obsession chapter 4

“Well, I suppose showering affection on trash is typical of a rat.” 

‘Rat number 5,381.’ 

Shariette counted in her head, calmly relaxing her body. Detaching her consciousness from her wooden doll-like body was simple. She could free herself from all sensation if she wished. 

‘When the Verit solution boils and turns yellow, add stinging nettles…’ 

To pass the time, she flipped through the pages in her mind, searching for the recipe for the medicine she had to make today. Herbal medicine was her specialty, inherited from her deceased mother, and one of her uses. 

“Stop it. Her head is the most useful part.” Another voice joined the scene. Matthias Argen, the legitimate heir of the family and Blanche’s full brother. His strong hand yanked Shariette’s head back. 

“Cough! Hack, cough!” A cold liquid scorched her throat. Ah. Ah. Shariette realized she couldn’t speak. Silen poison? She flipped through the mental pages again. 

‘…Add three drops of diluted Silen poison, and it turns yellowish-green…’ 

“Sasha, if you let slip even a single word to Noxian, everything will be ruined.” 

Blanche, smoothing her blood-stained, lemon-colored hair, caressed Shariette’s cheek. 

“Since you’ll recover quickly anyway, make sure you drink this every day.” Blessed with rapid healing, it was another of Shariette’s specialties and her primary use in this house. “It’s not because you’re afraid Noxian Rubelot will find out there’s another daughter in this family, is it?” Matthias asked mockingly. Blanche’s sharp nails dug into Shariette’s cheek. He seemed to enjoy watching his sister torment their half-sister in a fit of pique. 

“…Of course not. Our Sasha knows her place so well. Don’t you?” Blanche whispered, her green eyes gleaming. “You’re alive because of me, you thief. Remember that.” Today’s tantrum was over. Shariette felt nothing, but she nodded obediently, feigning fear.

A month later, Shariette noticed a change in the underground apothecary. ‘The medicines are gone. These are only used in minuscule amounts for brainwashing and interrogation.’ 

A sense of foreboding churned in her stomach. Just then, a timid knock came, and a young maid peeked her head in. “L-Lady Sasha. Lady Blanche requests your presence immediately.” A gash from a blade marked the maid’s cheek. Shariette rose, offering her a salve to prevent infection. 

“N-No. You were punished for this before.” 

[It’s okay.] 

Unlike the maid, Shariette healed quickly, even from poison or knife wounds. Recognizing the silent words from her moving lips, the maid’s face crumpled. Sasha Argen. The bastard child of the lord, the witch’s daughter, the apothecary of the basement. There were many other names for this young woman. Toy, lab rat, things like that. But the girl knew the face hidden beneath that pale mask. 

The only person in Argen Castle who saw them as human. Someone who endlessly poured out life in this vast swamp of death, yet couldn’t save herself. 

“Be careful. A little while ago, Master Matthias also…, gasp!” The maid clapped her hands over her mouth. A beat late, Shariette followed the maid’s gaze down to her own hands. Sharp cuts, as if from glass, appeared spontaneously, welling with blood. 

“That wound, Lady Blanche did it again…!” 

‘Showing off her temper again, I see.’ 

Shariette casually wiped her hands on her robe. The precious princess of House Argen was as fragile as glass despite her fiery temper. So, Shariette, with her exceptional healing ability, took on the role of absorbing and dealing with Blanche’s injuries and pain. 

This was part of her “primary use,” as mentioned earlier. It was simply a matter of efficiency and causality. This healing ability should have been Blanche’s blessing, not hers. She quickly pressed the salve into the maid’s hand and sent her away before she burst into tears. 

“Hey! Why are you so late?!” As Shariette opened the door to Blanche’s room on the third floor, a shriek greeted her. 

“Did you even make this properly?! Why isn’t the brainwashing working yet?!” 

That’s impossible. Shariette was confident in her skills as an apothecary, second to none. She lifted her head to see a man sitting before the ornate tea table. He was as beautiful as a painting. If it weren’t for the gag in his mouth, his hands tied behind his back, and the expression that looked like it came straight from hell. 

“…!” 

Beneath his tousled, raven hair, a pair of ruby eyes blazed. His gaze, desperately clinging to consciousness, locked onto Shariette. Rage, humiliation, and murderous intent radiated from his burning eyes. 

‘Sparkly…’ 

Mesmerized, Shariette quickly averted her gaze.