I Am Troubled That My Fiance Is a Villain

The guard briefly explained the structure of the tower as he ascended the stone staircase, which was worn and smoothed because of the massive treads being made every day.

"This tower runs up to the fourth floor, and the upper floors house relatively less dangerous, well-behaved prisoners. As I said earlier, this layer of prisoners can also bring in some furniture or hire a chef to have a good meal as long as you pay for it. Instead, it's much colder up there than down there, so accidentally, you could freeze to death."

And, frozen to death...

Instead of the name Mourning Island, this is it if you think it's not that bad of an environment.

"There is no prison on the middle floor where I was more than just now, but the living space of the staff, the kitchen, the infirmary. And then there's the interview room."

Um, but the second floor I was on was the middle floor? That means the ground floor is the lower level, but would you normally divide it that way?

"Upper level, middle level, that means lower level too?

The guard replied with pleasure to Bern's inquiry, which he said raised the same question as I did.

"Yes. So this prison has an underground. And half the prisoners are underground."

Heh.

Is it even underground? That's pure awesome.

Oh, but the east side of the island was a little cliff, so maybe the altitude of this island itself is higher than I think.

The dungeons in the basement are jittery after all, I wonder if it's dark.

It's jittery, dark, cold...

I feel the cold, damp air stroking my cheeks, looking back.

Of course there are only inorganic stone corridors. Did you do it even if the air came out of some gap?

"Even in the basement, at the bottom, there's a dark cell, locking up particularly dangerous prisoners"

The bottom line is that the basement is at least upstairs.

Could this prison be the main building down there, not up there?

"Nobody's in there right now, but no, well, it's a terrible place. If I were you, I wouldn't be able to stand it for a month."

My consciousness was flying to that dark cell, somewhat hammering at the guard who kept talking to the prisoner in a sympathetic manner.

I don't know... I'm very concerned about the basement.

The imagination grows wider and wider, as if you had actually seen a prison in its basement.

Must be jittery, dark, cold. The bed is still going to break, unsanitary, more importantly.

"I can't believe I spent time chained up..."

"You know very well!

The guard looked at the words I spilled in surprise.

"All prisoners are chained to the piles and shackles in their respective rooms to prevent escape. Well, that's a natural consideration."

"Ha, ha"

Me, how could I have thought I could be chained up? It's as if I knew...

But just now I can't work my head at all because of the recoil I used my head to say I was quite concerned about talking to Viola. Even if I try to think hard, I forget to go from the edge of my mind. It's like collecting water desperately.

Or I haven't slept well lately, and I haven't worked so hard? No one will tell me, so I'll tell you myself ~. Ha, I'm tired. The stairs are dull.

As we go up the long stairs, we now turn this way down the narrow hallway that we entered. This is going to get lost without a guide for a bit. That's what prison should be called.

I feel like the whole building is echoed by the ear barrier sounds of katsun, katsun and three footsteps, and jalajara of the key bundle the guard has.

Does our footsteps sound so loud that we hear them more clearly in the prisoner's ears? And will it put thoughts through the presence of visitors?

When I started thinking about it that way, I felt strangely restless. How imaginative or hypersensitive are you from earlier? Hmmm...

Instead, I try to lean over to Bern, but I still don't lose my finesse.

Bern knows how subtle this one is, or he slowed down his gait to make it easier for me to stick around and walk. What a carefree man he is. Don't you think it's going to be hard on your mind?

"Come on, we're here. There are prisoners in the back more than the three in front, so don't let them go."

The guard chose one key from a bundle of keys on his hips without straying, and opened the door of the cell in front of him the best.

The door was a thick tree, with corners protected by iron, with small iron plaid windows that could be opened and closed at the feet.

The guards urge me to go in for fear.

As I was listening to him talk, the cell was spacious and lined with three longitudinal windows as long as the ceiling from the waist height wide enough for a person's arm to finally enter. In the light plugged in, the stone walls, stacked precisely and without gaps, shine white on the cheeks.

I took a peek out the window to try, but I can only see the thinly cut, dark colored sea and the gray sky. It seems to have put in the painting, as if it is unrealistic.

Will Viola also be back in her cell by now and looking out this elongated?

They say that the desks and beds are so crude that they use them if they don't have the furniture to bring them in.

It's even prettier than Yasuku, but it's incredibly cold because of the stone construction and the high ground surrounded by the sea. Rather than being cold, it's enough to illuminate that even the air that really enters your lungs is frozen.

If I really bad at this, I freeze to death.

But the first thing I felt when I went into jail was uncomfortable.

This place is not what I know.

I don't even know such vague grounds for discomfort.

Plus when I look at Bern stroking the wall of the cell with his fingertips and blurring, I go out of my way. I'm somewhat anxious and scared to have him here.

I wonder why. If you've never been in jail before, you've even seen it...

... No, it's not.

I know.

The dark fog that had been disturbing my thoughts for so long seemed to clear up all the way.

Didn't you spend days and days in jail in that nightmare hoax, to the point that you didn't like it?

How could I have ever forgotten?

I was dreaming earlier!

Yes, it was a prison there.

Although this place is certainly not like that prison, it does look familiar in the size and way the stones on the walls are assembled. No, I don't know anything professional, so I'm not sure when they ask me if I'm really with you, but I still don't feel like I'm with you.

Speaking of which, it was darker, jitterier, and softer than damp over there. But I still think the cold was better.

Could it be

"Oh, that!

Speaking to the guard waiting at the entrance, he hurries to fix the position that was breaking down against the wall.

"Can I help you?

"There's a dark cell here, isn't there?

"Yes. Underground."

"Can I see it there?

The guard looked like he didn't know why he said that.

"There's nothing I can't do... Honestly, not in a place where a lady would go."

"You can do it."

"Yeah, well"

"What do you do with that look, Lizzie?

Ugh. Stuck in words.

"Uh... here! If you look up, don't you want to look down?

"Not really. I don't think it's any more fun than here."

Looking around, Bern says as troubled.

But I wasn't going to back down here.

"Then I'll go see for myself. Because you just need to take a peek. Can't you?

Bern's persuasion gives up early and decides to ask the guards to try.

They looked at each other like they were in trouble, but I was too broken to go see the dark cell.

It was a small room made of stone.

Qualitative beds and desks.

Hitting the basement (d) floor, in this cell on the lowest level, it is so dark and cold that there is a window of brightness far higher than the overhead.

The air with the unpleasant smell of even somewhere contains a slight excess of water and is heavy to snap.

It sounds like a groaning, similarly groaning wind that occasionally sounds like it sounds from the bottom of the ground, and it's terribly creepy.

I know.

I know this place.

I could see my knees trembling and my cold sweat blowing out.

Yeah, just around here. When I first saw him, he was sitting on this cold stone.

When you rely on your memory to look in the corner, there is a pile there properly to connect and stop the chains of the shackles. The unpleasant sound of chains and stones came back to the back of my brain.

Then a few days later, he tried to escape, failed, and lay around here.

And he had a cold, and he refused to be treated, and he was suffering in this bed called Xyxy.

I knew.

I've always known.

Bernhardt plotted to assassinate Edwin, that when he failed, he would expose everything and be locked up in an isolated island prison for the rest of his life.

How could I have forgotten!

Flirting and walking into the cell with his hands on the wall.

The stone on the wall where my fingertips were touching was damp and slightly slippery.

It is hard to breathe, as if the precipitated air, which was also full of underground tunnels, had solidified in your lungs.

I'm overwhelmed by the various sensations I couldn't feel when I didn't have an entity, and when I get distracted, I'm about to lose my strength from my knees.

Even though my stomach was going to flip to so much horror, I was going to miss it and cry.

With that said, I don't hear that intermittent water that was going on. Has someone blocked it, or has it not leaked water from anywhere?

Oh, I can't hear him breathing.

There's no Bernhardt here.

He's not here. He's not here.

He said, that Bernhardt...

That's when people suddenly showed up behind my back and something touched my shoulder.

"... Huh!

My body leaned about to the clap that jumped up and looked back.

Bern, with his hand on my shoulder, hastily grabs both shoulders and pulls me back so that I don't flip over.

"Lizzie!"

"Oh, thank you"

My breath was lifting, like after exercising intensely. Ha, repeat the shallower breath and manage to take in the oxygen you need.

"Things have been weird since just now. You look pale."

"It's"

"Let's get out of here. This place has bad air."

I almost dragged him to think he'd grabbed my hand, and I went out into the basement.

Keep ignoring the guards, too. Slowly Bern moves on. He totally remembered those complicated underground directions in one go, apparently, due to the fact that they were going without hesitation.

I want to go back over there, I don't want to go again, I feel terribly relieved that there is no Bernhardt here, I feel disappointed...

It was the first room I saw when I noticed it, and it was sitting in the chair in front of the fireplace.

You said it was on fire in the fireplace, but it's cold and cold with a little sweat.

It makes me feel like you're back from a nightmare to reality as you stare at Bern rubbing my ice-cold hands.

Come back. Anything, you're supposed to be in real life all the time.

There's a proper Bern next to me, and he says he's even rubbing my hand. It seemed to have left my consciousness half in that prison.

The guard, who came back with a warm cup of tea, said in such a manner that he had seen it.

"It must have been a little irritating for your lady. My husband is having a hard time."

"No, because I rarely say I really want to see it..."

I was diligently gathering my scattered consciousness as I watched as the orange flame licked firewood in the fireplace and stretched up.

I thank you for the tea I was given and swallow it for a bite. The scent of tea leaves falls out of my nose, twitching and warming around my stomach. I just felt a little easier.

Yeah, let's calm down.

Calm down, let's think slowly.

Because there is no doubt that Bernhardt was no longer on the island of mourning. The question is whether he is, in my opinion, Bernhardt. I still don't know the details of the Bernhardt route.

But, well, maybe, perhaps, my thoughts fit. Even if it was a hit, I'm not happy.

"What do we do?

"What?

Oh, no, I wasn't listening to you at all. I mean, I didn't even realize they were talking to me.

"Do you think we can get back to port town by boat? A little more rest?"

"Oh, yeah... Right."

Bern laughed bitterly at answers he couldn't give the guidelines.

What shall I do?

Do you want to do some more research here? No, I don't even feel like I have anything more to gain here.

Or I even felt like I wanted to leave earlier, but I don't want to go to that dark cell again when I'm completely calmed down.

"Or if you're going on a boat anyway, there's a hand in going to the monastery like this... I hear you're not feeling well over there."

I see.

"Is it as good as a monastery and a harbour town? As for the bowman who put me on it..."

"No. I guess the monastery is farther away. The bow depends on the money."

When I first got here, I was asleep rather than seasick, and it's mental to say I'm not feeling well.

"It's okay. Let's go to the convent.... I don't want to be here anymore"

It feels like a long day.

But it's still coming.

I breathed heavily and bit my teeth off.

In the end, we could not reach the monastery within that day.

By the time I got to the port of a city with a monastery, the sun was already falling, because Bern seemed to feel he had to give me a break anyway.

Around being knocked right into the proper inn with no further questions asked about the harbor, it seemed like he intended to do so from the start.

Oh, my God, I thought you were going to the convent. I felt so wasted.

Nevertheless, I am a weak person, so when I was forced in the middle, I would follow it, and today I lost my strength from my body when I thought I had to rest, and I threw my hands and feet on the chair to relax. It's not a bed, by the way, because it was horrible in case I fell asleep.

"Get some rest."

"I can't. Because it's melting right now"

"It's melting..."

He groans in a weirdly convincing manner, and Bern wears a wave bump and hits a more frivolous coat than usual.

Ah, I need to get dressed, too.

I don't want to get dressed, eat dinner, sleep... I don't like sleeping. Absolutely not!

Ah, but I need to get dressed anyway...

No. I feel like I'm melting my thoughts.

"Look, get dressed"

"Hmm."

It won't be that hard not to sleep one night. I have as much to think about, and there's no way I'm gonna be up all night if it's about one night.

It just wouldn't be too nice to do something about wanting to sleep and not working my head off when I see Lyla tomorrow.

But I...

I'm low again and, um, roar as I guzzle on the chair.

What the hell was Bern looking at me like this creature?