#55

Crack!

The split firewood made a hollow sound and bounced to both sides. At the same time, her husband’s arm holding the axe fell downward in a short arc. It looked as if he was about to drop the axe, causing Griselda to startle and reflexively make a grabbing motion.

However, her husband merely let his arm droop without actually dropping the axe. The reddish rusted metal blade swayed next to his foot.

“I tried hard. I tried cutting… and stabbing. But it still wouldn’t die.”

Her husband spoke while receiving the blazing sunlight pouring into the open space on his back. What could he mean by this? His complexion, shadowed by the backlight, was expressionless as usual, just iron-gray.

“I should have killed it… I don’t know how.”

Drip, the sweat that had gathered on his eyebrows ran down, parting his eyelid and gathering on his eyelashes. Her husband slightly lowered his head and wiped his eyes with his empty hand. It was the expression and gesture of someone who was far from joyful, rather a bit at a loss, and certainly not the reaction Griselda had expected.

“Kill? What are you talking about?”

Griselda showed a bewildered expression to her husband, who was calmly reporting his failure. She doubted if he had properly heard what she said. Her heart, which had been overflowing with joy just moments ago, suddenly became unsettled.

Just before, she had told him that a child had been conceived in her womb. It was such wonderful news, yet suddenly he was talking about killing something?

Setting aside the ominous content that was disturbing just to hear, her husband’s attitude was in no way the delight of a man about to become a father. His eyes alone remained dry within his damp face as he looked at Griselda.

“Don’t you understand, Griselda? I told you before that the child I saw in my dream had blonde hair, right? It was… our child after all. So that thing… bewitched you… our child…”

Thud. The axe he finally threw down as if discarding it fell with a heavy sound.

“I don’t understand why.”

Her husband muttered lowly. He bent his head towards his chest and lightly grasped the back of his head. Griselda finally understood the meaning of her husband’s words.

This man was now worrying about the nightmare that had been tormenting him. Though he had acted as if nothing was wrong for a while, it seems the dream had continued all this time, he just hadn’t spoken of it. She hadn’t noticed. This man’s mind is not calm right now. As always, he can only express even the most terrible anxiety in stony silence.

“Albe, calm down.”

Griselda took her husband’s hands and lowered them. She cupped his cheeks, which could barely look ahead. She met his deeply furrowed eyes. It was as if a wave that had retreated to the very tips of his toes, swelling greatly, was now belatedly surging up, churning only behind his eyes. She saw her husband tightly press his lips closed.

Griselda tried to soothe him.

“I understand you tried hard. So what if you couldn’t catch it? It’s all just a dream anyway. Don’t worry about it so much.”

“No… it’s not.”

Her husband shook his head sideways while still held by Griselda. Griselda swallowed for a moment. It was because she felt something like a glint in his eyes cutting through his pale face in the gaps as he shook. Her husband’s eyes were sharp without the slightest distortion. A bluish sharpness. Somehow familiar. That, though quiet, was the same aura of madness often seen in the Count.

Like someone who had just killed someone as he said, or who had nearly died himself.

Griselda’s eyebrows unknowingly tensed. It was a feeling of all the nightmares she couldn’t believe even when she saw them, and couldn’t speak of even when she knew, lining up neatly and gradually gnawing at her chest. Like sand pouring through a narrow hole, Griselda’s heart began to die a little from that moment.

“You don’t understand.”

Her husband said, closing his eyes.

“What don’t I understand?”

Griselda calmly asked back, trying hard to hide her simmering feelings. She muttered softly under her breath, “You’re the one who doesn’t understand.” She was getting rather sick of the ominous story she had heard from Sieglinde, and the madness that had been continuing for several years now since the day this fortress welcomed the Count.

Of course, most of it was the madness of one man, the Count, but in truth it didn’t matter whose it was. If it took the same form, it was all the same to her. The influence of her eldest son, who had been showing increasingly strange behavior lately and grating on her nerves, was also significant.

“…It’s not just a dream.”

Her husband said, barely audibly.

“It’s not an illusion either. That thing… comes to find me. No, maybe it just appears… I’m not sure.”

“Albe.”

“It may sound crazy, but listen.”

Her husband cut off Griselda’s voice and grabbed her wrists, lowering her hands. It was a grip that seemed anxious, as if she might run away. The pressed flesh stung and hurt from the strong grasp.

Then a brief silence. Her husband’s eyelids, which had been tightly closed enough to wrinkle his nose bridge, opened again. With a gaze sharper than before, he briefly scanned their surroundings, then moistened his lips once as if nervous and lowered his chin to Griselda’s ear.

“That thing, you know, day and night… it appears here and there. Sometimes standing in the shadow of the castle walls, sometimes in a secluded corner. Occasionally even hanging upside down from the ceiling of the hall… Sometimes it’s seen near the feed trough in the stable… Every time I run over, it disappears without fail, but a few times when it appeared in our bedroom, I almost managed to grab it with these hands.”

“That can’t be…”

Possible. It’s just a dream. Griselda couldn’t bring herself to finish her words. Instead, she nearly let out a groan. Her wrist, held by her husband, now felt like it would break from the pain. However, her husband didn’t seem to notice Griselda’s increasingly contorted expression at all. His focus was completely hazy.

“It’s like some kind of smoke. As I said, it can’t be caught, stabbed, or cut… It’s strange. No one except me has witnessed that monstrous thing. Not a single rumor to be heard. There’s no way it wouldn’t be noticed… It’s strange… It’s strange, Griselda. Maybe… I’ve gone mad after all.”

“No, you’re not…”

She couldn’t comfort him by saying he wasn’t mad. Before Griselda could respond, her husband continued the end of his question.

“No. I see it clearly. Lately, that thing even speaks to me. ‘Soon’, it says. Just one word. Soon. Soon. What… what on earth is ‘soon’…”

“Well, that’s what you were saying…”

“Ah, right. What else could it be…. I know too, Griselda…. Griselda, do you understand what that thing means by ‘soon’? You believe me, don’t you? No one else believes me but you.”

“Albe.”

“Now that you’re pregnant, I really need to kill it before anything happens. That unknown thing…. It seems like I might be able to catch it, but I don’t know how… How…”

Though her wrist was gradually becoming more numb, her husband’s self-questioning showed no signs of ending. Griselda began to subtly twist her body. Even if she tried to listen patiently, it was too painful to stay still any longer. Just as Griselda was about to ask him to let her go…

“Ah.”

Her husband, who had been muttering to himself without focusing his gaze on any one place, suddenly lifted his face. His slightly parted lips looked a bit dazed, but his eyes, now much more alive than before, rose above Griselda’s head. They quickly came back down to focus on Griselda. It seemed as if he had thought of some good idea.

“Come to think of it, yesterday…”

“Albe, please!”

But that was the moment Griselda’s patience snapped. Yesterday, what? She didn’t want to hear it. She twisted her shoulders this way and that and yanked her wrist free. It was almost as if she threw her upper body backward. She retreated two steps like that. Her husband, having suddenly lost his grip on her, seemed quite taken aback. He couldn’t even blink, his empty hand left hanging in the air.

“Can’t you stop now?”

Griselda, finally free from the restraint, shuddered as if she couldn’t bear it anymore. Then she brought both wrists in front of her chest and rubbed them alternately. Tears leaked out. It was because her abraded skin hurt, and her heart was deeply wounded.

“I brought such good news, and you act like a madman. You’re making me anxious too.”

Her husband seemed greatly shocked by Griselda’s words. The faint flush of color that had lingered at the corners of his eyes could be seen washing away instantly from under his eyes to the tip of his chin. Griselda deliberately turned away from him and continued speaking.

“And you know what? If it’s nonsense, I’m really… sick of it now. It’s enough just tending to the Count, who changes twenty times a day… Moreover, you. What did you say to me before? When I made an effort to open up to you, you said it was all ‘just a dream’, didn’t you? So you shouldn’t go on and on to me about the ‘phantom’ you say you saw either. I don’t want to hear it.”

Her husband said nothing. His chest, showing no sign of even small movements, seemed to be stabbing his own neck, as if he wasn’t breathing properly. Griselda thought, This man, his heart must be completely scraped raw by the sandpaper I’m pushing at him now.

But somehow she couldn’t stop. Even knowing that every word would become an arrow aimed at her husband, that subtle cruelty was rather refreshing. She was surprised at herself with each word she uttered, not having realized that the unpleasant sensation that occasionally pricked a corner of her heart was such a thing.

She shouldn’t have done it.

“…I haven’t said anything until now, but, you know, I’m very tired these days too. Here and there, everywhere I step and everywhere I am, it’s all full of strange and insane people… and now you too… talking like a madman… it makes me feel like I’m going mad too.”

If voices had color, hers that day would surely have been black.

Griselda learned for the first time that day. That resentment is something that sometimes accumulates unknowingly like filth, rotting little by little, and then bursts out all at once the moment the surface is pricked. And that resentment often erupts at the worst moment, in the most vicious form.

Moreover, once emotions were unleashed, they were not easily folded back.

“You shouldn’t be like this. In the end, mine was just a dream, and yours is just a dream too. So…”

In the end, she continued to mold the surface of the filth, chewing her lips.

“Pull yourself… together.”

She shouldn’t have done it.

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between the two. It had felt refreshing when emptying out, but now after pouring it all out, her husband’s eyes slowly pierced into her heart, which felt heavier instead.

Griselda lowered her face diagonally to avoid that gaze. Her breathing was stifled. Her toes tingled for no reason, making it impossible to stay still. In the end, she turned her back. Though not entirely without regret, she felt no inclination to apologize right away.

It’s not my fault.

Her husband didn’t stop her. It was when Griselda, who had let out a small sigh, had taken a few steps forward.

Her husband’s voice came over her shoulder.