If I Disobey the Duke

Shattered (2)

After a few days of yelling, a voice that had stopped resounding echoed through the corridors of the dungeon.

“The blood of the devil! Vladislav de Winter! Children of God are not afraid of martyrdom! No matter how much persecution you inflict, one day you will help our comrades…”

“Fuck. Before that, I’ll break your head, so shut up! You bald bastard!” Rocus, who had been lying on the stone floor as black as black water, jumped up. He slammed the thick iron door.

The extremist priest’s noise was replaced by the echo of the iron gate kicking off.

Rocus crumpled his face and leaned against the wall. The shock that climbed up his leg touched his unhealed shoulder. “Ugh… Fuck….”

The splint that roughly fixed his arm was too loose. It was the pain of stabbing an iron skewer into his body. He gritted his teeth. His blood was circulating so fast that it felt like it was gushing out of the nape of his neck and shoulders.

It was fortunate that he was used to pain. If he had been an ordinary person, he would have suffered more.

He leaned against the wall and slipped and fell to the floor. Yellow sunlight coming through a small square window shone on half of his face.

He wiped his pale face with his hands, like those of a brown bear’s paws. His red beard, which had grown over the past few days, was irritating to touch.

Why?

A vague question lingered over and over, and it slipped between his mouth.

Shooting a gun. Imprisoned. This wasn’t such a trivial issue. Something broke. The thing that was connecting him and his sister.

He wasn’t conscious of it, but he knew it instinctively. The feeling of loss clenched his throat.

“How are you now….”

He knew very well that she was a sister who would rather be beaten by her husband than abandon her family.

There was a time when he was not able to overcome the frustrating situation and thus beat up his sister’s ex-husband. After that, what was the status of his sister in the house? He still didn’t know.

However, her current husband was different from her ex-husbands.

I’m really sorry.

If he had said it that way, maybe he would have been convinced.

[…I won’t go back. Rocus.]

Anger rose in him and he suddenly forgot even the pain. Something boiled in his throat with a sense of betrayal. A crimson rage burst in his head.

There was no way to vent his anger, so he howled like an animal and slapped himself in the chest.

“Argh! Ouch!” Rocus only ceased when it felt like his limbs were torn apart.

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After stopping his self-harm, he lowered his head and let out a deep sigh. His thick chest trembled loudly.

“…She shouldn’t have married that mongrel bastard in the first place. Yeah. She’s mentally stuck. Just like when she was young…”

That time when his sister and mother abandoned the family. This was the first time since then that his sister abandoned her family.

In other words, it was clear that her was in a mental state similar to that time now.

“Hysteria.” He let out a long sigh that had been silenced.

Duke Vladislav de Winter. Just by looking at the collection of all kinds of assholes in the territory, it was clear that he was some sort of psycho.

Living with a person like that, of course, would lead to confusion. She was a poor woman.

Rocus leaned his back against the wall and staggered to his feet. “What should I do with my sister and that mongrel bastard?”

Suddenly, he heard footsteps from several people in the hallway. Regular intervals. It was clear that they were from soldiers.

The moment he turned his head while leaning against the wall, the iron door creaked as the lock was being opened from outside. The door swung open inward, and a couple of guards entered first.

“The lord is here. Show some respect.”

The rushing soldiers pulled him in and kicked him behind his knee. Rocus let out a small moan and had no choice but to kneel on the floor. The stone floor against his shin was cold.

A man so tall that the door looked low hurried in. A dark mist seemed to rise from the ground he stepped on.

Black hair, like an abyss, neatly combed without a single stray strand. Cold, emotionless gray eyes.

A deep and clear shadow was cast on the sharply shaped features.

Isn’t it said that he was the lord of the apostate?

He was the kind of man who would crush any other to establish his own order.

“Leave.”

The guards left in an instant. There was a heavy sound of the iron door closing in the silence.

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Rocus clenched his fists and raised his head. “I see. You look fine this time, Your Excellency the Duke.”

Was it because of his self-esteem? It was a voice that did not succumb to fear and finally seized the hostility.

“You,” A low voice, as if drawn from the deep seabed. Rocus’s body stiffened at the pressure. “You are afraid of me.”

Rocus’s lips reflexively dried. His instinct was screaming. That the man in front of him was a predator.

Vlad slowly shook his head and looked down at Rocus. “Aren’t you trembling like a mouse thrown into a cage? That’s sad.”