Chapter 24 - Prince Red Riding Hood

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Chapter 24

 

 

Parting from his weeping grandmother—who had forgotten her role as queen in the face of grief—Lil joined the bishops in prayer at the castle chapel before being taken by black carriage to the outskirts of the barrier.

 

Until that moment, Lil hadn't even known that such a carriage existed—one used solely for delivering sacrifices. Nor had he known that those chosen would be blindfolded with black leather and shackled in iron.

 

The heavy manacles bound his wrists in front of him, but they were connected by short chains to iron restraints at his ankles. This forced his arms downward. Even bending his knees couldn't raise his hands high enough to remove the blindfold.

 

It was said that even strong young men—who had entered the lottery by choice for honor or reward, or who were determined to return alive—often lost their resolve near the barrier. Some thrashed in panic, leaping from the carriage, attacking soldiers.

 

Even those who had remained calm often fled into the forest, or returned through the barrier out of fear as they waited for the wolves to come in the darkness.

 

Each time that happened, the ritual itself was threatened.

 

And because the offering must be made on the night of the full moon—as per the ancient pact with the Wolf King—the sacrifice could never be allowed to escape. No matter what.

 

Lil wanted to say, "I'll be fine. I won't run. Please don't bind me like this."

But he couldn't.

 

Instead, he quietly accepted the same treatment as any other nameless offering.

 

He had steeled himself for this, yes—but to say he was unshakable would have been arrogance.

 

When the moment truly came, perhaps he would scream with a pitiful shriek for someone to save him. Perhaps he would try to crawl back within the barrier, into safety.

 

If that were to happen—if he put others at risk through his own weakness—it would be far better to be blindfolded and bound until the end.

 

"Your Highness, we're just outside the Strawberry Snow. The moon has not turned red yet."

 

"…I see."

 

"It's a cold night. Please, allow me to pull your hood up."

 

Led from the carriage, Lil—still blindfolded—felt a red hood drawn gently over his head.

 

Though he was a sacrifice, he was still a royal offering to the Wolf King. As such, he wore the forbidden color: a long ceremonial cloak, a blouse of silk, a fitted vest, short formal breeches, and black leather boots.

 

It was the bishop—who had spoken to him earlier—who now explained the procedure and placed the hood. Apparently, he was the only one permitted to speak.

 

The soldiers who had accompanied them moved quickly and silently the moment they dismounted. Lil could hear them unloading cargo from the rear of the carriage—heavy objects thudding onto the snow-covered earth.

 

I don't think we came far from the castle… Where are we? If this is the northern forest… would Klaus notice something? But even if a miracle like that happened… I can't ask for help. I mustn't.

 

Lil stood motionless, like a puppet, the soles of his boots pressing into the snow.

 

He had been told not to ask where he was being taken, and so he had no idea. Yet in his mind, he pictured the northern forest.

 

Strawberry Snow… the place he once crossed with a pounding heart just to see Klaus… reappeared vividly behind his closed eyes.

 

The snowfields that glittered like ice, the trees still clinging to the last of their leaves, the stairs to the watchtower, its creaky doors… and Klaus, always there to see him off.

 

Those memories now blurred with reality, breaking something inside him.

 

Klaus… are you still in the watchtower in the northern forest? Is that far from here?

 

Tears soaked into the inside of his blindfold. Then, suddenly, Lil felt soldiers grasp his shoulders and legs.

 

His body knew—something was about to happen. Fear surged, and he almost cried out to the bishop for an explanation.

 

He knew he would die in the end, but the unknown—the not knowing what would happen before that—terrified him.

 

To be blind, to be ignorant, to be utterly immobile… all of it combined into a fear too great for words.

 

"Your Highness, this is where we part ways. From the depths of my heart, I pray a miracle will save you."

 

"W-Wait! What… what is this?!"

 

Lil was scooped from behind the knees and lifted onto something—something cold and wooden. He shifted instinctively, trying to figure out what it was.

 

The surface beneath him was chilled through. Then came the sound of shuffling, a faint vibration beneath him… and he realized—he was being placed on a sled.

 

"No… wait—ah, ahh…!"

 

There had been no warning, no command—but he heard the synchronized breathing of the soldiers.

 

And then, in utter darkness—without a single ray of light—Lil was pushed forward, sled and all, beyond the sacred barrier.

 

He could tell they had chosen a snowy, sloped path. Not a steep descent, but just enough that the sled began to slide smoothly over the snow.

 

He must have already passed beyond the Strawberry Snow.

 

Below him, the sharp, grinding hiss of sled runners against crusted snow grew louder and louder.

 

"Ah—nngh…! Aaaahh!"

 

Most of the snow had hardened into ice. The scraping sound was unbearable.

 

He could even feel the layer of ice just beneath the snow. When the sled hit a bump, he heard the splintering crack of ice shattering beneath him. At larger mounds, the entire sled would bounce into the air.

 

"Ah—ugh…!"

 

Though the sled had already traveled a fair distance from where the carriage had stopped, it didn't slow down.

 

Lil's body was tossed, rolled, and jolted atop the sled again and again.

 

He bit the inside of his cheek, and as pain bloomed, he clamped down harder.

 

To cast the sacrifice out like this, as if tossing away a bundle of trash… If this is how it's always been done, it's too cruel! Someone could die from this alone, before even facing the wolves!

 

He could understand why the bishop and soldiers didn't want to step even one foot beyond the barrier on a full moon night, when the magic of the Wolf King was at its most potent. But this… this method only replaced one danger with another.

 

It was inhuman—unforgivably reckless.

 

If he wasn't careful, he could bite through his own tongue.

 

If the sled crashed into a rock, his entire body could be broken, and he would die writhing in agony.

 

No… this isn't right… this should never have been allowed!

 

Lil had once believed that switching to a volunteer-based system for choosing sacrifices would solve everything. But now, at the brink of death, he realized—there were other things that needed to change, too. And it filled his chest with regret.

 

If he died here, who would be left to tell his grandmother the truth?

 

Unless a surviving sacrifice found the courage to speak out, nothing would change.

 

The cruel traditions would continue, and even those who might have been saved would be lost.

 

This unthinkable truth, unfolding in places my grandmother cannot see… I must be the one to carry it back. Commoners chosen as sacrifices would never be in a position to protest. It has to be me. I must be the one to speak. There are still things that must be changed—I can't let it end like this!

 

Sliding down the snowy slope, Lil summoned every ounce of strength into his shackled limbs.

 

He waited, determined, for the next jolt. When it came, he would throw himself off the sled.

 

When the next impact struck with a dull thud, he shifted his weight in that very direction.

 

"Ghh—ahh…!"

 

Perhaps because of his small frame, his body soared through the air just as he had hoped.

 

When he landed, it was in deep, untouched snow.

 

He tumbled over and over, but the snow cushioned the fall, saving him from injury.

 

Ironically, the chains that had bound his hands and feet together now worked in his favor—his limbs didn't flail wildly, and his body kept a straight form. He didn't break anything.

 

"Ugh… ah…"

 

The sled, now lighter, continued to slide noisily down the slope.

 

Lil could no longer see—or hear—where it ended up.

 

Even now, the tightly bound black leather blindfold wouldn't come off. Darkness stretched around him, endless and absolute.

 

It doesn't feel like I'm injured. But I can't move. The shackles on my ankles are cutting into my boots, and while my wrists have a bit of slack, it's not enough to wriggle free. If only the chain were broken… I might be able to take off the blindfold…

 

Buried in the snow, Lil twisted his body and pressed his shoulder toward his temple.

 

He tried again and again to scrape the blindfold loose, but no matter how he angled himself, it wouldn't budge.

 

He managed to raise his upper body, but as soon as he lowered his head, the hood of his cloak slipped forward.

 

It covered nearly all of his head, making it even harder to reach the blindfold.

 

My body's freezing. And not just from fear or despair. It's actually, truly cold. I'm dressed for summer, with no gloves, lying buried in snow like this… I might get frostbite. My fingers… they could freeze… snap off like tiny icicles…

 

Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of losing them, and he pulled his hands toward his chest.

 

The chain went taut with a cruel sound, and the iron cuffs creaked and groaned, as if mocking his futile struggles.

 

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