Garden Of Poison-Chapter 221: Night of Hailstorm

When they arrived back at the castle and disembarked from the carriage, Emily asked Raylen, "How did you know about it? About the man and me..." She was puzzled because she had never breathed a word about it to him before.

Raylen gazed at her for a moment before responding, "Your grandmother and I had a little chat when you were sick. I had my suspicions that needed clarification."

"And what did you learn?" Emily inquired, feeling her heartbeat quickening its pace.

"You possess a Barter Soul," Raylen explained to her. "In simple terms, a tradeable soul that can be used for other purposes, much like a joker in a deck of cards. It’s likely what he’s after."

"Why me?" Emily asked, as everyone else in her family was seemingly normal.

Raylen shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Your luck seems to have fallen short. It’s probably the trial and tribulation of the Blackthorn bloodline. The trial didn’t end with Dante and has been passed on to the other siblings? Which might explain the root-like markings," he tapped his chest with his finger.

"Great," Emily whispered under her breath.

As if one headache wasn’t enough, another concern arose. Voicing her uncertainty, she said, "There must have been plenty of opportunities to... abduct me again."

"He’s waiting for you," Raylen responded calmly, and Emily looked at him with a questioning expression. "He’s waiting for your soul to corrupt, like a fruit that needs to ripen before it can be plucked. Each soul progresses through different stages."

"Thank you for explaining it to me," Emily said while her anxiety began to kick in.

This meant she would need to be cautious, and her movements would be restricted. She wouldn’t be able to visit her relatives or Janelle as freely as she had originally thought.

"Don’t overthink it," Raylen stated, aware that her thoughts were spiralling out of control. "He can’t or won’t take on the appearance of the living. He can only assume the identity of the dead. To be certain, the easiest way is to check a person’s pulse."

"You don’t have one," Emily pointed out to him, and the corners of Raylen’s lips pulled up into a smile.

"I am sure you will be able to tell when it’s not me, Princess," Raylen responded confidently. "From now on, Westley will accompany you to ensure your safety. I need to make sure my cake is well protected."

Before she could excuse herself, he said, "I might have something to cheer you up."

"Are you going to give me cake?" Emily asked, seeing him break into a grin.

"Well, I suppose we can enjoy some cake as we watch," Raylen suggested thoughtfully.

Five minutes later, Emily found herself standing before two cells, and behind the iron bars were the two demonesses who had earlier shown up at the gathering.

"Fucking let me out of here, Raylen!" Celeste snapped at him through gritted teeth.

"You’ve come back after so many years. It is time I properly attend to my guests," Raylen said as he smiled at the woman, who appeared furious. "Did you truly believe that there wouldn’t be any demon traps? This is why they warn against working so much that your brain goes numb. What do you say?" He turned to look at Amara, who only made incoherent noises.

Emily noticed Amara was struggling to speak. Leaning closer to Raylen, she whispered, "What did you do to her?"

"Amara had trouble keeping secrets, so I helped her by stitching up her lips," Raylen replied nonchalantly before shifting his gaze back to Celeste. He continued, "I hired a new cook from Hell, so you don’t have to worry about the quality of your meals. As you can see, a bed and blanket are provided—"

"Don’t make Viktor come here in person," Celeste warned him. "He only wants to see you."

Raylen hummed and sighed, "Alright. I will send him my portrait so that he can look at it whenever he misses me. Problem solved."

The three women stared at him. Emily noticed the demoness Celeste looked like she wanted to strangle Raylen, a reaction he seemed to elicit from all those he annoyed.

"By the way, there was someone at the gathering who had the ability to take on the appearance of a dead person," Raylen casually drawled, then asked, "Anyone you know?"

Celeste’s gaze bore into Raylen and she replied, "Doesn’t ring a bell. Who was the dead person he assumed the appearance of?"

"Colton Parish," Raylen replied.

"You will be able to find the answer if you come to Hell," Celeste stated, making Raylen smile.

"Silly Celeste," Raylen murmured. "But I suppose someone will need to visit Hell. Anyways, I hope you have a comfortable stay, and if you need anything, Westley or Lauren will come by to assist you. I have soundproofed the room, so feel free to talk or scream. It’s also summon-proof."

Amara continued making incoherent noises, as if she wanted her lips to be released so she could move them freely. Raylen turned to look at her.

"What’s that? You enjoyed what I did to you at the gathering? Say no more," he said, and he raised his hand.

The lowly demoness frantically shook her head, but it was too late, and Celeste began, "Don’t do—"

Snap!

Amara exploded into another gruesome heap of bloody mass, with some of it splattering on Celeste, who appeared to be on the brink of losing her patience as she took a deep breath to calm herself.

Emily decided to leave, as she didn’t share the same recreational interests as the red-headed demon. And as she walked towards the exit, she felt Celeste’s gaze on her, even though the demoness didn’t say anything to her and only observed her from her cell.

After having blood splattered on her clothes twice, Emily decided to take a warm bath, which felt comforting in the midst of the early winter chill. She couldn’t help but feel nervous whenever she realised how close she had come to the man who coveted her corrupted soul. She remained in the bath until the water began to turn cold.

Later that night, after dinner, she returned to her room and sought refuge in her bed, cocooned in the blanket, with candles burning brightly in her room for comfort and light.

As Emily drifted off to sleep amid the raging storm that threatened to drown the entire kingdom with water, the candles eventually burned out, the last of their flames extinguishing with a sizzle and a wisp of smoke.

A sudden thunderclap struck with enough force to shake the castle’s windows, shattering some of the glass panes, including one in Emily’s room. Startled by the deafening sound, Emily abruptly jolted awake with her heart pounding. With the window broken, rainwater began to pour inside, making the sound from the outside even louder and more distinct.

The rattling against the glass grew louder, and Emily recognised the sound as hailstones. Wanting to see if the hailstorm had woken up the other occupants of the castle, she moved to the edge of the bed and placed her feet on the ground.

However, a piece of glass had slid beside the bed, and as Emily placed her feet down, it unexpectedly pierced her skin, prompting her to emit a high-pitched scream.

The door of her room burst open, and Lauren and Julia rushed in, each carrying a burning lantern. Her maid asked in concern,

"Princess Emily, are you alright?"

"Careful." Lauren raised her hand before the young maid to signal her to be cautious. "There are broken shards of glass everywhere." The head servant took the initiative to make her way to where the princess sat on the edge of the bed and immediately noticed her in pain.

"I stepped on a piece of glass..." Emily said, taking a deep breath while clutching the bed for support as she felt a surge of pain that seemed to momentarily separate her soul from her body. She had tried to remove it herself in the darkness, but each time she touched it, she felt the shard push deeper into the sole of her foot.

The clouds rumbled, and the hailstones continued their relentless assault on the ground and the castle. Soon, Raylen appeared in the room and noticed Lauren standing before Emily. Though the smell of mud and rain filled the room, he detected the unmistakable scent of blood.

"The princess has injured her foot, Master," Lauren informed, and she was about to bend down to help remove the glass when Raylen stopped her.

"Don’t touch it."

Raylen came to stand beside the bed, where Emily sat with her body tense. When her eyes shifted to look at him, he noticed her glistening eyes as she struggled to hold herself together. He remarked,

"You appear to be in pain. A damsel in distress."

Emily shot him a glare through the pain, and she whispered, "I will kill you."

"Such ambition," Raylen said, clicking his tongue as the scent of her blood became prominent. His eyes then shifted to the right, where Lauren stood, and he instructed, "Fix the window and get the room cleaned."

"Yes, Master," Lauren replied, and she proceeded to walk around the bed. She then turned to Julia and instructed, "Go and fetch the mop and the bucket." The maid nodded and hurried out of the room, while Lauren went to find another servant.

Emily watched as Raylen came closer. Leaning forward, he wrapped one arm around her back and hooked the other below her knees. Their eyes locked, his blue eyes meeting her hazel brown ones as he remarked, "Precious blood is being wasted, and limping on an injured foot isn’t advisable. Let us have you moved to the next room for the night, Princess," and with that, he carried her out.