A Fairytale for Wizards

While approaching it, she heard a sharp, whipping sound and chatter.

“How dare you lie before my eyes?!”

“This is not a lie… Aargh!”

She heard the sharp sound of someone being whipped. Since she was used to being whipped, she was certain of the noise. After blowing out her candle, she approached the direction of the light.

“This is hers? Stop talking nonsense. Where did you steal this from? Tell the truth already!”

“I’m not lying. I really didn’t steal it, Lady…”

The moaning voice sounded familiar. Azriel felt her blood run cold. The light was coming from a hole about the size of a finger on one side of the passage walls and located above her eye level. She had to set her feet in between the bricks jutting out from the side while hanging onto the wall in order to peek inside.

As soon as she looked inside, she knew where it was. It was one of the dungeon cells in Colte Castle similar to the one she had been locked in during the earring incident. A red-haired girl was crouched there while another whipped her.

“May…!”

Azriel covered her mouth, barely managing to stop herself from calling out the girl’s name. Behind the servant who was whipping the girl was Deborah Colte, who sat on a chair. When she made a gesture, the man stopped whipping.

“Lady, Lady, please…”

Maylie looked up at Deborah, her face distorted with tears and her nose running. Deborah lifted one corner of her mouth. Azriel knew well what that expression meant. She always put on that face when she was about to have her way, whether it was right or wrong.

“You’re not going to tell me until the end, aren’t you? Great. I’ll find out where you stole it from myself.”

“I didn’t steal…”

“Shut up! You’re already guilty, and if you want to leave here alive, you should choose your answer wisely. Where is the other shoe?” 

The object Deborah held up sparkled in the light. It was a glass shoe with jewels that glimmered like stars. The shoe that had gone missing in Azriel’s room was dangling in Deborah’s hand. Maylie spoke again with tears in her eyes.

“I will, I will give the other one to you, so please save Azriel. You could do it, Lady…”

“Give what? This is not even yours.”

“This belongs to Azriel!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How can a slave get such a precious shoe? How dare you try to make a deal with me over a stolen item?”

“She was taken in the daytime but hasn’t come out of the room even though the sun is down…”

“What about it?”

“She’s been serving you the whole time. She was whipped every day instead of you. Please, have mercy on her for once in your life, Lady, please…”

“Are you going to come to your senses after more whipping? Do you really want to die? I’m asking where the other one is!”

Azriel’s face paled as she watched Maylie plead and Deborah scream sharply.

Azriel could guess how this all came to be. Maylie must have become anxious upon learning that Azriel had been dragged away by the wizard, and since they did not come out of the guest room even after the sun went down, she could only imagine the worst-case scenarios. For a commoner and a maid like Maylie, however, there was no way for her to save Azriel. If there was anyone who could get Azriel back from the wizard, it was a member of the Colte family. But the Count was the one who had handed Azriel over in the first place, and Damon would want to get his hands on her after saving her. The Countess had once whipped Azriel and imprisoned her in the dungeon instead of exposing her daughter’s fault during the earring incident, so the only person who had the slightest chance of helping her was Deborah.

Of course, Maylie also knew well that Deborah was arrogant and ill-tempered. Nonetheless, the reason she had faith in Deborah was that she had heard about the bond between whipping children and their aristocratic counterparts. Many noble children would feel sympathy for the whipping children who were punished in their stead and would form tight bonds with them. It was common for a whipping child to become the closest associate of a noble child even into adulthood, which is why the nobility would carefully pick their children’s whipping child.

There was no such bond between Deborah and Azriel, though. Deborah did not consider Azriel as anything more than an object. She even sought to find ways to get her whipped even more. Other servants might not have known about this, but Maylie knew the truth to some extent since she was aware of how badly injured Azriel’s back was. Despite knowing all she did, Maylie still decided to take a chance and have faith there was a glimmer of a bond to rescue her friend, even though such a bond more than likely did not exist. She did not believe that Deborah would help Azriel out of the goodness of her heart without gain. To convince the greedy young lady, she needed more incentive. What Maylie must have thought of at that moment were Azriel’s glass shoes. But even after showing one of the shoes as a potential reward to Deborah, she coldly turned her back on the request to help Azriel. Maylie had not neglected to say that she would give the other shoe to Deborah once Azriel was free.

“Good gracious, Maylie,” murmured Azriel. “Deborah will…”

Deborah was someone who would sooner whip her to death in order to forcibly take the shoe since she did not regard people outside of the nobility as people. She was not someone who would make a deal with nor complete a favor for a person like Maylie. Understanding the situation, Azriel groaned and covered her mouth with both hands. If it had been up to her, she would have never gone to Deborah. Maylie would have had a better chance of bringing the shoes to mercenaries.

“Please save Azriel, please, Lady!” Maylie pleaded faintly as she wept.“I will never tell you where the other shoe is until I see her…”

Annoyance and disgust spread on Deborah’s pretty face. She kicked Maylie, who clung onto her, and gave a look to the servant holding the whip. Maylie was neither an orphan nor a slave but a commoner maid with a sick mother and younger siblings. Deborah Colte, on the other hand, was a count’s daughter, who could get rid of a castle maid and claim she died accidentally or from sickness.

‘No!’

In an instant, as the whip was being raised again, Azriel looked back. Without taking the time to relight her candle, she madly dashed back the way she came. She threw the pack she had been carrying on the ground and crawled back up the well. As she hurried, she slipped and scratched her calf on a rock, drawing blood, but there was no time to notice the pain. She grabbed the rope and climbed back up. By the time she barely managed to raise her head out of the well, she was greeted by a half-moon hanging in the night sky. Beneath that, right next to the well, was a white figure standing completely still. Azriel stiffened in surprise, her upper body hanging over the edge of the well.

“Mr. Rhema…?”