Chapter 36: The Thousand and First Night

Fran and Quidar returned to the manor almost simultaneously.

Standing by the door, Quidar exchanged a glance with Fran, who had arrived just after him. Fran, however, seemed to be deliberately evading his gaze, a fact Quidar found subtly perplexing.

‘This guy…’

The middle-aged man silently observed Fran, but Fran paid him no mind. He walked straight upstairs, not exchanging a single word with Quidar.

****

‘Phew…’

‘I was scared to death.’

Fran returned to his room, lay on the bed, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

‘That Quidar… he’s truly a dangerous character.’

Fran fell into thought. He couldn’t quite grasp why, despite their complete silence, he had sensed such profound animosity emanating from Quidar.

‘Perhaps in his eyes, I’m Yuli’s person?’

A chill snaked down his spine. It appeared Lyon wasn’t the sole dangerous individual lurking within the manor.

‘Phew…’

‘Coming here was truly like a lamb entering a tiger’s den.’

‘Perhaps I’ll be discovered tomorrow, or perhaps I’ll be killed before I even accomplish anything.’

‘Perhaps by the next day, blood would stain the floor, and every trace of his existence in this world would vanish, yet…’

Fran clutched his head, lost in thought.

‘I won’t regret it.’

‘What if… what if I could live to see the day of victory?’

Clinging to that sliver of hope and a desperate chance, he quickly rose to his feet. He began a meticulous search of his room, scrutinizing every inch.

He was looking for any listening devices or other equipment the Teutons might have installed, anything that could potentially expose him.

Having scrutinized every corner, Fran collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted. He closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to relax once more.

‘But… if I want to sleep, I still need to be prepared.’

He rose to his feet, intending to lock his room door. Cautiously, he approached, and just as his hand reached for the lock, the doorknob suddenly twisted from the outside.

Fran quickly recoiled, his gaze fixed warily on the doorway. There, a girl in a white silk nightgown stood revealed.

Her long silver hair, shimmering against the pure white silk, radiated an ethereal charm under the soft glow of the lights.

Fran found himself utterly captivated. The girl remained by the door, her hand still on the doorknob, her head demurely lowered in a display of shy embarrassment.

After a prolonged silence, it was Yuli who finally broke the awkward impasse between them.

She leaned against the doorframe, a hint of embarrassment coloring her expression as she touched her nose. Then, she addressed Fran.

“Um, Fran, may I come in?”

“Yuli… I, I’m going to sleep now…”

Fran averted his gaze, unable to meet the girl’s captivating eyes. How could he possibly explain it…

He felt a peculiar fear, a reluctance to meet Yuli’s gaze. He couldn’t articulate why, but his panicked mind could only conjure up clumsy, outlandish excuses.

He wanted to close the door, yet he didn’t wish to trap Yuli’s hand or forcibly push her away. So, he simply stood rooted to the spot.

Before he could react, Yuli took a direct step across the threshold.

“I know…” Her voice carried a faint, almost playful whine, yet…

‘If you know, then don’t come in…’

Fran watched helplessly as she entered his room, then, with a light backward kick, she closed the door.

The atmosphere abruptly grew exceptionally strange. Yuli settled onto the edge of the young man’s bed and lifted the covers. Fran initially assumed she intended to lie down, but then…

Yuli patted the bedsheet beneath the covers, then, with a somewhat innocent expression, she spoke to Fran.

“Lie down and rest. You must be tired after a busy day out, right? I… I just want to chat with you for a bit. I’ll leave soon.”

“Oh…”

Fran nodded stiffly, then got into bed and lay under the covers.

‘Why am I doing this?’

‘Hmm…’

Fran couldn’t say. Perhaps his overwhelming exhaustion had simply compelled him to comply with Yuli’s suggestion without conscious thought. It was, after all, an invitation to rest.

‘Perhaps…’

‘Was there another expectation in my heart?’

‘Who cares.’

Fran settled into the warmth of the covers, pulling them up to his chin. He then turned onto his side, effectively removing Yuli from his immediate line of sight.

He closed his eyes, having no desire to hear anything further from Yuli. She, in turn, remained remarkably quiet, almost as if…

‘…she was just there to watch him fall asleep.’

‘How strange…’

Fran found himself utterly bewildered by her intentions, particularly as he couldn’t discern her expression or movements from his current position.

‘But…’

‘Oh no, she wouldn’t install equipment in my room while I’m sleeping, would she?’

This unsettling possibility suddenly resurfaced in Fran’s mind. He still couldn’t fully trust Yuli. He quickly turned his head, and there she was…

Yuli was smiling serenely, gazing at the back of his head. As he turned and their eyes finally met, she offered a soft blink.

‘Oh no, Fran caught me staring at him.’

Yuli instantly felt a flush of shyness, yet she refused to break eye contact. Even as a deep crimson spread across her cheeks and profound embarrassment coursed through her, she held Fran’s gaze.

‘This child, how can he be so cute…’

She smiled and happily asked Fran: “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

“No… it’s not…” Fran, though he should have denied it, found himself subconsciously blaming the girl. “It’s because you keep staring at me, Yuli, that I can’t sleep…”

“Hehe, well then, how about I give Fran a kiss? I hear a goodnight kiss improves sleep quality, you know?”

No sooner had the girl spoken than she lunged, intending a surprise attack on Fran. The young man’s eyes widened in a flicker of panic, and then her lips were already pressed against his.

Her soft, pink tongue flickered, teasing and tasting, attempting to pry open the young man’s defenses.

‘No… don’t…’

Amidst his frantic struggles, the young man suddenly found a surge of strength and abruptly pushed the girl away.

“Stop… please… I’m really scared…”

‘Ah…’

Yuli gazed at the bewildered, panicking young man, a fleeting wave of frustration washing over her.

‘Damn it…’

‘How could I not hold back again!’

‘Argh!’

Yuli, in a fit of pique, slapped her own thigh. She turned her head, eager to apologize to Fran, but then…

Fran had already hidden himself under the covers.

Still trembling.

Nonetheless, the girl’s eyes softened, clouding with a mixture of sorrow and regret.

After a long moment, she sighed, then rose from the bed. She pulled a stool over, settling beside Fran’s bed.

Picking up a book, she flipped to a specific page.

“I’m sorry, Fran, it was my fault…”

She sighed softly, then continued: “Go to sleep. I… I’ll tell you a bedtime story, okay? I won’t do anything else.”

The young man beneath the covers offered no reply, yet his trembling had ceased. He remained turned away from Yuli, lying on his side in silence, his breathing now steady and even.

The girl exhaled slowly, a profound sense of relief washing over her. Then, she began to recount a story, her voice soft and measured.

“Once upon a time, there lived a king, a man both cruel and licentious, who reigned with unchecked tyranny. Each day, he would take a new bride to spend the night in his palace, only to ruthlessly execute her at the first crow of the morning rooster.”

“This horrifying ritual continued for three long years, claiming the lives of over a thousand women. Until, one day, the vizier’s daughter, resolute in her determination to rescue countless others, chose to marry the king herself.”

“Once the maiden entered the palace, she began to tell the king a story each night. She would recount only the beginning and the middle, never revealing the conclusion. The king, desperate to hear the end of her tales, postponed her execution day after day.”

“And so, on the one thousand and first night, the king finally…”

Yuli abruptly paused. She could hear it—the soft, even rhythm of the young man’s breathing. Fran had finally drifted off to sleep.

She exhaled slowly, a profound sense of relief washing over her. Closing her eyes, she whispered an apology into the silent room.

“I’m sorry, Fran. I was too eager. I’ve scared you these past two days…”

“Goodnight.”

She gently kissed Fran, then left the room, turned off the light, and closed the door.

****

In the profound darkness, a pair of eyes quietly fluttered open. The small figure shifted, turning over. The young man gazed intently at the closed door, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

‘That foolish woman, honestly…’

‘What did the king do to the vizier’s daughter in the end?’

‘Ugh—’