Chapter 23 Part 1 – Alisa born…what? Now that’s an ominous subtitle. Maybe this is big trouble?!

[Storyteller – Alisa]

I am Alisa.

Alisa Diamante Noel Fontine

…heh heh, yeah, well, now it’s Fontine.

The Fontine family.

The family of a weak noble on the border of the frontier with only loyalty to the crown to offer.

The idiots in the royal family pushed us away because I was such a troublesome person.

I’m relieved that everything’s settled down now.

And the fact that the Fontine family never knew that the eight oldest families of the “Red-Bloods” would betray them.

What idiots.

A bunch of sparrows relieved because the baby hawk is far from her mama’s nest.

You have the chance to kill me now, after all.

Just strangle me while you can.

They sent me to the Fontine’s, where I was under the patronage of the four families, so no one could interfere with me getting older.

After that…yes…

If I was allowed to grow to age 5 on my own, then no one would be able to kill me.

I wonder why the royals let me go?

Filial feelings? Pity? Heh heh, what fools.

Don’t think I’m anything like my stupid, iron-masked father.

And in exchange, I’ll peck away at that oh-so-very-important princess of yours.

Until I can grow and move around freely, you can enjoy that family affair for a little.

Because the funeral of the princess will be the death knell of the royal house.

Just hearing the blood-curdling cries of the king and queen sends a thrill up my spine.

“God! Kill me instead! I can’t endure this misfortune!”

…they probably said something like that.

I’m not dissatisfied. I’m VERY satisfied.

For you, it’s the first time, but it’s number 109 for me!

Just close your eyes and let it happen.

It’s harder than failing at something.

You’re all chess pawns, unable to avoid the control of my hands.

Yes…I like seeing people suffer.

It’s fun to hear people sobbing in misery.

It’s…interesting.

When I’m safe and watching other people go through trouble, my mouth flutters. The superiority of it all…and the fact that I’m safe…it’s joyful. Everyone knows the feeling, right? It’s like karma.

No matter how people try to cover it up, you can still see their pain.

And I’m not ashamed by it. Human misery tastes as sweet as honey.

Humans, like bees, flock to that nectar with delight.

The ancient crowds in the coliseum never denied their desire to see misery. It was a flame that fueled the kingdom.

It was I, after all, that created the greatest spectacle of warriors offing one another.

They weren’t crazy, after all. They were quite sane. There were several wise men in the bunch. These pensive men of philosophy with excellent understanding of the human mind – and other nobles and celebrities that saw these fighters die…it took their breath away. Life is an expensive commodity, after all.

Because we all understand the true value of a life, the ephemeral nature of it is like a glorious spark that is soon snuffed out.

And so, allow me to teach you the correct way to watch this theater.

No need for those disaffected masks…just be human.

When the weak are crushed and cry out in pain, laugh! Have a good time!

Enjoy looking down at the suffering of others!

Their pain and woes are not meaningless!

They’ve provided me with entertainment, after all!

When a life is about to be extinguished, you see the true nature of people.

It’s that instant they take on their greatest role, and shine!

Comedy, tragedy, satire, all people invigorate my soul with their vitality.

So I fully enjoy seeing the misery of others.

I don’t waste any of their suffering and pain…not a drop!

Hah hah hah hah! EVERYONE! So sad to see what they go through!

For example, I was glad at the death of that middling villainesse Ambrosine…it was quite pitiful.

She had no idea the little, short role that she was about to play.

Just a little worm that played the jester for a moment.

Hard to see a scene like the one after the Crimson Duke got revenge for his beloved, yet poisoned wife.

I got to see it 108 times, and I STILL enjoy it.

It’s like a favorite comedy bit for me.

What? You want to hear about it?

So…

…the Duke locked the tramp in one of Shylock’s villas.

The tendons on her ankles were slit…so no escape. And with hot mercury poured down her throat…no way to scream.

She was supposed to have been the Duke’s mistress, but now somehow became his prisoner!

Think that’s a boring revenge? Hee hee.

It doesn’t end there…in fact, that’s the beginning of the fun!

The duke replaced all the villa’s servants, with members of families that Ambrosine had “interfered” with.

He brought in poisons and cutlery for them to use at their own discretion.

The poison that killed his beloved wife as well.

And, he was nice enough to inform Ambrosine about this as well.

All her “servants” were allowed to voice their complaints…almost like some kind of customer service meeting from hell…about what she had done to them. They all heard one-anothers’ stories, and their rage and sadness amplified, and thus, now united, all burned in a mad fever for vengeance. How exciting! When this was over, after Ambrosine had been slapped around a bit, she was totally in fear of what the others would do to her.

They removed all the keys to her bedroom and private bath….she was open to be killed at any time.

No way to call for help…all other humans burning with a raging grudge…anyone could be your killer.

Or maybe they were just poisoning her water little by little?

She had no rest, even when her body collapsed into sleep.

Her food was mixed with tiny needles! The water had an “off” color!

Her face was already pale like the dead and oh! How! She! Shuddered!

She probably ceased believing she was alive.

And the duke encouraged them to whisper to her as they worked…every hour…into her ear.

“How cruelly you have robbed me of my beloved, bitch…”

You can guess these grudges were never extinguished…but only grew! Every day and night! Even as she attempted to sleep, they would whisper into her window.

She would ask for forgiveness…but her voice would not emerge!

She would even try to cover her ears or put a pillow over them…but they would simply pull them away and again, whisper!

After a year, she tried to bite her tongue off and die, but sadly, she failed.

She was a weak woman.

If she was like that lovely Scarlet, she could have made it for 10 years.

Scarlet sent down orders to kill knowing that she might be killed as a result.

Different from my methods, but still…simpler…and still a lovely raging murderer herself.

Heh heh, but I was talking about that worm…Ambrosine.

Her tongue was cut off, for “humanitarian reasons.”

She couldn’t speak anyway…so it really doesn’t matter.

On a frozen night, her nightwear was removed, coal stacked to the ceiling, but the fire wasn’t lit.

The servants locked a feast in the room adjacent, so she could smell every single ingredient.

And she could clearly see the feast through the window as well.

She wanted to die so badly that they had stopped with the occasional poisons.

And though she owned the villa, she was treated worse than a slave.

Crawling on the floor like a worm with her ankles cut…BUT! She lived for five years! She was finally forgiven! Such a blessing! Perhaps it was God himself that did it!

That day, some things were brought into the villa with covers on them.

The duke appeared at the villa in his formal wear…a long time he had done so.

He stooped to the floor and watched the crawling Ambrosine slither with her dead eyes, and laughed happily.

「Come now, my dear! Let’s go to the ball, together!」

She tried to run, as she knew what was to occur next, but he grabbed her by her hair as she silently attempted to scream and dragged her down the hall.

「Welcome!」「Good day!」「Enjoy the dance!」

The greetings and applause of the servants echoed as he dragged her down the hall.

When the curtains were removed, there were countless mirrors, showing the piteously disgusting face and body…the remnants of Ambrosine.

Five years of constant blame and regret had aged her 30 years in only five.

HAH HAH HAH! I wonder what her face looked like then!

Probably something like all the despair and sorrow that a woman’s face could take!

But even that wasn’t enough of a punishment.