The Cursed Beast Caught My Leash - Chapter 87

“Even if it’s just for one more night, stay with me….”

“……”

“I want to be with you. Please.”

Despite her desperate plea, Islay did not relent. He neither coldly shook off her hand nor embraced her trembling shoulders, even though the urge to do so was evident behind the icy mask he wore, a facade as unyielding as the frozen walls of his castle.

“Why?”

In the end, all he returned was a low question. Stella’s pupils quivered violently.

“Why… what do you mean, why?”

“You want to sleep beside me after what I’ve done to you?”

Stella struggled to steady her voice, thick with emotion.

“It’s because… we promised each other…”

“Stop dodging the question. Tell me properly. Why are you acting as though every day counts?”

Stella hiccuped as she swallowed her breath. His question carried an unspoken suspicion, and she could sense that he knew something she hadn’t shared.

‘Could he possibly know…?’

Did he know that she had secretly met with the High Priest? That she planned to offer herself as a sacrifice for his sake?

“Answer me, Estella. Say it yourself.”

There was no way she could answer. Stella parted her lips, but no words came out. She could only hold onto his hand tightly, praying that he wouldn’t send her away.

Islay, watching her fumble, let out a heavy sigh. That was the end of their conversation.

“If you don’t want to make me more miserable, go back.”

“……”

“I’m asking you. Help me stop destroying us any further.”

…Help me. Stella’s lips, pressed tightly together, began to tremble. It was the first time Islay had ever asked anything of her. How could she refuse?

“Islay, I…”

Still, she moved her lips, hoping he might change his mind, hoping he might stay with her for just the few days she had left.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t the heartfelt, beautiful confession she had once dreamed of giving him. It was closer to a sorrowful plea, a tearful cry. A love so pitiful it could bring no joy to the one receiving it.

Their joined hands faintly trembled, but it was impossible to tell who started it. There was no time to find out.

Islay slowly released her deeply entwined fingers.

“Go back.”

***

Left alone, Stella cried through the night.

The moment she left the solitary tower and stepped into the bedroom where she had been staying, she began to weep. From the cold light of the moon to the first rays of dawn, she lay curled up on the bed, sobbing.

It felt as though she were drowning in an endless sea of sorrow. Her voice cracked as she cried, her shoulders trembling without pause. She cried so much that she couldn’t even bring herself to drink a sip of water. Eventually, the tears became mechanical, pouring out without thought, leaving her dizzy and unable to think.

When dawn finally broke, someone knocked on the bedroom door. Stella still lay in bed. She had cried so long that she was utterly drained, unable even to lift herself.

Suddenly, she thought of Dora. Stella groaned as she struggled to sit up and allowed entry.

“Dora…”

Her voice was thick with relief and sorrow, breaking awkwardly.

But the person who entered wasn’t Dora. It was a few familiar maids, carrying a tray of breakfast. Though they weren’t as warm as Dora, they were attentive, silently tending to Stella’s needs during her stay.

They set the dishes and utensils neatly on the spacious table. They didn’t forget her favorite sweet and tangy juice or the soft dessert she often had in the morning. One of them even folded clean pajamas and blankets neatly into the dresser.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Stella watched them quietly. Then, suddenly, she broke into tears, bowing her head.

All of this was Islay’s doing. He had pushed her away coldly, yet he was still looking after her from the shadows, ensuring her comfort and well-being.

With her head lowered, Stella’s tears fell onto the fabric in slow, round droplets. Her shoulders began to shake as the weight of her emotions overtook her.

It was then that someone lightly touched her trembling shoulder.

“Princess.”

“……”

“The memorial ceremony will take place this coming weekend in the square.”

Stella raised her tear-streaked face, her eyes dazed. The maid who had been ventilating the room moments earlier was now speaking to her. The others who had been setting the table had disappeared without a trace. When had it become just the two of them?

Before she could fully gather her thoughts, the maid continued in a hushed tone, “At noon on that day, the gates leading to the outer castle will open. Use the memorial ceremony as an excuse to leave. At the center of the square, you will find a statue of a warrior drawing a bow. Follow the direction of the arrowhead, and you’ll come across a shop selling soap and candles. Through the back door of that shop, you will meet the priests.”

…Could it be? Padro. The maid was the one sent by the High Priest.

Stella, who had spent the night wiping away endless tears, slowly clenched her trembling hand into a fist. The movement radiated a newfound determination.

“I know where that shop is.”

It was the same place where she and Dora had once sought refuge from a monster. The maid nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Make sure to distance yourself from the guards escorting you. Under no circumstances should they follow you inside the shop. Once you exit through the back door, it will lead to the busiest main street. There, we will erase all traces of your presence.”

Her heart pounded fiercely, a rapid drumming in her chest. Could she truly pull this off? Without Dora’s help, she would have to manage everything alone.

“And after I leave through the back door?”

“A disciple of the High Priest will guide you. Do not lose your way and follow them closely.”

“I understand.”

“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Abruptly shifting the topic, the maid ended the conversation and turned to leave. Stella opened her mouth, wanting to ask more questions, but could only watch as the maid exited the bedroom. The informant of Padro didn’t look back. Soon, the door closed quietly.

Stella let out a long, heavy sigh.

Dora must have also heard about the memorial ceremony set to take place in three days. Would she come to help? Judging by Dora’s earlier outburst—furiously declaring that she couldn’t go along with such a request—Stella couldn’t be sure.

But regardless, she had to push forward alone if necessary. There was no turning back now. Stella’s resolve had not wavered for even a moment.

She stared at the firmly closed wooden door for a long while before casting her gaze out the open window the maid had left behind.

The sky, bright blue at dawn, was now shrouded in thick, dark clouds. The ominous rumble of thunder from the storm clouds signaled an impending downpour.

Yet Stella felt no fear. Thinking about the little time she had left filled her with a strange courage. She had no intention of wasting the precious moments remaining to her.

The woman who had been drowning in hesitation finally rose to her feet. She approached the basin of water, washing away the remnants of emotion clinging to her face. After moistening her throat with a drink left by the maids, she felt a hint of strength return to her weary body.

She placed the glass down with a resolute clink and turned her gaze back to the window.

There was only one thing left for her to do.

***

Crash.

A deafening clap of thunder reverberated through the air.

The torrential rain poured down as if intent on demolishing the Ice Castle. Dark clouds obscured the skies, making it impossible to discern the passage of time.

Stepping out into the heavy, oppressive atmosphere, Stella pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and briskly crossed the courtyard. She walked with purpose, heading straight for the tower where Islay resided.

Upon reaching the massive door guarded by sentries, she looked up at them.

“Is Islay here?”

Her soft voice was quickly drowned out by the unrelenting sound of rain. The guards exchanged glances, their eyes shifting subtly. One of them responded in a gruff tone.

“The Lord is out.”

“Is he inside?”

Her voice carried disbelief as she asked again. The sentry, towering over the petite woman before him, hesitated.

Though she seemed frail enough to be swept away by the rain, her small face, turned upward, radiated an unyielding determination. It was evident she had no intention of retreating.

“I want to go inside.”

Stella broke the silence, her golden eyes gleaming with a rare clarity as she gazed at them.

“Let me in.”

The guards had been strictly ordered to stop anyone attempting to enter the tower without permission. Yet, under the spell of Stella’s luminous golden eyes, they found themselves unable to move. They stared at her, as if caught in an inescapable enchantment.