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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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Chapter 98 - The Rose (10)
A chill lingered in the air.
The room was now swallowed by darkness.
Moments ago, it had been a space where life stirred faintly, but as dawn approached, it fell into complete stillness.
Amid the dim shadows, only the flicker of a candle remained, wavering precariously.
Perhaps it resembled the autumn outside the window.
The fading season was mirrored in the somber view.
On a patch of ground untouched even by starlight, a single rose bloomed forlornly.
Its petals seemed as if they might wilt at any moment.
"...…"
After the treatment had concluded.
The girl left behind had been restlessly tugging at her blanket.
Even though the silence had blanketed the surroundings for some time, the voice still echoed in the Rose’s ears.
It was the serpent’s parting words.
– You’re afraid, aren’t you?
The cold voice burrowed deep into her wounds.
Her heart, already in turmoil, grew louder in its restlessness.
She slowly lifted her body from the bed.
As her weakened legs met the ground, a sudden wave of dizziness struck her head with force.
The girl staggered, offering no resistance to the sensation.
– Are you really satisfied with that?
Those words lingered deeply.
They pierced like thorns, refusing to fall away, delivering a constant and grating pain.
But the hallucinations interwoven with her consciousness only grew stronger.
– Princess Charlotte would be heartbroken.
– Because she cherishes you.
– What will you do if she truly leaves you?
The serpent’s cunning tongue whispered.
Predicting the solitary fate of one left utterly alone.
– If that happens, there will be no one left by your side.
At those words…
For a fleeting moment, Elise felt as though her breath had stopped.
‘Sister… would leave?’
The one person who visited her on this lonely star.
The person who, beyond her tired eyes, hid warmth and care.
The foolish person who never gave up on her ailing younger sister, even when wounded by sharp thorns.
Such a person leaving?
‘...It’s what I wanted.’
She forced herself to whisper inwardly.
Pretending it didn’t matter.
This was the outcome she had sought from the start, after all.
Elise knew.
She knew how devoted her sister was to her.
She wanted to cling to her, to act spoiled, but she also understood she couldn’t allow herself to.
Reality was far too cruel for that.
– At most, another year.
Five years ago.
She had received her terminal diagnosis at a young age.
Despite the Little Prince’s desperate efforts, the Rose’s short life was a foregone conclusion.
That day, for the first time, her sister cried in front of her.
– Sister… is suffering because of me.
The girl had realized too late.
How much of a burden her existence was to her sister, who had only ever given.
The sight of her silently sobbing back was uniquely painful.
Her sister, who had always been radiant, now seemed ruined because of her.
The guilt she felt watching her tears was unbearable.
And so, the Rose could no longer remain by the Little Prince’s side.
She had run away.
– I have to distance myself from her.
So her sister wouldn’t hurt anymore.
So she might hate her instead.
So that if she were to close her eyes tomorrow, her kind-hearted sister wouldn’t be scarred by her loss.
The Rose had resolved to push the Little Prince away.
– Because it’s all my fault.
It was foolish, but…
She had been young.
To avoid causing wounds, she chose to sever the connection.
Such was the reason for the Rose’s thorns.
But what she had overlooked was that her sister’s devotion couldn’t be stopped by something so trivial.
The Little Prince approached time and again, even when her fingers were pricked and bloodied.
– Please, just leave me alone.
The younger sister who tried to push her away.
The older sister who tried to hold on.
The toxic dynamic worsened over time and continued into the present.
She had long since surpassed the one year given to her by the doctors.
But—
It hadn’t brought hope.
It had only extended her torment.
The Rose was like petals slowly wilting.
Her condition, once it began to deteriorate, never improved.
The curse grew crueler, tormenting her more viciously with each passing day.
All she could do was cling to life, barely enduring day by day.
– Cough, cough…!
The curse brought misery to everyone.
Elise screamed daily in unbearable pain.
Her sister shed silent tears, unable to do anything for her.
And still, neither of their wills bent.
As the girl chewed over her past memories, she muttered bitterly to herself.
“I tried everything to push her away…”
It should have been a relief.
If the serpent’s words were true…
If he succeeded in convincing her sister to turn away, the Rose could finally feel at ease.
Yes.
That’s how it should have been.
“Then why…”
Why did it hurt so much?
Though she had spent years pushing her sister away, the thought of her truly leaving made her head spin.
Her chest ached so fiercely it felt hard to breathe.
“Hah… ngh.”
The reason was simple.
Like the Rose in the fairytale, the love hidden behind her thorns had been sharp.
Just because something is sharp doesn’t mean it’s hatred.
Just because something is soft doesn’t mean it’s love.
Hatred can sometimes be gentle.
In her case, it was a sharp love.
How could she feel relief?
This current situation strayed too far from the truth she had hidden within her petals.
She bit her lip in anguish.
‘My head hurts.’
She felt suffocated.
Gripping her stifled chest, her thoughts veered in a darker direction.
A fundamental question.
‘Why?’
Why did it have to be her?
The curse bestowed by God.
An incurable disease that struck only two or three people in a century.
What sin had she been born with to bear such a heavy punishment?
A deep shadow whispered.
‘Did it have to be me…?’
At the same time, memories of her wretched life and a growing hatred bubbled to the surface.
A hatred as sharp as thorns.
Ten years spent neither living nor dying.
Abandoned by her father, cast out from the world, enduring a hellish battle against her illness.
She had been profoundly lonely.
‘An outcast.’
She didn’t intend to deny it.
No.
She embraced it.
That was the life she had always known.
Looking back on the years, no one had ever stood by her side.
The girl often thought—
Perhaps—
It would have been better not to have been born at all.
“Cough…!”
A sudden fit of coughing.
Her vision blurred.
She thought the attacks had subsided for a while, but they had returned without fail.
Elise rummaged through a nearby shelf.
Thud.
Her fingers found a pocketknife.
She unwrapped the bandage from her wrist and brought the blade to her exposed skin.
The moment the blade met flesh…
Slice.
A fresh mark was carved over countless scars.
A sharp pain spread through her arm, and soon the fit subsided.
It was a fleeting solution.
Drip.
Red droplets fell.
A dark crimson rose bloomed on the floor.
"...…"
The girl paused briefly, then began moving the blade again.
She drew deliberate lines across her soft skin.
A difficult-to-describe sense of liberation.
The wounds stung fiercely, but the fleeting relief was too sweet to resist.
As if enchanted, she continued drawing line after line.
– Do you truly wish for such an ending?
The hallucination resumed.
She bit her lips tightly.
Unraveling the bandage on her other wrist, she began staining it with crimson once more.
Clear droplets fell over the stains.
Tears.
‘When will it end?’
When would this miserable existence finally cease?
Such thoughts drove her to move the blade recklessly.
Drawing long lines across pale skin, droplets of blood welled up in the gaps.
For a brief moment, the attacks stopped.
She couldn’t escape this addictive pain.
Even in her wretched life, it seemed to offer her fleeting peace.
Thud.
Her legs gave out beneath her.
Sinking to the floor, Elise continued her desperate actions.
With rhythmic drops, petals began to scatter.
Before long, the floor around her was covered with beautiful roses.
Staring at the garden she had created, she sobbed even harder.
Yet her eyes remained lifeless.
“Hic… ngh.”
She drowned in the overwhelming scent.
Her vision blurred.
– I don’t want to live.
In truth—
She didn’t want to die.
She hated the pain that tore her apart, the attacks that struck her nightly, and the blood staining her sleeves.
She wanted it all to stop.
But she knew it was impossible.
So long as she bore this curse, she couldn’t escape it until her death.
Droplets of dew fell like tears.
Scratch, scratch.
The sound continued for some time.
Her appearance was in shambles.
As if her arms weren’t enough, she reached for the bandage around her neck.
Covered in blood, her hand moved to her throat when…
“Your Highness.”
Whoosh.
Arms wrapped around her from behind.
Startled, she struggled, but the strong hold encased her completely.
A gentle voice whispered in her ear.
“Shh… It’s okay.”
A familiar hand.
The boy who had taunted her in recent days, throwing out his biting remarks.
When she turned her head, she saw his muted golden hair.
“It’s all right. I’m here now…”
His warmth enveloped her shoulders.
The icy Rose slowly melted into his embrace.
Clatter.
The knife fell from her hand.
“Good. Just like this.”
The serpent stroked her hair, as if waiting for her to calm down.
Perhaps accepting his intention, Elise soon stopped resisting.
Only then did the boy smile.
“Rest well.”
For a long while, they sat there, leaning into each other’s warmth, gradually dispelling the cold air.
* * *
Some time later, when the tense atmosphere had fully subsided…
We sat across from each other, gazing silently.
The proximity was close enough to intertwine our breaths, yet it didn’t feel awkward.
It was purely an interaction for the sake of treatment.
I was carefully wrapping bandages around her scarred arms.
"...…"
Elise held out her arm wordlessly.
Her wrists were a wreck.
It was hard to say how many years she had repeated this act, as there were countless marks from before today.
The skin on certain parts of her arms was so marred that its texture had changed.
I swallowed a bitter sigh.
As I gently wiped away the blood, I spread disinfectant over her numerous wounds.
It would surely sting, yet the Rose didn’t even flinch.
Perhaps, after a lifetime of living with her curse, ordinary pain no longer affected her.
She resembled a doll with broken strings.
“Your Highness.”
"...…"
Her green eyes were fixed on me.
Though they appeared unfocused, I spoke steadily, undeterred.
She was surely listening.
“As your physician, I must say this.”
There were many things we needed to discuss.
“You must not harm yourself.”
"...…"
“I understand that you find relief in the pain. But it is detrimental to your mental health and severely hinders your physical recovery.”
I offered my words as a plea.
As I delivered each piece of advice, I soon moved to the main issue I had set aside.
Our gazes met in the still air.
Her green eyes blinked slowly, showing no hint of their usual sharpness, only a deeply buried exhaustion.
But I could see the longing hidden within those depths.
“Your Highness.”
This was the moment I had been waiting for.
A moment when her resolve had faltered, when her sharp thorns had lowered.
“I’ll ask you one last time.”
I leaned in closer.
As our gazes remained locked, I gently held her chin and tilted her face upward.
The space between us grew impossibly small, our breaths mingling.
Hovering just on the edge, a faint smile crept onto my lips.
I asked her…
“Do you truly not wish to live?”
This time, it would be an offer she couldn’t refuse.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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