Tail’s Curse Chapter 17

 

Sasha muttered with a flushed face.  

 

“I think my monthly cycle has started.”  

 

“Ah.”  

 

As Cordelia hesitated, Sasha forced a smile and whispered.  

 

“It’s not usually this time… I tend to have severe pain.”  

 

“Wait here. I’ll bring some thick cloth and a warm towel.”  

 

After tucking the blanket tightly around Sasha, who murmured her thanks, Cordelia stepped outside, softening her footsteps.

 

It was late at night, and most were already asleep. 

 

Unfamiliar with the layout of the first-class cabins, she wandered for a while before finally finding a kitchen maid who told her where to get thick fabric. 

 

By the time she returned with an armful of it, quite some time had passed. Now, aside from the sea breeze and the sound of waves, everything was eerily silent, as if even the mice had died. Cordelia shuddered involuntarily and rubbed her shoulders.  

 

The night sea was like the pupil of a silent goddess.  

 

Mysterious, tranquil, deep, and dark.  

 

For the first time, Cordelia realized that the sea was beautiful in any form.  

 

Though she had lived on a peninsula all her life, the sea felt strangely familiar, even if she wasn’t accustomed to it. 

 

Was it because she had always heard and imagined it in her mother’s stories and songs? It felt like a hometown she had never touched, stirring an odd sense of longing.  

 

“Child. Come here.”  

 

She stopped abruptly.  

 

“Come here. Come to us.”  

 

The auditory hallucinations had begun again. Rubbing her ears hard, she quickened her pace. 

 

Since the first episode, the pain had mostly subsided, but occasionally, she still experienced hallucinations, mild pain, and… like now, a sudden nosebleed. 

 

Wiping it away skillfully, she broke into a jog. She had to accept that this affliction was now a part of her.  

 

“Cordelia.”  

 

Her shoulders jerked up in surprise. She had often heard voices, but this was the first time she had seen a vision.  

 

A pale face was watching her from beneath the sea.  

 

The figure, meeting her gaze, grinned so wide its lips seemed to split. 

 

Shhh—creak.  

 

Distracted, she nearly tripped over something. 

 

Panting, she looked down—a liquor bottle was rolling on the floor. What in the…  

 

“Hehe, it’s that girl, isn’t it?”  

 

Before she could grasp the situation, her wrist was seized violently, and she was yanked forward. 

 

It was the pirate who had taunted Cordelia earlier. 

 

Reeking of alcohol, he was clearly heavily drunk. She instinctively grimaced. Because of her father and aunt, who used to drink and cause havoc, Cordelia could never stand this smell.  

 

“What are you doing out so late? Huh? Looking for a man? Want me to play with you?”  

 

“Let—let go of me!”

 

She wanted to claw at the face of the man who was licking his lips while holding her as she struggled. She thrashed wildly, but she couldn’t overcome his brute strength. 

 

Furthermore, she screamed for help, but no one answered in the late dawn. There was no one. 

 

Or perhaps, even if someone was there, they chose not to respond…  

 

“Look at this white skin. Ha, damn, you’re really tempting. I regretted not having you back then—thought about sneaking in and dragging you out. But I had to stick close to that expensive bitch. F*ck, when you think about it, even that woman was just a bastard pretending to be nobility…”  

 

“Let go! Get away from me!”  

 

Her front buttons tore off. Cordelia, seething with rage, slapped the pirate’s cheek with all her might. Her palm burned as if it might split, but at that moment, she felt a thrilling heat. 

 

It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced this sensation.  

 

It was the same lingering fever she’d felt when she had beaten her wicked cousins, Morris and Dorea.  

 

The exhilaration of violence and cruelty.  

 

The anger and aggression toward those who oppressed and tormented her—the desire to tear them apart. 

 

To pay them back for everything… Cordelia moved instinctively.  

 

Her vision blurred and dizzy, she staggered from the alcohol but lunged at the pirate, who was slurring curses, and jabbed her fingers into his eyes.

 

Aaaagh! 

 

As his scream erupted, a cheer roared inside her. Not enough, not enough. Her trembling hand grabbed a liquor bottle rolling on the floor and raised it.  

 

Under the pale moonlight, her split lips curled upward.  

 

I’ll kill you.  

 

Just as something writhing inside her threatened to burst out, Cordelia saw a hallucination. Her mother. Her dead mother was silently watching her, about to kill a man.  

 

“Cordelia.”  

 

Ah.  

 

“My child.”  

 

What… am I doing?  

 

The moment she hesitated, her ankle was kicked, and Cordelia dropped the bottle with a groan. 

 

The man, his anger boiling over, immediately struck her. Her small face snapped to the side, and her vision swam.  

 

“You—you crazy bitch!”  

 

For an instant, she thought of her father.

 

Ah, as expected. Drunk men are terrifying. I hate it. It’s dreadful.  

 

Alcohol is a strange thing. Why does everyone become even more disgusting and stronger when they drink it? They’re already the worst even without it. Why the hell?  

 

Through blurred vision, she smiled at the black hand reaching toward her. The nosebleed that had stopped began to flow again. 

 

And she thought, Damn it, in my next life, I’m being born as a man. 

 

“Aaaah!”  

 

Huh? Did I just scream?  

 

As she wiped her nosebleed and muttered stupidly to herself, a man’s fingers flew through the air right before her eyes. 

 

The severed pieces, like chunks of sausage, looked so surreal that she gaped in shock. The pirate, clutching his hand and writhing in agony, was suddenly overshadowed by someone standing behind him.  

 

Two gleaming eyes, set against the stark white full moon, sent a shiver down her spine.  

 

Perhaps it was some kind of premonition.  

 

Maybe this was the moment her life would flip upside down.  

 

He tilted his head slightly, looking down at Cordelia. The hem of his coat fluttered in the fierce ocean wind. With a heavy thud, his navy boots stepped forward—first kicking the crawling man’s head, then crushing his throat. 

 

Then, in one fluid motion, he drew a long blade from his waist and stabbed straight into the man’s gut. 

 

Schlick—

 

The raw sound of tearing flesh echoed. The gurgling moans abruptly stopped, replaced by the metallic stench of blood.  

 

It all happened in an instant. And throughout that brief yet endless moment, the man never took his eyes off Cordelia.  

 

The clouds obscuring the moon parted, revealing his expression. He was smiling. Perhaps, just maybe—quite gentlemanly.  

 

He asked politely, “Did I interrupt?”  

 

Even Cordelia, who had seen all sorts of things in her life, had no idea how to answer that. So she sniffled, wiping her still-dripping nosebleed, and asked back,  

 

“What?”  

 

“This isn’t the best place to bury a body.”  

 

The man murmured softly, shaking the blood off his sword. The motion sent a fresh wave of blood scent into the air, snapping her back to reality. 

 

A man had died. Right in front of her. He had killed him.  

 

As the daze faded and her body began to tremble, the man’s elegant figure stepped in front of the corpse, blocking her view. 

 

Their eyes met involuntarily, and she saw his neat eyebrows rise slightly. His cold, refined face filled her vision, and her tongue froze.

 

His tone and demeanor were friendly, yet something about him made her feel she shouldn’t ignore his words. 

 

Belatedly, she muttered a response.  

 

“Is that so?”  

 

“Right? You have unusual tastes.”  

 

In more ways than one. His red eyes flickered sideways, glancing at the corpse sprawled at their feet.  

 

This time, she knew for sure he was mocking her. The man stared at her pitifully disfigured white face with keen interest. Her heart raced as if it might burst. 

 

Was this the aftermath of the misfortune that had nearly befallen her? Or was it from witnessing a murder? Or perhaps…  

 

“Hm? Not answering?”  

 

Was it because of that gaze?  

 

Trembling violently yet suddenly overcome with defiance, Cordelia spoke up.  

 

“What do you want to know?”  

 

“Well, I’ve never seen a noble lady so fired up with anger that she’d lunge at someone.”  

 

Especially in a situation like this—most would just helplessly wait for someone to save them.  

 

Muttering softly, the man slowly sheathed his sword. His gaze brushed over Cordelia’s quivering shoulders, as if he knew it wasn’t from the cold but from fear of him. 

 

Yet, seeing him take off his coat and drape it over her shoulders made her doubt that assumption.  

 

‘What a strange man.’

  

Clutching the coat tightly, she muttered to herself.  

 

“Miss Marguerite has no manners.”  

 

“Excuse me?”  

 

“Not even a word of thanks to the person who saved you?”  

 

Stunned by the sudden reprimand, she gulped, gathered her skirt, and bowed.  

 

“Thank you. I owe you my life.”  

 

“I doubt it’s just your life you owe.”  

 

His soft tone, laced with quiet laughter, carried a politely veiled sarcasm. 

 

With every word he spoke, every time those red eyes swirled with an eerie light over her swollen face, an uneasy palpitation gnawed at her heart like icy fingers tracing her spine. 

 

It was an indescribable sense of shame.  

 

Then, suddenly, she realized the strangest thing.  

Her guard fully up, she asked, “How do you know my family name?”