To Embrace the Devil - Chapter 4
Because few had seen Diago in person after his long absence, countless fanciful stories spread like wildfire.
“They say he took in a Frostborn girl. Maybe he’s kinder than he looks.”
“He’s known to be just and faithful, after all.”
“How could he be so generous? I get irritated just talking to a Frostborn, especially that pale-faced girl. The apprentice who came from the craft guild totally fell for her yesterday.”
“Crazy! That fishy-smelling heretic.”
“Luckily, he ran off as soon as he found out she was Frostborn. Who’d want to associate with them?”
“They don’t even have citizenship. Even as a maid, I know I have more dignity than a Frostborn.”
Just then, the subject of their conversation, the Frostborn herself, walked by. It was Yelena.
Despite wearing worn clothes and a tattered apron, she hardly looked like a maid at first glance. People’s eyes were drawn to her face, making her simple attire fade into the background.
She was a melancholic beauty. Her delicate features carried sadness. Though just past adulthood, her eyes lacked vitality, instead filled with resignation.
Her skin was pale and smooth. Her eyes, unusually large for her small face, were strikingly blue. Her slender frame seemed fragile.
Even without adornment, she was more beautiful than many noblewomen or wealthy merchants’ daughters.
Had her hair not been silver, she would likely have received many suitors by now.
Yelena’s hair was braided and covered with a hood, but a few stray silver strands peeked out.
Silver hair was a symbol of the Frostborn and at the same time a mark of being a witch, marking one as a non-citizen.
The Frostborn were natives of the Frost Isles who had come to the continent during the Martinas family’s conquest.
Because they had lived isolated, they had their own language, culture, and distinctive appearance. After the conquest, those who fled to the continent endured exploitation and were treated as barbarians and were denied citizenship.
Recently, hatred and discrimination against the Frostborn had worsened.
“She has no expression or speech, she doesn’t seem human. Creepy.”
One maid spoke louder, as if to be overheard.
“Everyone close to her got sick and left the castle.”
“How is that possible? Is she really a witch?”
“Shh, be careful. If people start saying there’s a witch in the castle, that’ll be bad. Why doesn’t the lord kick her out…?”
Yelena was the only Frostborn maid in the manor.
Lowly and stupid, just a spoil of war Diago picked up during his first battle.
That was how the residence servants looked at her.
***
Thud! Yelena was shoved roughly and fell face-first onto the cold cellar floor. The chill of the stone walls seeped into her body.
“Ah…!”
Suddenly, a sharp pain flared as a rough, calloused hand grabbed her hair and yanked hard.
“Wear your hood properly. Your dirty hair is sticking out.”
Along with a gruff male voice came the sneering laughter of women.
As soon as the evening chores ended, Yelena was swiftly grabbed by a few servants and dragged to the dungeon beneath the main tower.
She wasn’t given any explanation.
Since the Marquis family moved into a modern building, the main tower had been left empty and had become a secret hideout where servants secretly gathered to whisper and commit misdeeds.
‘Here we go again.’
Yelena shivered and swallowed hard. She was used to this.
Since the plague had ravaged the city two years ago, bullying against the Frostborn had surged.
Frostborn who wandered alone at night were often dragged into alleys and beaten. With no citizenship, they couldn’t report abuse.
As more Frostborn moved to Mediol and mingled with the locals, endless conflict and violence erupted.
Among the servants, Fabio was infamous for his brutal temperament. He scowled as he spoke.
“They say you were ignoring the others during the day.”
Yelena rolled her eyes while still held by her hair, glancing sideways at the maids she’d passed earlier at the laundry.
Their eyes brimmed with blind hatred and malice.
Tormenting the powerless was a secret thrill that brought sadistic pleasure.
“……”
Yelena curled inward and remained silent.
She knew that trying to speak would only prolong her suffering.
Even if she got beaten, she wouldn’t die. They couldn’t stop her from working.
She would save enough strength to move and work again tomorrow.
Fabio growled.
“Get a knife.”
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