The Serpent of Paradise - Chapter 2

As Anastasia hesitated beneath the bench, unsure what to do, the door to Ivan’s room opened from inside the church. Ivan came out into the chapel and, upon seeing the guest, shouted, “Count Lauderdale! How did you come all the way here…!”

A count? At the word Ivan blurted out, Anastasia’s eyes widened in shock. Though she was ignorant, she knew that in this world there were commoners like herself, above them were nobles, and above them were the imperial family. And a count was certainly a title given to a noble.

‘They say you might not see one even once in your life.’

Even the lord of this region was said to be very low among the nobility. But a count… that was surely someone very high-ranking. Why would such a person come here? Was he acquainted with her father? But that man had called her mother’s name.

As Anastasia stood there in confusion, trying to understand what was happening, the count shouted, “Seize him!”

At the count’s command, Ivan immediately tried to flee. But the count’s subordinates were much faster. They dragged the struggling Ivan in front of the count and forced him to kneel on the ground. Anastasia found it hard to believe what she was seeing.

Even the village head, who was considered the most important person in the village, bowed his head and knelt before her father inside the church. According to her father, he was the one who conveyed human prayers to God and delivered God’s will to the earth. So within this church, Ivan was no different from God. Seeing that god being forced to kneel on the ground was more shocking to Anastasia than anything else.

At that moment, Ivan, who had been forced to the ground, met Anastasia’s gaze. His lips moved.

Stay quiet.

Anastasia stared at him blankly.

Anastasia was afraid of her father. Before her mother passed away, and after she was gone as well.

He always imposed painful rules on Anastasia and beat her daily, saying she did not follow God’s will, his will. But she could endure that. Because she was a bad child. So her father must have had no choice but to raise his hand against her. But….

‘…Mom.’

Anastasia recalled the grave she had been looking at just moments ago.

She could endure everything else. But… even if her father beat her more, she wanted to go see her mother’s grave.

The only person who had ever kissed her since she was born. Sometimes, as if she found her unpleasant, her mother would push away Anastasia’s small body, but there were far more days when she gently held her hand.

But her beautiful, fragile mother could not endure the cold of this frozen land, and her mind collapsed, and then her heart collapsed as well. Then she passed away. For the year before she died, she had lain down, muttering words no one could understand or reciting only prayers.

Anastasia believed that the foreign language her mother muttered whenever their eyes met was the language of paradise, and she memorized it secretly without her father knowing. Because surely, the words she whispered every time she looked at her contained love.

When her mother fell asleep, Anastasia would lie beside her and try to sleep as well. The body heat she felt through the rough blankets was the only warmth Anastasia had. So she only wanted to go find even that trace, but her father had not allowed it even once in five years.

‘But….’

Anastasia looked at the count’s shoes pacing roughly around Ivan. This person stands above Father. Then perhaps… could the count take me to Mother?

Meanwhile, Count Lauderdale asked again in a rough voice, “Ivan, where is Chloe?”

“Do you think I would tell you that?” Ivan replied with a sneer, letting out a mocking laugh.

At that, one of the count’s subordinates grabbed Ivan by the collar and threw a punch. Thud! With the dull sound, blood splattered onto the church floor. As the subordinate was about to throw another punch, Anastasia jumped out from beneath the bench and stepped in front of Ivan.

“Please don’t hit him! I’ll! I’ll tell you where Mother is!”

“Mother?”

The count looked at Anastasia, who had suddenly appeared from beneath the bench. Anastasia looked back at him. She could now see the count’s face, which she hadn’t been able to see from under the bench. Brown hair streaked with white, and brown eyes. Though they were colors that held the warmth of wood, his gaze was colder than the wind outside.

That gaze swept over Anastasia from head to toe. The moment that gaze sharpened further,

“Ha… ha….”

The count began to laugh.

“Hahahaha!”

The slow laughter grew louder and echoed throughout the church. The count, who had been laughing like a madman, suddenly stopped and stepped toward Anastasia, grabbing her shoulders with both hands.

“Chloe’s daughter. You’re definitely Chloe’s daughter. Otherwise, you couldn’t resemble her this much!”

At the strong grip, Anastasia let out a groan without realizing it. But the count did not let go. Still holding onto Anastasia, he asked, “What’s your name?”

At the count’s question, Anastasia answered in a trembling voice, “Anastasia… Ivanovna Domanova….”

“Ivanovna Domanova?”

At Anastasia’s answer, the count frowned.

Is there something wrong with my name? She had been told that her name meant Anastasia, daughter of Ivan of the Domanov family.

The count turned his body and looked at Ivan, who was being pressed down by his subordinates and glaring at him. For a moment, the two men’s gazes collided in the air. The victor was the count. Her father let out a groan and closed his eyes, and the count gave a sneer.

“So a lowly fisherman who barely received a name thanks to a pastor has been using the royal family’s surname here. Playing the role of God’s agent in the countryside must have made you blind to everything else. And Ivan’s daughter… Ivan’s daughter….”

After thinking for a moment, the count asked another question.

“Anastasia, how old are you this year?”

“T-Twelve….”

Unlike before, a smile appeared on the count’s face at that answer. In contrast, Ivan’s face, pressed to the ground, twisted miserably.

“Twelve. Twelve….”

The count muttered repeatedly as if it were a very important fact.

“It’s been thirteen years since I met your mother.”

As Anastasia stood there, not understanding what that meant, Ivan suddenly twisted his body violently and shouted.

“She’s my daughter! Chloe gave birth to my daughter!”

“But your daughter doesn’t resemble you at all.”

“She doesn’t resemble you either!”

At Ivan’s words, the count frowned slightly, then lifted Anastasia’s face and muttered, “How interesting. Whose seed did she bear?”

He traced over Anastasia’s red hair and green eyes, revealing a faint longing. From that gaze, Anastasia realized that the count was yearning for her mother through her.

“A child who resembles no one. Only Chloe….”

It seemed that the count both liked and disliked that fact. Anastasia couldn’t understand. Children resemble their parents. So it was only natural that she resembled her mother, so why….

Unable to understand the situation at all, Anastasia clenched her worn clothes in anxiety. She only wanted to go to her mother. So she had simply told the truth to a fine gentleman, just as her father had always taught her not to lie. But then why were only these incomprehensible words being exchanged, and why wouldn’t he take her to her mother?

“M-My mother….”

“Ah, right. We should see Chloe.”

The count tried to lift Anastasia, but seeing the dirt and straw clinging to her clothes, he drew his arms back.

“Now then, where is your mother?”

“Over there.”

Anastasia pointed with her finger toward the hill visible beyond the window.

“My mother is there.”

***

Anastasia looked down at the ground beneath her feet. Spring was still far away, so the hill was covered in white snow. The patches of exposed ground were nothing but rocks mixed with ice. Her mother’s gravestone stood among them.

Anastasia watched the count’s back as he approached the gravestone ahead of her. She wanted to hurry over, embrace the stone, and call out to her mother, but the count’s subordinate held her shoulder firmly and did not let go.

In the desolate wind of the frozen land, she heard the count mutter.

“I finally found you… and yet you run away again like this, Chloe.”

Standing behind him, Anastasia couldn’t see what kind of expression the count was making. But perhaps it was the same expression he had shown the moment she pointed at the gravestone.

The count stood in front of the gravestone for a long while before turning around. Contrary to Anastasia’s expectations, there wasn’t a trace of emotion on his face. He glanced at Anastasia once, then gave an order to the subordinate holding her.

“Once we leave, take her back to the church. Don’t let her wander.”

With only those words, the count headed toward the church on the hill. Anastasia watched his retreating figure, then slipped out of the man’s grasp and approached her mother’s gravestone. In truth, it was hardly worthy of being called a gravestone, just a small, crudely shaped rock. Scratched with an iron nail, faint marks that Anastasia couldn’t read were carved into its surface.

Anastasia hugged the stone and pressed her face against it. The rough surface of the rock, frozen by the wind, mercilessly scraped against the child’s fragile cheek.

“Mom….”

There was no way a stone standing in the winter wind could be warm, but Anastasia desperately searched for the warmth she remembered. As she clung to the gravestone, she saw in the distance the count and Ivan emerging from the church.

Ivan staggered as he walked before collapsing heavily to the ground. The count’s subordinates standing beside him grabbed his arms and hauled him back up. The count, Ivan, and the count’s men walked over the hill toward the river. Once they disappeared from view, the subordinate who remained with Anastasia grabbed her arm, dragged her back to the church, asked where her room was, and shoved her inside.

Click.

She heard the door lock from the outside.

Recalling the cold sensation of the gravestone still lingering in her hands, Anastasia climbed onto the bed, wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, and closed her eyes.

‘I’m going to be punished.’

Her father and the count had gone to talk. No guest stayed forever. Once the count left, the church would become her father’s domain again. He would become god once more.

‘I’m scared.’

Anastasia curled her body up. She had disobeyed her father’s orders. She had met strangers and even spoken with them. She had even gone outside the church.

Already, she could hear the sound of the rod cutting through the air. How many times would she be struck this time? She couldn’t even begin to imagine the marks that would be carved into her already ruined calves. Trembling in fear, Anastasia prayed in her heart.

Please let Father talk with the count for a very long time. Let him return to the church very late. Very late… very, very late….

It was the most sincere prayer she had ever made. A desperate plea so raw that anyone who heard it would have no choice but to grant it.

The next day, Anastasia received the news that her father had died.