Maybe having followed that entity was a bad idea, but giving up in the middle of that situation seemed a bit extreme to do. Artemisia looked at the white immensity as she walked with that being, each step made her regret her decision even more, it was a bad choice.And then there was the fact that she was the one who wanted to find out more about the family curse, abandoning that would be an extremely shameful sign of cowardice. The only one to blame for being in that situation was Artemisia, the creature being there or not was just a curious part of the consequence.“You've heard his whole story, haven't you?” a creature asked as they stopped in front of a flower bed full of tulips."Yes." The young woman smiled, looking closely at the small flowers that grew amidst the blanket of snow. She had heard of these things before, flowers that bloomed during the winter, growing through the snow and into the dim sunlight. Artemisia didn't know how to explain it very well, but that vision ma

She stood staring at the countertop, for several minutes her mind had begun to get unbearably high. Part of the young woman was trying to believe that Geon had never really said whether or not he knew about what happened to Artemisia, even before she was "born," it had said only a small omission, nothing that was important enough that it could hurt or give that nagging feeling of being deceived. On the other hand, the other voice that screamed in Artemisia's mind said how much she would have been spared from all that misfortune, would not have freed her from more than twenty years of such agony, but would have saved her long enough for the young woman to understand everything that had happened and had happened. She could taste the bitter taste of betrayal, that pungent thing that stuck to her taste buds and stayed there until the young woman went mad with so much bitterness. She wanted to believe that it would give the final card of her insanity, finally letting what was supposed to

The rest of the day Artemisia remained only immersed in her own thoughts, especially after discovering that one of the culprits of her current state is dead. The young woman really wanted to feel guilty for killing someone. Well, she felt guilty, but for that particular someone, Artemisia couldn't feel any twinges of kindness or empathy. An old subject? Yes, but the pain did not age, it renewed itself again and again, remaining fresh. It was only because the young woman couldn't feel guilty for killing the woman, she was still trying to figure out how the hell she had done that, since it was supposed to be for Hyacinth to be immortal, from earth to earth, being in a vicious circle of life.As she pulled the covers so she could warm herself from the cold that was beginning to stick to Artemisia's bones, she could feel that there was so much more to it. How would she kill such an old being, when even Death herself couldn't do that? Artemisia didn't know much of that world she had been

Artemisia leaned her body against the chair entirely, the truth hurting more than she could have imagined. She could tell that the stages of grief hit her too fast, so the young woman was already in anger. An outsized hatred of herself. Artemisia knew it was deadly, she saw her father die, the nannies die, the plants, the animals. It was clear as the day that it was her curse, but knowing it was so painful that it made the young woman want to vomit up all the sweets she had eaten. Suddenly something hit her too, a memory that involved stories. It was almost like a blur, but if Artemisia tried hard, she could understand that it had been a dream, a strange and a little disjointed dream. In it were three books, each of which bore a strange memory of the young woman. The first was a debt, of this she remembered better than the others, the second was pure pain, the same pain she had felt when Leonore opened that book of leather red as blood. The young woman raised her face looking towa