Chapter 2

Heavy footsteps echoed from behind the interrogation room door. It was far too short a time for the two soldiers to have finished their meal.

Sally stopped talking and quickly went to the bed. Just as she was peeling back one corner of the blood-stained blanket, the door burst open.

"...Sally Bristol, what are you doing here?"

A soft, feather-like voice pierced her spine sharply. Why now, and why Captain Winston of all people?

Sally clutched the partially removed blanket to her chest and slowly turned around. A young private stood rigidly, holding the wide-open door.

Between them, a man in a gray trench coat walked in without hesitation. Under the flapping coat, a black officer's uniform was adorned with neatly arranged medals of various colors.

Every time a new medal was added to that spot, Sally felt nauseous. It seemed as if the medals emitted a stench of blood.

"Hello, Captain. I was giving the guest lunch and collecting laundry."

She put on an innocent face, as if she knew nothing, and added a hint of surprise, as if wondering why he was asking about something she did every day.

"Alone."

"Yes. Aunt Edel quit a month ago..."

"Hmm."

Winston curled his lips softly and let out a low laugh. But his ice-cold eyes did not smile at all.

She felt the urge to moisten her dry lips but resisted. Showing her tension might make him notice.

'He couldn't have noticed already, could he? I have many excuses if he asks what we talked about...'

She frantically devised various strategies in her mind while outwardly feigning surprise, blinking her eyes and tilting her head.

Winston stood between the man at the table and Sally. His tall stature and broad build created a sense of overwhelming pressure.

He glanced down at the man, who was already trembling, with a cold eye and removed his angular cap. His fingers, as cold as his gaze, neatly combed his sharp, blond hair.

"I know that, Sally. You know exactly what I mean."

With a tone as if consoling a lover, he lightly pressed Sally, then suddenly turned around. The riding crop in his black leather-gloved hand pointed to the lieutenant, who was almost his adjutant.

"Campbell, bring the men who were guarding the door."

A chillingly low voice. At that moment, Sally heard the whip slicing through the air and tearing flesh in her mind.

She stood against one wall, clutching the bedsheet, like a guilty person.

While waiting for the soldiers, Winston slowly looked around the interrogation room as if he had never seen it before. When he playfully held the chain hanging next to Sally and placed it in front of her neck, she shivered.

I hope they bring them quickly. But I hope they don't.

"Captain, I've brought them."

Sally sighed inwardly, unsure if it was relief or frustration.

The two soldiers, who had been dragged away while eating, had greasy lips. The corporal stood at attention, his hand trembling slightly on his forehead.

"Captain, you called me."

"Yes, why do you think I called you? Take a guess."

His tone was light, as if addressing a friend, but no one took the situation lightly.

The corporal anxiously scanned the room. The answer to what he had done wrong must be in this room.

His gaze fell on the maid standing against the wall, a step away from the captain. He found his answer.

'She was supposed to come in and leave quickly, so why is she still here?'

He inwardly cursed.

"Captain, you said not to bring the maid in alone."

"Correct."

Winston's eyes drooped slightly, but the tension in the room only intensified.

Swish. Swish.

The whip in his right hand sharply cut through the cold air and lightly struck his left palm. Each time, the two soldiers flinched as if they had been hit.

"You have ears to hear my orders, but no brain to understand them?"

"No, sir."

"Then why did I say not to bring my Sally Bristol in alone?"

Sally's stomach churned. 'My Sally Bristol.' It wasn't just the overly polite yet rude title that bothered her.

Winston came close to her and put his arm around her shoulder. From the point where his hand touched her, her back tingled.

What would another maid do in this situation? Sally quickly thought and bit her lower lip, placing a cold hand on one cheek.

'I hope this act of shyness works.'

She ignored the wavering eyes of Private Fred Smith.

"That rat-like girl..."

The corporal glanced at the man standing stiffly at the table on the opposite side of the room and then met the captain's eyes respectfully.

"You said she might be in heat and attack Sally."

Sally in heat? The man looked like he couldn't even lift a spoon, let alone anything else.

Moreover, Sally was a plain-looking woman who didn't arouse any lewd curiosity in men.

So, while it didn't make sense to him, he had to accept it since his superior said so.

"Sally, did you hear that?"

Winston finally released his hand from Sally's shoulder. Just as she was about to relax, he lifted her chin.

"This place is dangerous for a delicate lady."

"Yes, I will be careful."

She immediately gave the answer he wanted, but he didn't let go of her chin. He tilted his head as if to kiss her, just looking down at her.

'You are more dangerous to me.'

This time, she couldn't help but moisten her dry lips. As her tongue touched her lower lip, Winston slightly furrowed his brow and released her chin.

"Did you hear that, too?"

He approached the soldiers who had violated the rules.

"This place. Is. Dangerous. For. Sally."

With each pause, the sharp, triangular end of the flexible riding crop jabbed the soldiers' chests. His voice grew increasingly fierce, like a lion's roar.

Cold sweat trickled down Sally's spine. Fred was her best friend, like a brother since childhood. She was worried he might receive a harsh punishment.

Sally bowed her head deeply. Her shoulders trembled like a frightened rabbit, and tears fell from her large eyes.

"Sniff, I'm sorry. It's my fault for coming in without permission. So, the punishment, sniff, should be mine, Captain."

She hiccupped and gently grabbed and shook the hem of his trench coat.

"A man becomes a fool when a woman cries."

Her mother used to say that. But she also said not to overuse it, as it wouldn't work.

Is he just another man? Winston stopped jabbing Fred's chest with the whip and approached Sally.

"Sally, you must never do this again. Understand?"

"Sniff, yes..."

As she tried to wipe away her fake tears with her sleeve, he stopped her. Winston's hand lifted her chin, and a neatly folded handkerchief gently pressed and wiped away each tear mark.

Everyone's eyes widened at this uncharacteristic act of kindness. When he looked at the handkerchief, now wet with the maid's tears, and put it in his jacket pocket, everyone's eyes nearly popped out.

He usually threw used handkerchiefs on the floor immediately. Yet, he kept the one stained with the lowly maid's bodily fluid.

"From now on, leave the food outside."

"Yes, I will do that."

Just as she was lowering her guard, lulled by his gentle, consoling tone, Winston's hand, which had been holding her chin, stopped in mid-air and lifted her left thumb. His soft gaze instantly turned sharp.

Sally's blood ran cold as she followed his gaze. A small piece of eggshell was stuck under her thumbnail.

Winston smirked at the pile of eggshells neatly arranged in front of the spy. His eyes did not smile.

His neatly trimmed nails dug under Sally's thumbnail, twisting cruelly as if to tear the flesh.

Sally suppressed a groan from the pain of her tender flesh being crushed. The training to endure torture had become so ingrained that she restrained herself even when there was no need to.

Winston silently looked at the white piece stuck to the tip of his nail and flicked it away. A cold remark flew to Sally's head along with the shell.

"Sally, you're too good for your own good."