using honorifics and knocking are unusual behavior for treating a spy.”

She deliberately provoked him by calling her a whore again.

She refused to let one fox dull her future just because Winston would send her to prison soon.

“Hey, stop planting doubts.”

The officer, unable to contain himself, issued a threat. The woman tilted her head.

“Planting doubts? So if I told Captain that you insulted him as a whore, you would be the one who earned his hatred? Why?”

“The questions are mine.”

But the woman ignored him.

“Ah, if that’s the logic, it would be more effective to say I tried to seduce you. Thanks for the useful information.”

Campbell was speechless. The kind-hearted maid had vanished.

He looked at the spy as if seeing his own superior. Had she joined the right side, or was it coincidence that they had met in the same unit?

This is troublesome.

Grace sprang to her feet and watched the officer head for the door. He flung it open wide. Soldiers standing in the corridor would now see everything that happened inside.

Grace secretly sighed in relief.

Finally… send me to the prison quickly…

She prayed silently as she listened to Campbell’s complaints.

Yes, please send me away.

Winston arrived at the gray house only in the afternoon.

Did you report to headquarters? I hope you did.

Grace watched the man sitting opposite her across the iron table with growing unease.

Why are you doing this?

He said nothing. Not even a greeting when he entered. He simply sat with arms crossed, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

The man had no reason to waste time meaninglessly. Yet what meaning was there in quietly watching her?

Anxiety coiled tightly in her stomach. The persistent gaze made her twist her body constantly. Winston remained motionless for the long time. He blinked occasionally, but his eyes never left her.

In the silence they faced each other, it felt like a trance. Yesterday’s events already felt like a dream.

If only the nail marks on his hand were not there, she would have sworn it had been a horrible nightmare.

Grace looked at her own nails. Were they safe? Might he use nippers to pull them out as revenge?

It was a self-mocking laugh.

Creak. The sound of the chair being pulled out broke the silence. When she looked up, Winston was already standing right beside her.

His hand reached out. The hand large enough to fully cover her face suddenly appeared, making Grace tense.

“Why, um…”

She thought he was going to choke her and tried to resist, but the words died in her throat. Winston tilted her chin and pressed his lips to hers.

Grace froze. She could not have imagined such a soft kiss from that man—only a gentle press and release.

But passion flooded the kiss. His lips became rough, demanding, pushing in like something long suppressed had finally broken free.

What emotion was this man unleashing?

Then it finally broke.

“Um, ugh…”

Grace’s lower lip, still raw from last night’s wounds, reopened. The salty taste of blood spread. Winston licked it carefully, like a shy tongue. It was not the behavior of the Camden’s Vampire she knew.

More like the boy from Abington Beach…

A bad premonition flashed through Grace. Had he been watching her the entire time during the kiss? When their eyes met, the cold gaze between the curving lashes was not laughing at all.

“Hello, Daisy. My first love.”

The turquoise irises trembled violently.

Finally, Leon had solved the mystery of why only she could make his heart race.

“Here in Abington Beach there is also a well-developed coastal cliff formed by the erosive action of the turquoise sea…”

Leon glared at the tutor seated at the end of the long table with obvious displeasure.

Others would find geology class in a seaside resort boring.

“Teacher, is it true that evidence of the continent being one supercontinent can be found in the rock layers of the coastal cliff?”

His displeased gaze shifted to his younger brother, who had asked the question.

Jerome should have been born first.

Every time their report cards arrived, their mother muttered this complaint. Still, Leon’s grades were not worse than his brother’s. They simply excelled in different subjects.

The mother favored Jerome, who shone in the refined subjects she preferred. Moreover, she despised soldiers as bloodthirsty barbarians, yet Leon showed exceptional talent in military-related courses.

It’s a good thing that girl wasn’t the eldest.

Exactly the same reason, their father favored Leon.

So the mother’s subtle and blunt coldness caused him no real pain.

I don’t like that woman either…

It was tedious. Treating the great military and wealthy nobleman as a half-noble without rank was tedious. Using the family’s every move—including even summer vacations—to fulfill her own dream of becoming Lady Winston was tedious.

Leon was still too young for marriage proposals. Yet his mother already pestered him, urging him to see the proposed matches.

“Leon, you’ve arranged seats with the duchess’s daughters, and now you have to talk about hunting or cricket?”

“Then next time I’ll talk about military law.”

“Oh, my! You’ve even got your father’s twisted personality! Your two fathers are plotting to kill you!”

Jerome, the girl’s child, was prattling about dinosaur fossils in front of the children. Why was he the only problem child?

Leon always complained that his brother was treated like a chess pawn toward his dream girl. Once, when he voiced his dissatisfaction, his father laughed heartily and clapped his shoulder.

“Leon, listen carefully. Every human is just a chess pawn to someone else. What matters is whether you’re a pawn, queen, or knight.”

That had been comforting. He could treat his mother as a pawn too.

At least I have to aim for knight or higher.

His mother had clearly told him to become a knight or higher. But to Leon his mother was not even a pawn. She had no use.

Considering it, the only person who meant anything to Leon was his respected father.

The tutor’s meaningless words criticizing the theory of continental drift were drowned out by the sound of engines starting.

Leon looked out the window beyond Jerome’s shoulder. At the edge of the stepped garden, a line of black sedans was approaching.

Classes would end soon and the party would begin.

The most boring party in the world.

Days earlier his mother had been fussing that young ladies from other count families and distant royal relatives were coming to the annex with their daughters their age.

It was tiring to watch the girls exchange smiles and disdain while pretending to like each other.

Moreover, there was a girl he wanted to see.

Leon slipped his hand into his pocket. He idly toyed with a melted chocolate bar wrapped in its wrapper, remembering the incident from days earlier.

The first time he had seen the girl was the day they arrived at the annex. Walking along the beach south of the annex, he had met a young girl picking up seashells.

A child about two or three years younger than him, seeming the same age as Jerome. She was wearing only a light blue skirt soaked in seawater; the hem clung to her skinny legs like seaweed. No adult was with her.

“Hey, shorty! This is the annex’s private beach—outsiders are not allowed!”

She stuck out her tongue and ran away when the maid chased her.

Tanned skin, dark brown hair. Cute, but not memorable. If they had not met every day, he would have forgotten.

She was standing outside the gate when he left in the carriage. She had been wandering along the wall, and once even perched on a tree branch outside the gate. He had even seen her sitting on that branch and their eyes meeting.

At first he thought it was coincidence. But no ordinary person wandered near someone else’s house every day.

Is she a thief?

A little girl stealing?

It was annoying. Her face stayed in his mind all day. So two days later, unable to bear it, he asked.

“What are you doing?”

The girl on the orange tree outside the wall looked up like a mouselike peek, then slipped off when he suddenly appeared.

“Kyaa!”

Leon jumped under the tree. He knew it was not high enough to hurt much, but he still acted on instinct.

Whoa…

The moment he caught her, he set her down like someone who had been burned. Her face was just as red as his when he lowered her skirt.

“…Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Only when she accepted the apology in her thin, mosquito-like voice did Leon realize something was wrong.

“Wait. Why am I apologizing? You’re the one who shouldn’t have been peeking at someone else’s house.”

“Why shouldn’t I look?”

“Isn’t peeking at someone’s house rude and wrong? Isn’t this the kind of thing only thieves do? Are you an accomplice of the thieves, watching for me?”

The girl showed no sign of being embarrassed or angry at being called a thief. In fact, she did not even look like she was listening. Her unusual turquoise eyes sparkled as she stared at him, twisting her body.

“I wasn’t trying to steal; I was just looking.”

“What?”

“You.”

Leon, about to say that even looking was bad, lost his words.

“You’re really pretty.”

The girl covered her flushed cheeks with both hands and grinned.

It was the first time anyone had called her pretty, but he had heard “handsome” countless times. Even his mother, who disliked him, had said his refined features were pleasing.

“For a boy it should be ‘handsome,’ not ‘pretty.’”

“Wow… even getting angry looks pretty.”

She was a strange child. Looking into those sparkling turquoise eyes made the shaded tree seem strangely warm.

“Hey, um…”

The girl clasped her hands behind her back and twisted her body, as if asking for something.

“What?”

“Can I touch your hair just once?”

Leon was stunned again. He had never imagined such a request.

Why is this stranger asking that?

His face must have looked displeased; the girl quickly explained her strange request.

“Sorry, but you’re so pretty I wanted to touch you! It looks soft and velvety.”

“I’m not a puppy.”

“It’s not that… but…”

“I’ve never touched a girl like you.”

The girl pouted. Her big eyes grew wet. Leon panicked; she might cry any second.

“No, I didn’t mean it that way…”

It was not a bad meaning at all.

He had only seen girls who always hid their true feelings, so seeing this honest child was surprising. Honestly, it was fun. Just watching her would lead somewhere, and her next strange words would keep him curious.

“Here.”

Leon bowed his head. When the girl stood on tiptoes because he was still too tall, he bent his knees.

Her hand touched his pomaded hair. If anyone saw, they would think the son of a lieutenant was acting like a dog for a common girl. Leon smiled despite himself.

But the girl’s bright smile made his crooked mouth straighten.

“Wow, it’s soft. I thought it would be cold because it’s light-colored, but it’s warm.”

“It’s summer.”

Truly an odd child.

“Touching sunlight would feel like this.”

When she withdrew her hand, Leon stood up straight.

“Thank you.”

“My curiosity is satisfied.”

The girl nodded.

“I’m jealous. I want to be blonde too. Everyone in my family is blonde, but I’m the only one with brown hair.”

She chattered without being asked.

Normally Leon would make an excuse and leave when girls talked about themselves. But today his feet would not move. He was about to excuse himself for the upcoming horseback lesson when—strangely—his feet stayed put.

The girl babbled alone, then suddenly blushed and rummaged through a small bag slung across her body.

“Here, chocolate.”

The chocolate from a distant, cruder brand had been in the bag for a long time; the wrapping at the corner was worn.

Leon did not like sweets and usually refused, but this time he accepted out of habit. Besides, it was cheap chocolate his mother would throw away as unclean…

“Why this?”

“It’s the price of being watched.”

“I was saving it to eat.”

The girl added shyly and smiled.

This was exactly like taking candy from a poor child’s mouth.

“I’ll come watch again tomorrow.”

The girl waved her hand and skipped away. She had not even said “don’t watch, just look openly.”

She really is strange.

Realizing he had never asked her name, Leon felt his mind go blank.

Even basic things forgotten… he blamed the strange girl for that.

He had planned to ask next time they met, but it had rained all day yesterday.

The girl seemed a little slow. Had she really come to watch in this awful weather? Leon had worried, but he had sat by the window the whole day, waiting, with an umbrella beside him.

She had not come. That was fortunate, yet he felt strangely disappointed.

Was she not coming today?

When classes ended, Leon headed back to the window he had clung to all day yesterday and was disappointed again. He stared at the orange tree with only oranges left, then turned away.

“Where are you going? Guests are here.”

He was taking his bicycle out of the parking lot when a bookish man in a tie tugged at him.

“Yes, I know.”

“Mother wants me to introduce you.”

“Jerome Winston, for the mother who wants me to be the eldest son today, you will act as the eldest son.”

Leon mounted his bicycle and sneered in the tone his father often used.

“I’m not your subordinate!”

Jerome shouted from behind. Leon stopped and turned.

“You should have been born first.”

“Damn it!”

“That guy gossips like a girl.”

Leon copied his father’s habit again. Jerome pouted, mouth tight, clearly offended.

“Jerome, you’re too serious; it’s boring.”

Leon smiled at his brother over his shoulder and pedaled again.

If she doesn’t come, I’ll go to her.

The problem was he did not know where the girl lived. Should he search every orange tree in Abington Beach? After checking the hills of expensive villas and the shops below, he felt lost.

The sun was high. Under the scorching heat, Leon’s mouth dried. When he saw an ice-cream stand by the beach, he stopped.

He was leaning his bicycle against the roadside railing when her voice came.

“Can I have it on credit?”

That girl’s voice.

I found her.

Leon swept his hair neatly, which had been messy from riding.

“It’s too hot and I’m thirsty… I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

Grace hung on the stand and begged again.

“Bring your parents.”

The vendor would not budge.

She did not know where her parents were. She had received money from her father this morning, but after playing on the beach they had disappeared.

She was heartbroken. If they found out, her father would scold her. Should she eat oranges from the roadside today? Were all outsiders’ hearts made of ice?

Tears welled. Shy and humiliated, Grace took one step back and muttered to the innocent vendor.

“Why not? It’s… too much. It works in our village.”

“Then go back to your village. You little beggar, don’t act so spoiled.”

“I’m not a beggar…”

Head lowered, she tried to leave when a strange hand caught her shoulder.

“You cannot help a lady in trouble, yet you act rudely and show your shame.”

Grace’s eyes widened.

Whoa! Pretty boy.

Her cheeks burned—from the gentle hand on her shoulder and the shame of showing her worst self.

“I’ll have a bottle of soda. Apfel like the others, but Chale for the lady… and for you?”

The boy called her “lady” again and asked politely. Grace panicked and answered.

“I… I want a stick of ice cream. Just that is fine.”

Buying soda seemed cool. Reading the difficult foreign label made it look like expensive wine. Ordering a stick of ice cream made her feel like a child. She added that she only wanted something she could eat, not because she did not know.

“What flavor?”

The boy was kind even though he was handsome. He asked carefully what she wanted.

“Chocolate and vanilla sell best. If you don’t like them, orange, lemon, strawberry…”

The vendor who had been scary to Grace was completely different in front of the boy. He took every flavor out of the ice box and showed them. If Grace had brought money, he would not have bent so low.

That made sense; the boy looked like a young noble.

Even without the expensive polo shirt and watch, his straight posture and relaxed eyes radiated nobility.

“Then strawberry flavor…”

The boy gestured and the vendor quickly took out strawberry ice cream and offered it with both hands.

“Yes, for the lady—strawberry. Here it is.”

Grace had learned nobles were bad. Adults called them greedy piglets.

But away from the village it was hard to say. Everyone seemed to like nobles.

Grace liked this boy better than other nobles.

“Thank you.”

The boy smiled gracefully at her greeting.

“Let’s go.”

Grace followed without knowing where. After walking a bit she wondered if he knew where he was going.

“Hey.”

Grace walked beside the boy pulling his bicycle along the beach path and asked courageously.

“You looked like a prince just now.”

The boy choked on his soda. He pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket, hesitated, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand while looking at the ice-cream girl with a puzzled frown.

“It’s dripping.”

He handed the handkerchief to her and wiped his own lips. Even that movement was handsome. Looking up as if watching a soda commercial, he asked.

“Why weren’t you here today?”

“Eh?”

The girl tilted her head again, smiling because her strawberry-stained lips were red inside.

“You were waiting for me?”

Leon’s cheeks turned as red as the girl’s lips.

“Then you came to find me?”

“Eh? No. Ah, I had nothing to do…”

Leon looked away and mumbled vaguely.

“I see…”

Seeing the disappointed face, Leon regretted speaking so honestly.

“Name.”

“Huh?”

“I’m Leon. What’s yours?”

“…Daisy.”

Leon did not know why the girl had paused, lips moving as if about to speak.

“Leon, do you live here?”

“No. That’s just an annex. You?”

He already knew she was not a local, but he asked as if he had not overheard the vendor’s conversation with Daisy.

“I came from far away. For family vacation…”

Grace did not explain that the far place was not home or why it was “like a family vacation” instead of actual vacation; she changed the subject.

“I’ve never been to a place like this. It’s so exciting.”

She had rarely left the remote mountain village. Staying in a luxury resort for so long was even rarer.

The first time she had seen the sea, it had been so beautiful she had walked along the beach the whole day. She had met Leon by chance.

“But is it okay for you to go around alone without your parents?”

Why was no one with this child? Leon had never understood why an adult always followed him everywhere.

“…Eh.”

Grace was not allowed to go alone; she had to.

Her parents had been away often, but they had suddenly come home and said to go to Abington Beach for family vacation.

She had thought it was real vacation until she left her brother behind. Then, upon arriving and unpacking in the isolated lodging, she realized it was not vacation but “mission.”

Grace did not know what adults meant by mission. She only guessed it was some righteous task to save the world, like the heroes in the books. And like those heroes, she had to keep her identity secret.

This mission was to approach a bad soldier named Winston and steal information, the adults had said. Grace’s mission as a young girl was the “disguise” that made the adults look like ordinary travelers.

The adults were always busy and never had time to care for her. So every morning they left money on her bedside table.

They had spent the past week in luxury she had never known, having fun—until today, when she lost the money she had received and looked shabby.

“Ah, I got pocket money this morning. But when I was playing on the beach I lost it.”

Grace mumbled a fabricated excuse without being asked. When she looked up, the orange tree above her naturally came into view.

“Leon, then as thanks for the ice cream, can I pick some oranges for you?”

Leon’s pupils moved, but Grace did not notice. She searched for the ripest one and reached for the tree when another hand touched her shoulder.

“Don’t climb the tree in a skirt.”

“Why?”

“…It’s improper.”

Did this child not know such obvious things? Daisy’s eyes widened in a question mark.

“Pink.”

She finally understood. Daisy’s face turned bright red.

“Ah, no! I’m wearing white today!”

“…Why are you telling me with your mouth?”

Adults passing by smiled meaningfully at the boy and girl standing under the tree, faces like ripe peaches.

Leon, embarrassed, pulled his bicycle and walked on. Grace did not know if he wanted her to follow or to say goodbye here, so she hesitated.

After three steps Leon stopped. The girl was still standing under the tree, dazed.

He finally realized: she had not said she was going on a date with him today, yet from the moment they met she had assumed he would lead the way.

Wait. I never said “let’s go on a date.”

He had never said it. It was unnecessary anyway.

The social life of noble children was arranged by their parents, not the children themselves. Everything—where, when, who, what—was decided. Leon had no choice but to follow whether he liked it or not.

This was the first time he had met a girl he wanted and could spend time with freely. But the problem was…

How do you ask someone to go on a date?

Leon hesitated, unable to say it. Just as he thought Daisy might walk away, his dirty mouth blurted out.

“If you want to return the ice-cream gift, then play with me.”

His hand pointed across the street to the opening of the great carnival.

Play? With a child?

Leon wanted to slap his own cheek. He had bought one ice cream and was already negotiating like a cheapskate. Was this kind of blackmail common?

Daisy’s face was not pleased. The date had already failed before it started.

“…Okay.”

Unexpected agreement came. Soon they walked in their own directions, both feeling lost.

I heard noble children hire someone to play with them, but is this really it?

Grace felt a little offended, but after riding three or four rides everything was forgotten.

“Leon, I want to ride that one this time.”

“Okay.”

Leon stood in front of the carousel ticket booth without a single complaint.

She asked to be played with. In fact, the one playing was Leon. He happily rode every childish ride with her, including the carousel.

Moreover, he helped her onto the carousel with princely kindness. She felt like a princess.

While secretly fiddling with the hand he had caught, he instantly mounted the neighboring horse. Cheerful music began and the carousel started spinning.

Normally Grace would wave at the outside view, but this time she could not tear her eyes away. Leon also only looked at Grace. Blushing, she asked.

“Why? You say I’m pretty?”

“Yes.”

The boy laughed sincerely at her serious answer.

“But do you really have a horse at home?”

Leon nodded.

“Then this ride is no fun.”

“Ah… not really…”

Leon looked confused. He had no idea why he was talking so much about why the carousel was more fun than real horses.

“There’s a roof here so no carsickness…”

“That’s right. That’s right.”

It was nonsense even to her. Yet Daisy listened seriously to his babble.

Actually, Leon had thought carousels were boring. Why did his heart race like when riding a roller coaster?

Next was the haunted house.

“Kyaa! Don’t let go! Don’t let go! I can’t!”

Leon hugged the clinging girl and secretly smiled in the dark. It was fortunate it was dark.

“Sob, it was scary…”

When they came out of the haunted house, Daisy’s face was soaked with tears.

“Sorry. Then as thanks for the apology…”

Before Leon could finish, Daisy pointed somewhere. There a giant stuffed dolphin hung on the shooting booth.

They approached the booth. Five shots for one try. The dolphin needed 100 points. Leon paid the guard and checked the scores on the opposite wall.

Highest is 25, next is 15.

Leon picked up the toy gun. It was an old, licensed shooting rifle. After checking that the barrel was not bent, he sighted it.

A staff member approached.

“Can you shoot? Teach me?”

Leon ignored her and pulled the trigger.

Crack.

25-point target fell.

“Damn…”

Each shot made the man’s curses longer. The sniffling beside him turned into admiration.

“Wow, amazing!”

The honed skill finally shone here.

“Someday when you have a girl you like, this will help.”

Leon suddenly remembered his father teaching him to shoot.

He was not hunting women or avenging rivals. Why would it help? Now he understood the meaning.

Finally he got the dolphin and a candy-exchange voucher for 125 points.

“Here.”

Leon took the dolphin from the complaining owner and placed it in Daisy’s arms.

“Amazing! My brother and Jimmy have never succeeded even once.”

The girl looked up at him and sighed with delight. He felt like a god.

At the candy booth Daisy chose candy apple. She offered the red-syrup-coated apple on a stick.

“You try it.”

“I don’t like sweets much…”

“Ah…”

Daisy brought the apple to his mouth again. Leon could not finish his sentence. The girl with the red candy apple in her mouth looked up at him with round eyes. Leon bowed his head, hypnotized.

Crack. He bit the other side. The crisp apple and sweet sugar melted on his tongue.

Was a kiss like this?

With one small apple between them their eyes met. Grace had never realized turquoise eyes could burn like flames.

She wanted to pull away from embarrassment, but could not. Her lips stuck to the sticky syrup and would not separate.

Perhaps it was an overly convenient excuse.

Leon tilted his head. His eyelid, half-closed, slowly opened and his soft turquoise eyes gazed back at Grace.

Grace stared blankly at his cheek as Leon reached out. The instant his silk-smooth skin touched her, her heart dropped. He had only removed a hair from her cheek and she felt like fainting.

It’s like kissing.

They both thought the same thing and shared the apple with redder faces.

Then, with many people around, they held hands while walking under the excuse that the candy might get lost. They left the crowded carnival and entered a quieter shopping street, still holding hands.

They peeked into shops they usually never entered. Grace’s eyes stayed on the glass beads of the bracelet that held the sea’s cool blue light.

“It would look good on you.”

Leon took out his wallet. Daisy shook her head.

“No. It’s not okay.”

“Why? If you don’t like it, try something else…”

“My mother said not to dress me up prettily.”

Leon was confused. Where was a mother who told her daughter not to dress prettily?

It was not a hasty excuse. In fact, Daisy was plain—no necklace, no hair ribbon. She had looked poor, yet her mother had said she should not dress up?

“Why?”

“I don’t know. But my mother is really, really pretty.”

“You’re really pretty too. The sea is in your eyes.”

Grace’s heart thumped again.

The sea is in my eyes…?

The handsome boy spoke handsomely too. The sea she had never seen before was so beautiful. Yet that beautiful sight was inside her eyes.

She wanted to laugh foolishly.

Am I… pretty?

The girl covered her collar and muttered, cheeks red. Leon picked up a straw hat from the wall and put it on her head, laughing.

“Then this will do.”

He did not want to part. Even though he knew it was proper to send her to the lodging before it got too late, he did not let go of her hand all day.

I will be in huge trouble when I get back to the annex.

While thinking that, his eyes never left Daisy’s sunset-red lips.

After watching the sunset on the beach, they ate dinner at a seafood restaurant. Adults’ eyes followed the children of puberty roaming without guardians. But the two children saw no other people’s gazes.

Jazz bars opened one by one and the sound of waves mixed with jazz. They walked along the darkened sea and returned to the carnival.

The carnival before closing was quiet. Ride after ride turned off its loud lights and music.

The time to part was approaching. Leon did not want to leave. He led Daisy to the still-lit Ferris wheel.

“It’s over today. Come again tomorrow.”

When he offered five times the ticket price, the staff opened the carriage door like a servant.

The two-person Ferris wheel began to turn slowly.

“Wow…”

Grace sighed at the sharp contrast of light and dark below. The brightly lit shopping street and the dark beach were divided by the coastal road.

She gazed endlessly at the black sea dotted with moonlight and the lights of the tourist boats. For some reason the Ferris wheel stopped at the very top.

The already faint jazz music could no longer be heard because of the sea breeze. The open-air wheel swayed in the wind and Grace felt a chill.

From the night view she clutched Leon’s arm tighter and looked up at him.

Why are you doing this?

Leon stared back at her.

Thinking back, he had looked at her face all day—while watching the sunset, while eating lobster at dinner. Why did she feel so uneasy looking down from this height?

She bit her lower lip unconsciously.

“Daisy, don’t bite your lip.”

“Ah…”

She had bitten her already thin lips too hard.

“Ah, handkerchief…”

Leon’s face grew awkward as he searched his pocket. The strawberry-flavored handkerchief from yesterday had been discarded. He should have bought a new one.

“Wait.”

As Daisy stuck out her tongue to lick her lip, Leon caught the tip of her chin and tilted her head. His nose touched hers. When he slightly turned, their lips met.

He had not even thought if it was allowed; he had simply done it.

He could claim it was only what the nanny had taught him as a child. But this time there was no excuse—he had done it knowing lips were lips.

He had wondered all day what Daisy’s lips would feel like. What her hair would feel like, like Daisy.

Soft and warm. He gently pressed his lips to the soft flesh, then carefully licked the blood from the wound with the tip of his tongue. Daisy’s body jerked.

He had done countless bad things that would get him caught, but never had his heart raced like this.

When he pulled away from her lips after licking the wound, Daisy whispered in surprise.

“This is a kiss. My first kiss…”

Leon was quite surprised that Daisy felt the same.

“So… you don’t like it…?”

“…I like it.”

Her shy smile opened between her lips. Leon liked her honest straightforwardness.

“Again… shall we?”

Daisy nodded immediately and her smiling lips pressed together again.

The saying that kisses feel like flying was not wrong. Kissing secretly high in the sky while the world lay below was thrilling.

A strong wind blew. Leon pressed the straw hat flying off with one hand and pulled Daisy’s face closer.

The Ferris wheel swayed again in the wind. Daisy clutched Leon’s arm tighter, scared of falling. Their bodies pressed tightly together, her skin grew hot.

The sweet scent of candy apple. The sticky texture of taffy. The smooth taste of milkshake. The carnival-flavored lips from which blood had seeped out.

Blood tasted sweet.

Drowning in the flood of sensations that clouded his mind, Leon thought: maybe from today I will like sweets.

The annex where Daisy lived was on a remote mountain.

It was fortunate he had taken the bicycle with the oil lamp. Leon climbed the dark mountain path with only faint lamp light, holding Daisy in one hand and the bicycle in the other.

“It’s quite far from my annex.”

Leon muttered like a sigh while climbing the steep slope. The rough sound of waves crashing against the coastal cliff was close by.

“You walked here every day?”

Daisy nodded.

I should have asked earlier…

At the moment of regret and regret together, Leon realized he still had not asked the important question.

“Daisy, when are you going home?”

“That is…”

Grace thought that as long as her parents’ mission never ended she did not mind, and answered honestly.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Yes. You?”

“I’ll stay another month.”

I hope we never go home either. A ridiculous wind rose.

Leon was not a child. Even if the world was slowly changing, love between noble and commoner was still taboo. He knew the dangerous game at the resort was the limit.

But in this unfamiliar place he became a different person. For the first time he had disobeyed his parents and escaped. The first kiss had been sweet. He felt that running away would always be this sweet.

“Will we meet again tomorrow and play?”

“Yes.”

Daisy’s gloomy face brightened instantly.

“Then…”

Leon had been about to say he would pick her up in the morning, but hesitated. If he returned he would be forbidden to leave.

“Then how about playing at my annex tomorrow?”

“Is that allowed?”

“But if an adult catches us it will be troublesome, so let’s hide in my room and play.”

“Okay.”

What could they do while hiding in the room? Leon asked after thinking.

“Do you like movies? I have a projector in my room. Want to watch together?”

Daisy’s eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. She liked movies. Good.

“Then meet at the annex beach entrance at ten in the morning.”

He planned the route to hide Daisy and bring her inside the annex when she suddenly stopped.

“Hey, Leon…”

“Huh?”

“I’m actually… Daisy is…”

As Daisy hesitated and seemed about to speak, intense headlights suddenly shone in front of them. The window of the black sedan that had stopped on the narrow mountain path opened. The man in the driver’s seat shouted.

“You little brats, move!”

That voice was familiar. The face that came out of the window was also known.

“Leon?”

“Father?”

Mother? As the blonde beauty in the passenger seat met his eyes, Grace’s face turned deathly white.

Her mother must have recognized her too. The smile she had been giving the driver vanished instantly.

When his gaze reached the blonde man who looked like Leon’s father, all the blood drained from Grace’s body. That man was clearly the soldier the adults had called the target—Winston.

Leon’s father is that man?

The old annex had thin walls and adults’ conversations carried easily. The adults had called that man a dirty piglet of the kingdom, a mad dog of the royal family, a demon who cruelly killed revolutionary heroes.

Now I will be punished.

Her mind went blank. The man-child she had talked to until late at night was no ordinary thing. If that man-child was the son of an enemy and had done many unforgivable things to him, he would receive a harsh punishment.

Breath caught. For Grace her parents were both respected and terrifying. If she was caught, her brother might get a slap from her father.

“It’s okay, Daisy.”

Just as Leon tried to hide the trembling Daisy behind him.

“You dirty piglet!”

Daisy shouted and shook off his hand. Leon stared blankly at the girl’s retreating back.

What did you say to me just now…

He wanted to believe he had misheard, but the scornful eyes of their last meeting were clear.

What did I do wrong?

It felt like she had hit his head. The dark he stared into was as unfathomable as the girl’s heart. His father shouted.

“Leon, go back to the annex now. The fact that you saw me here is a secret from your mother.”

Only then did Leon realize the strange woman sitting beside his father was actually his mother.

“Daisy!”

He searched the mountain path for her only after the car had gone, but she was nowhere to be found.

Why? What did I do?

The questions without answers echoed in his empty mind as he walked back numbly. He was greeted by a roar.

“You broke an important promise and spent the whole day shooting at nothing? Do you have a brain? You’ve been making things difficult in the womb and plotting to kill me!”

Wearing pajamas with a towel on his head, Leon could have screamed, but it would not have helped.

“Leon! Come here now! Where did you learn this from?”

Leon said nothing and slammed the door of his room shut. His body slid down to the floor.

He crouched and kept asking the same question over and over.

What did I do wrong?

Calling her a dirty piglet. No matter how he thought, he had not done anything terrible enough to hear that.

If she did not like the kiss, she should have refused then. He had been having fun all day and treated her like a beast at the end. He really liked her, yet she had mocked him.

Leon threw the thing in his hand across the room. The stuffed dolphin fell and continued smiling without understanding.

He felt stupid for having brought the girl’s mercilessly discarded doll all the way here.

“Ha…”

He had never cried after his head grew thick, but he wanted to cry. He felt so stupid.

That night Leon dreamed.

Warm breath. Soft touch. Sweet…

Bloody smell.

And…

Dirty piglet!

He jolted awake. His face was as wet as if it had been under water.

“Damn…”

“No one has contacted us about where your father is. Your families are exactly the same.”

Leon stood after his mother’s scolding. The breakfast on the table remained untouched.

“Leon, you are under house arrest for a week. If you reflect and apologize now, I might reduce it to three days.”

As expected, the house-arrest order came. Leon did not apologize. Breaking the rules set by his parents was difficult the first time, easy the second.

He had been pacing the beach where they had agreed to meet thirty minutes before the appointed time. Even though he intuitively knew Daisy would not come, he could not stop the futile waiting.

She had not come. When the watch hand reached 11:00, Leon began walking along the beach toward Daisy’s annex.

What did I do wrong?

He had to ask. Only she knew the answer.

If he had truly done something wrong, he would apologize. If not, he would receive an apology. Believing he could do so had been naive.

He searched the shabby annex and camping area in the undeveloped mountain forest as thoroughly as possible. But the girl was nowhere to be found.

Only other people were there.

Walking down the sparsely inhabited mountain slope, Leon suddenly stopped. A broken headlight lay in the dense forest.

Was there a car accident?

Leon entered the forest and followed the tire tracks. Rain was coming; dark clouds gathered and strong wind blew. The salty sea breeze carried the smell…

Blood?

The moment he realized, he found the abandoned black sedan in front of a remote cliff. It was the familiar sedan.

Bad premonitions always came true. Looking into the broken window, all color drained from Leon’s face. In the back seat lay a body in a grotesque posture, soaked in blood from head to toe.

“…Father?”

The dead could not answer.

Every time the train shook, the thin body dangling from the railing swayed helplessly.

The adults smoked cigarettes on the balcony of the last carriage. In that gap Grace stared at the distant horizon where the sun was rising.

The sea was no longer visible. She no longer wanted to see the sea.

The sea is in my eyes.

She hated her eyes too.

Dirty piglet!

That boy was not dirty… She had cried out in panic without realizing, yet the face would not leave her eyes.

She hated herself for having shouted that. She also hated the cowardly self who thought it was fortunate she had not been scolded by her mother because of it.

“Daisy!”

No. That was not her name.

Grace covered her ears at the illusion.

She had heard a voice calling her name from outside last night. After Leon’s voice disappeared she had stayed awake all night with the lights off, hiding under the blanket and crying.

And through the thin wall she had heard strange sounds all night—suppressed screams, adults’ angry voices, and repeated striking sounds.

When those sounds suddenly stopped, Grace had hurriedly packed her luggage and fled Abington Beach.

“Damn… I never thought that far.”

“Dave, don’t blame yourself.”

The uncle standing beside her father comforted her. No one comforted the girl who felt guilty for doing nothing.

Her father died?

Grace was confused. What should she do? What should she feel? No action or emotion seemed right in this situation.

She only wanted to sit and cry. Clinging to the balcony rail until her hands hurt, she listened to the adults’ conversation.

“By the way, did that guy say he saw Angie?”

Dave-san asked his mother. Grace startled. Had her mother told the other adults about her playing with the child? Would she be scolded now?

“That kid should have been dealt with too…”

Her heart, which had been jumping with worry earlier, now sank like a stone.

Leon is kind. Please don’t kill him, uncle.

The words would not leave her tongue. Grace looked up at the adults with terrified eyes. Her mother glanced at her and shook her head at Dave-san.

“She probably didn’t see my face. And she’s still a child.”

Second-class passengers were not suspected of murder. After her father sighed about the budget overrun and returned to the borrowed compartment, Grace lay on the upper bunk staring at the ceiling.

Her mother in the same compartment suddenly reached up.

“If you don’t feel like eating, have this chocolate instead.”

A box of expensive chocolate was in her mother’s hand. She had bought it while passing the dining car earlier, but Grace had not realized it was meant for her.

While going to the train for Abington Beach she had only waited for the dining car. Today she had almost finished breakfast. Grace took the chocolate box and stared at it blankly before sitting up.

“Um, Mother.”

“What is it?”

“When I grow up…”

“Yes.”

“I have to kill that boy with my own hands?”

Grace was still confused. She did not understand this situation at all. She did not even know what feelings she should have.

But one thing was clear.

She did not want to kill that boy.

“Grace…”

Her mother called her name instead of answering and sat up from the bed. This was the first time she had seen the always god-like being look like she might cry.

“Come here.”

Moreover, this was the first time she had been hugged. It felt awkward. Grace lay silently in the same bed as her mother and held her breath.

The faint scent of perfume she had always smelled became rich.

Mom’s scent…

It soon felt close rather than awkward. The mother who had always been hard and unyielding to Grace now hugged her with chocolate, just as she had on her birthday or Christmas.

Would she fall asleep? Her mother patted Grace’s back gently and muttered.

“I should have sent you to an orphanage…”

At that moment joy turned into the shock that shatters the world. She learned then that when a person receives extreme shock, even crying does not come.

She had sometimes heard her parents arguing at night; she would hide under the blanket in the next room and listen to her mother’s shouts.

“That’s why I said I should send you to an orphanage!”

p>She had not realized until now that her mother was talking about her. She had even tried to deny it. Even her father and mother did not love her, Grace had felt that too as a child.

But from that day on, Grace could no longer deny that she was a being who could be abandoned at any time.

When they returned home, she caught a terrible summer cold.

I will kill him… please don’t abandon me…

For another mission her parents left the house immediately. The only one who watched over her high-fevered, babbling girl was her brother.

“What happened there? Huh? Grace, tell me something.”

Her brother asked anxiously, but Grace kept her mouth shut until the end.

Because I hesitated to kill the enemy, because I’m a pathetic revolutionary, they want to abandon me.

If she said that, even her brother might abandon her.

The magazine James had given her to help her recover was useless.

[Funeral of Sir Richard Winston is held amid national mourning]

Winston family tragedy. Execution of major rebel figures timed with the funeral. The eldest son of Winston, who continues his father’s will to exterminate the rebels after his honorable death.

Grace tossed the magazine aside after reading the confusing headlines. The moment the magazine fell open on the floor, she screamed.

In a large black-and-white photo filling an entire page, the boy stared straight at Grace.

You betrayed me. You killed my father. I liked you, yet how could you do this to me?