Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

The moon had risen much higher in the heavens than when we had originally set foot on this estate.

I saw it now in the middle of a square window; it shone brightly into the room. Still condemned to immobility, I hazily imagined a Japanese flag with the aid of my useless brain.

An old, iron door creaked. I saw the toes of a woman approaching me. She was barefoot; that's why I hadn't noticed her at first.

"Captain Crusoe?"

Her voice was sweetly flirtatious. Her toenails, meticulously cared for, shone with the color of cherry blossoms. Flynn's beauty was utterly flawless.

"I want to apologize," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed I was laid out on.

Her hip length platinum blond hair only curled at the tips. It mixed with the shine of the moonlight and glistened like a silver stream bed.

"Forgive me that I must keep you locked up here. But you yourself are at fault in this situation. It's very impolite not to drink with the host at a meal. Your lips did not even touch the rim of your glass. And then that insolent man came!"

When Flynn spoke of Maxine, a curious hatred lay in her voice.

"I could get really angry over that guy! If he wasn't the henchman of the king, I would never have let him through the gates of my estate. He actually dared to assault my beloved servants -- with those dirty hands, stained with so much blood!"

She wasted no words on the fact that she herself hadn't made any attempt to rescue the maid. Had she perhaps already forgotten that?

"Don't misunderstand me, I've got nothing against you. It was just necessary to bring you under my power. I absolutely need a person in whose veins the blood of the Wincotts flows. I want you to do something for me. You are going to manipulate the stubborn and extremely tenacious 'key' to the box."

Manipulate a key? Me? And why the hell was I still supposed to be a member of the Wincott family? Flynn would surely not have believed this nonsense if I'd been introduced to her without sunglasses.

I imagined her face when she realized her mistake. Her pretty face would be contorted with blackest anger. This thought brightened my gloomy mood a little.

"Here, drink this," she said.

Even just speaking cost me a lot of effort. Without moving my head, I threw Flynn a suspicious glare. She shook her head with a friendly smile.

"Don't worry, I haven't poisoned it. We need the Wincotts in order to deploy this particular substance which your ancestors first produced. Ive never entertained even the remotest thoughts of killing you. You are an important component of a powerful weapon. Only you can make this key into your marionette."

She pressed the elegantly adorned glass to my lips at an angle and attempted to drizzle the alcoholic drink into my throat. When Flynn figured out that it wouldn't work with me lying down, she took a sip of the red wine into her own mouth and bent over my face with her eyes closed.

I felt her soft lips.

"Sleep now. You need a lot of rest."

The cold fingers that had rested on my cheek let go, taking the heat from my skin with them. They seemed to regret the end of this contact a little.

The woman turned her back to the moonlight and left the room quietly. I heard the metallic noise of the lock and how she spoke with the guards. Then the master of the house disappeared for good.

I rolled myself frantically around in the bed. I was finally able to roll onto the floor. I crawled to the window on my elbows and knees and watched my shadow looming on the floor.

The moon was pale, white and bright.

I didn't want to lie in the darkness any more.

When offered food, I shouldn't just take it casually. I had forgotten that security measure until now. I'd never had to worry about it, because there'd always been someone there watching out for me. But now there was nobody who could test the food for me.

I forced myself to stick my pointer finger down my throat, and vomited the complete contents of my stomach out again. Due to the painful cramps, the exertion, and my anger, tears ran down my nose.

Did I do right, Gunter? Am I okay now?

Just keeping my eyes open was already the purest torture. It was as if, in this moment, the very last quantum particle of willpower had been pressed out of me. Then I went to sleep. It felt as if I was dragged into a pitch black swamp.

When morning breaks and the sun goes up outside the window, I want to wake up under my own power.

In my dreams, Gunter and Conrad were doing well. Only I stood alone in a faraway place. A song was coming from the box in my hand. But when I held my breath and pricked my ears, it was only the cry of the wind.