A Caged Bird Doesn't Cry - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The watchers had done their best—Yuhar could vouch for that much. Their only mistake was failing to anticipate that the song of one canary could lull so many to sleep at once.

By the time they regained their senses, Theodore and Laticia were already far beyond the ducal estate. Though they gave frantic chase, only Locardi was captured. He had sacrificed himself from the start, acting as a decoy to let his son escape.

"Due to Theodore Vuter's impaired mobility, they couldn't have gone far."

Even with his father's sacrifice, the two fugitives—naive and inexperienced—were still within Andrea's grasp. They had taken refuge in a small valley village that regularly supplied the estate with cheese and cured meats. After posting watchers for the time being, Yuhar returned without delay to report.

"We can apprehend them immediately if you wish."

Yuhar studied Andrea's pensive expression. Having long been aware of the dealings between Olivia and Locardi, Andrea had kept them under close watch. Yuhar expected fury at this failure, yet his superior's mood seemed surprisingly calm.

Did I misread him?

Trying to gauge his lord's thoughts yielded no further clues, so Yuhar wasn't entirely shocked by the unexpected order.

"No. Leave them be."

"Understood. It shall be done."

Though he complied without question, Yuhar was puzzled. Rumors said Andrea hadn't slept a single night without Laticia—why let her go now? Was it true, as some whispered, that he'd grown addicted to her song? But as always, Yuhar withdrew cleanly. It wasn't his place to question the Duke of Kalidnas.

Andrea sensed Yuhar's curiosity but saw no reason to offer explanations.

Laticia had fled.

Audacious, yes—but he had to admire the skill that put the entire estate's staff to sleep in an instant. It meant she could have escaped anytime she wished.

She stayed this long for Theodore Vuter's sake.

Andrea recalled old Paul, who had hidden Theodore's true nature to protect Laticia. He scoffed at his past self for briefly understanding the old man's motives. Did Theodore Vuter deserve to remain a warm memory? Trash only emitted stench, no matter how it was preserved.

"Sir... if perhaps..."

Yuhar hesitated, uncertain how to refer to Laticia. Calling a sane woman "canary" felt shameful, yet using her name seemed too familiar. He opted to drop the subject entirely.

"...if she's harmed—assaulted, for instance—should we intervene?"

"Unnecessary."

With Theodore rendered impotent, his capacity for harming Laticia was limited. Andrea felt at ease. He wanted Laticia to suffer bitterly from Theodore's true nature, to break completely. There would be time to retrieve the bird once it had nowhere else to go.

Yuhar pressed on gravely.

"Even if her life is endangered?"

Andrea nearly laughed aloud. As if he's capable of that. At most, the man would take out his frustrations. Still, he appreciated Yuhar's caution and humored him.

"Then retrieve the corpse."

Yuhar's pupils flickered briefly, delaying his response.

"...Understood."

Truthfully, Yuhar doubted he could stand idle if it came to that. Uneasy, he withdrew with awkward deference. Andrea lit a cigarette and paced slowly, watching the haze of smoke dissipate. A vague thought crossed his mind: the nights would feel long for a while.

***

Theodore's behavior after fleeing with Laticia unfolded largely as Andrea had anticipated. He showered her with endless curses, and Laticia endured obscenities she had never heard before in silence. She could only pity him, consumed by such venom.

Having learned the general situation from Locardi, Laticia had been forced to sing "Attain Repose"—the very song that had once put old Paul into a sleep so deep he never woke again. She had vowed never to sing it again, but the desperate circumstances left her no choice.

As she watched the sleeping Theodore, Laticia swallowed her tears.

Theo…

The Theodore she had searched for so desperately was a pitiful sight—covered in blood and reeking of decay. When she hurried to support him, he flailed his hands like a blind man who had dropped his cane. Realizing his closed eyes weren't just due to dried blood, she felt as if she were tumbling over a cliff.

A part of her was glad they were finally alone together. Was she going mad, to feel joy when Theodore was suffering so?

"Theodore, I'll protect you now. I won't let anyone hurt you."

After finding a seemingly safe hiding place, Laticia carefully cleaned Theodore, trying to reassure him. Perhaps her feelings reached him—he smiled faintly. It was the first smile she had seen from him since leaving the estate, and her heart swelled with a fragile hope—a hope that was immediately dashed into the mud.

"You crazy bit¢h."

"……"

Had she heard correctly? Disbelieving, Laticia stared blankly at Theodore.

"Are you completely insane?" he ranted. "What can you possibly protect? I've already lost everything."

His finger pointed to the withered fabric over his groin.

"You saw it when you washed me, didn't you? What he did to me. And you still have the nerve to spout that nonsense?"

Laticia knew his manhood had been destroyed. She had gently cleaned the area where his testicles had been cut away, focusing only on causing him no pain.

"Theo."

She wanted to comfort him, just as he had once comforted her in the garden.

"You said it before—what matters is the heart. I don't care—"

Before she could finish, Theodore shook his head wildly and burst into crazed laughter.

"Wahahaha! Lati, oh, Lati!"

He laughed as if he might choke, then abruptly stopped and turned his head toward her. Though his eyes were hollow sockets, he raised his brows as if he could see her and spat coldly,

"Die. Just die, Lati. Drop dead!"

Laticia covered her ears and staggered back. Then she sang—as if to block out his curses. As the melody left her lips, Theodore laughed madly again.

"Haha, damn it! Don't want to hear it, is that it? Huh? Lati, you damned bit¢h!"

His fit didn't last long. Cursing until the last moment, he finally succumbed to her song. Even after he fell asleep, Laticia continued singing, afraid he might wake again.

She swore it wasn't because she was afraid of or disliked Theodore himself. She believed anyone in his position would act the same. Theodore wasn't the one at fault—the villain was her master, Andrea Kalidnas.

How can a person do something so horrific…

Biting her lip against the rising resentment, she trembled with a fury she had never known, pacing the small room. Revenge. She would have her revenge on the Duke for what he had done to Theodore.

But for now, she had no means. Overwhelmed by helplessness and exhausted by the sheer drain of hating someone, she soon grew weary.

Tomorrow… tomorrow…

Maybe Theodore will have calmed down a little? His stability was the priority now. If she cared for him diligently, he would surely improve. Revenge could wait until then. She tried not to view their situation entirely pessimistically. As long as she was with Theodore, she believed a moment of hope would surely come.

Contrary to her wishes, their situation only worsened. The most pressing issue was food. While it was a small mercy that Theodore's wounds were healing well, his returning strength only made him treat her more cruelly.

"Theo, it's not much, but please eat."

Laticia tried desperately to ensure Theodore didn't go hungry, even if she did. Today, she offered him all the bread and milk she had been lucky enough to receive as alms. When she guided his hand to the broken bread and the cup handle, he sneered.

"Bread again? You eat it."

"Sorry…"

As a sl@ve, Laticia was used to hunger, but it seemed the son of a wealthy sl@ve trader couldn't stomach it. Staring at the stale, hardened bread, she swallowed her saliva. Suddenly, inexplicably, she remembered the meals she had shared with the Duke—her marveling at the plump, round bread, and him watching her.

"You still need to eat, Theo."

Trying to erase the memory, she pressed the bread on him more insistently. Perhaps he was hungry enough, for this time he accepted without complaint. Sitting with her knees drawn up, Laticia quietly listened to him chew the last piece, not even offering her a crumb.

Abruptly, she recalled the Duke's hand clearing her plate, then offering her a fork laden with meat. While she ate until she could hold no more, he had silently watched her, drinking wine—just as she now watched over Theodore.

Again…

Why did she keep thinking of someone she didn't want to remember? Swallowed by anguish, she sighed softly—stifling it, afraid of irritating Theodore, who now flared up at the slightest provocation. She understood it all.

Really, it was nothing. That Theodore saw her as a living curse, that he sometimes screamed at her to die in a fit—it was all fine. But she was troubled by how his expression was changing. Was the Theodore before her really the one she had known?

His face had grown so harsh he seemed like a stranger wearing Theodore's skin. The kind face that used to smile so readily was nowhere to be found. The lips that once sang of flowers and stars were now permanently twisted with vile curses. Sometimes, it confused her—wondering if the Theodore she once knew had ever truly existed.

What am I thinking?

She chastised herself each time. How could anyone, after having his body mutilated overnight, still smile and speak gently? As Laticia's understanding widened, Theodore's patience bottomed out, finally revealing his true colors.

It happened on a day like any other, when she had brought back bread and milk.

"Lati. Where do you get these things?"

"Huh…?"

Stunned by the unexpectedly gentle question—reminiscent of the old Theodore—she quickly collected herself and moved closer.

"If I sit at the alley entrance, kind people sometimes give me food."

"What is that? So you're begging."

"Well…"

It was shameful, but she had no other means. She had no money, no useful skills, her body was too weak for most work, and she lacked the courage to ask for a job outright. All she could do was sit quietly and hold out her hand—which itself required immense bravery.

"So it's like this every day."

Theodore made her efforts meaningless by throwing the bread aside. Laticia knew begging was shameful—she knew all too well, which was why she endured in silence.

"Lati, shouldn't we earn some money?"

"Yes. I want to."

But she genuinely didn't know how. She was too busy hiding her conspicuous appearance—her silver hair and purple eyes were rare and easily noticeable. She lived in constant fear that rumors would spread and the Duke would come for them. Theodore, unlike her, seemed unconcerned about that.

"Then sell something."

"Sell? What?"

The only thing of value she owned was the dress she wore. Theodore wasn't much better off—with Locardi captured midway, they had fled with almost nothing.

"But Theo, we couldn't bring anything with us."

"Think hard, Lati."

Theodore smiled faintly.

"Are you sure you have nothing to sell?"

"I really… don't know."

"Hmm……"

For some reason, he chuckled, stroking his chin. A bad feeling settled in her—a sense that something impure, something she dared not consider, was about to leave his lips. Sure enough.

"Your ¢unt."

"……"

"You're good at it. Spreading your legs and shaking your ass."

"I… I can't."

Fighting back tears, she refused. She couldn't believe Theodore was suggesting pr*stitution. As she continued to deny him, he adopted an oddly generous attitude.

"You can't? Well… I suppose it's not a body just anyone can have."

"Theo…"

"Then do the same for me."

"The same…? What…"

She had a suspicion but prayed she was wrong. Theodore was deeply wounded—when the body withers, so does the heart. Moreover, he had lost his eyes. For Theodore the painter, losing his eyes was losing everything. No matter how hard she tried, Laticia could never fill that void. She was prepared to grant him anything he desired—whatever it was. But…

"Everything you did with the Duke."

"……!"

She found herself stepping backward. Theodore moved his arm, tapping his crotch. Each time, the hand on his arm dangled limply.

"You sucked that bastard's co¢k just fine, didn't you? Come on, hurry up."

"Theo…"

Her back hit the wall. Cornered, Theodore grew even more merciless.

"You said you'd do anything. That you'd be my hands and feet. Then take down my pants and take out my co¢k."

"Don't do this, Theo."

Tears finally fell. The thought of caressing Theodore's mutilated flesh was unbearable.

"You said you liked me! Loved me! That you wanted to be with me until death!"

"I do like you, Theo. I love you. I want to be with you until death… It's true."

She meant it. But sexual love was separate. She knew what lovers in love did at night—that it was natural. But why…?

Why couldn't she do it with Theodore?

Beyond mere reluctance, she felt revulsion.

I'm broken.

Something must have shattered during her time as the Duke's plaything. Each time she moaned beneath him, each time her lower body was smeared with his seed, each time she begged for more like a bit¢h in heat—piece by piece.

"I'm sorry, Theo. I'm so sorry."

"Ha!"

Her apology only fueled his rage.

"Can't suck it? Why? Because it's not the precious Duke's co¢k?"

"No, that's not it. Theo, I—"

"Wh*re."

"……"

"Bit¢h."

"……"

"You fu¢king cum-dumpster pro$titute, what right do you have to act coy?"

Where had it all gone wrong? If she knew, could she fix it? As she floundered, Theodore made a sinister demand.

"If you don't want to do either, then give me your eyes."

It was an absurd, unreasonable request. But Laticia didn't want to blame him. She just wanted to escape this situation—even if she knew it wasn't a real solution.

"Theo, I'll… I'll go find more food. Better food. Please wait a little."

She fled his side as if escaping. Outside, dusk was falling. Standing on the dimly lit path, Laticia had no idea where to go. She remained motionless for a long time. In the end, her feet would inevitably carry her back to the hellish shack.

The transition from Theodore's verbal abuse to physical violence didn't take long. She endured the curses in silence and submitted to the blows without resistance.

Laticia deteriorated rapidly.

Emasculated, Theodore developed an abnormal appetite and increased violence. He constantly demanded food from her, and if his desires weren't met, he immediately raised his hand. Each time he grabbed her hair and shook her, her soul felt rattled, crashing inside her skull. It stung. It left her dazed.

In moments when her consciousness blurred, one person surfaced in her mind.

Andrea Kalidnas. Her master.

Why? Why did he come to mind? As she knelt begging for food for Theodore, she pondered but found no answer.

Did she want to go back? Perhaps.

She had long lost the will to live, worn down by the pain. Laticia only wished that if she fell asleep, she would never wake again.

Please…

But as surely as the sun rose each morning, her eyes always opened.

***

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