Chapter 15
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 15
“Then what about Peter?”
“…”
“Is that bastard still at the bottom of the sea? Did this key just float to the surface on its own?”
Oscar, who had been lost in thought with his head leaned back against his chair, finally spoke.
“Report 2021.”
Report 2021.
The report, from approximately three years ago, stated that Peter was presumed to have been buried at sea along with the key. It had been written by the late Marquis's top intelligence agent, a man said to be unparalleled in the field of espionage.
“Still no word from Theresia Wittgenstein?”
“No, Your Excellency. We only received a message that she would investigate a little further.”
“Summon her.”
The key, supposedly lost at sea, had returned. This wasn't a matter that could be settled with a simple written apology. Now that the key had resurfaced, she should have returned at once.
A cruel smile, one that would make even Simon shudder, flickered across Oscar’s lips before vanishing.
It was a night when a long-held grudge, thought to be buried at sea, had resurfaced with such a pretty face.
* * *
Yongcheon was home to the largest port in Danguk.
Merchant ships came and went from the clear, blue Yongcheon Sea every day. Most were from neighboring countries that had established diplomatic ties with Danguk, but occasionally, ships that had crossed the great sea would arrive. The merchants who crossed the great sea were unusually tall, with high-bridged noses and fair skin. Though they came from different nations, the people of Yongcheon simply called them Westerners.
In the prosperous city of Yongcheon, enriched by vigorous trade, there was a landowning family that had commanded the people's respect for generations. A family that opened its storehouses to save the people when famine struck, and sent out its own ships to bring back the bodies of men lost at sea.
There was no one in Yongcheon who had not been helped by the Han family, and thus, there was no one who did not love them.
The people of Yongcheon always kept their eyes on Hoyeonjae, the main house of the Han family.
“Seo-ah.”
The gentle, resonant voice was like the warm summer sun, holding not a trace of cold.
Out of habit, Seo-ah looked at the shadow on the ground. She watched a stately shadow lean in close to her own small one, and the warm voice seemed to stroke the top of her head.
“My child, lift your head. Why do you keep looking at the ground?”
Even after hearing his words, she hesitated for a long moment. When she finally, slowly, raised her head, her father… no, her grandfather was there, his long beard white. His dark eyes, holding the steady light of a tree that had weathered countless storms, met hers gently.
“That’s right. Lift your head just like that.”
The hem of his robe fluttered in the wind, covering the back of her hand.
“It’s about the Youngest Miss. They say she looks more different as she gets older.”
“Shh!”
“No matter how you look at it, she looks like a Westerner. Her face is so pale, and her eyebrows, hair, and even her eyes are brown.”
“Be quiet.”
“Do you think… the Madam had an affair with a Westerner…”
“You’ll get us in trouble! I told you to be quiet!”
“Oh, come on! I’m not the only one who thinks so, am I? Everyone who’s seen the Youngest Miss whispers the same thing. That’s why they never let her set foot outside the inner quarters, isn't it? They even brought in a Western tutor for her!”
Though she was young, she understood what those words meant without needing an explanation. But she couldn’t bring herself to repeat the words she had accidentally overheard.
As her vision blurred and tears finally fell, he slowly raised a hand to wipe them away. He wiped her tears in silence for a long time, again and again, and then, just as he always did, he called her name gently.
“My child.”
“…Yes.”
Then, as if he could see right through her, he spoke the words she could never hear enough.
“You are my daughter.”
My youngest daughter, whom I love more than anyone in the world.
“…Yes.”
Though she knew it wasn’t true, she lived her life clinging to those words.
If not for that incident, she would have lived that way forever.
The inner quarters of Hoyeonjae, with its large main hall and two rooms, would have been her entire world. She would have befriended the master her grandfather hired out of pity, finding her joy in their lessons and the occasional night market outing they took together…
She would have lived as Han Hong-heon’s youngest daughter.
But that life of lies was shattered without warning.
Seo-ah.
Seo-ah. Wake up.
Her heart pounded, feeling as if it were sinking at the sound of that gentle, low voice.
For some inexplicable reason, Seo-ah realized this was a dream. At the same time, she knew this scene was from that night.
The sound of weeping came from afar, and the thick smell of blood hung in the air. The paper windows glowed red from the soaring flames outside.
Footsteps drew closer. A sudden fear made her shrink back, but the door was flung open.
The Senior Madam of Hoyeonjae stood there, her white hair undone.
The pitiful woman, who had lost her only daughter to a tragic fate, stood with an expression Seo-ah had never seen before. Behind her, the burning roof tiles of the estate blazed against the night.
Silhouetted against the inferno, she looked as if she had walked straight out of hell. Or perhaps, she was a god who had come to punish a sinner.
“Get up.”
“…”
“Get up and see what that bastard you call a father has done.”
Her voice was quiet, but it rang louder than thunder.
“That man drove my daughter to her death, and now he has dug up the grave of your grandfather—the very man who took you in because he couldn't bear to cast you out…”
Indelible rage laced her voice as she bit out each word through clenched teeth.
“He took the remains. It was undoubtedly the work of your father.”
It felt as if the fire consuming the roof tiles had spread to her heart. Black ash and soot seeped from her melting core, clogging her lungs and choking her.
Grandfather’s grave, his remains.
Seo-ah trembled, then pushed herself up from the floor. Even knowing it was a dream, her mind went blank. She couldn't bring herself to lift her head. As she huddled over and stepped past the threshold, a cold voice followed her.
“Seeing you’re not surprised, you already knew.”
“…”
“If you knew that I am not your mother, and that the man you’ve been calling Father was actually your grandfather… then do you also know what that bastard of a father did to my daughter?”
It was just the beginning of summer, but the wind that coiled around her felt like it was slicing her skin.
I’m sorry. I…
Not knowing what she was saying, she ran blindly, without even putting on her shoes. A breathless scream followed her from behind.
“Go to your father and bring back your grandfather!”
She ran, pushing through the billowing flames and the soot that was blacker than the night sky. The screams and cries of the people clung to her ankles like a swamp, and their sharp glares felt like they were cutting into her back again and again. In the wake of the black conflagration, only sorrowful wails and boiling rage remained.
The world she had so precariously built shattered like a sugar cookie. As the sky fell and the ground beneath her crumbled, there was only one person she could lean on.
“Master!”
But her father hadn't just taken her grandfather.
Her Master was the only one who had managed to mount a proper defense against the silent raid. Though she couldn't protect the grandfather's grave, she had contained the damage by throwing her entire being into the fight.
The terrible dream continued, shifting from one scene to the next.
“Master…”
She blinked, and suddenly, Seo-ah was standing at her master’s final moments. She wept, her head bowed before her master—who was now missing an arm—and took out the key she had kept carefully hidden.
“Even if you forbid me, I'm going. I have to. You know that.”
The Master, who had been lying with her eyes closed as if dead, immediately opened them and spoke.
“Don’t.”
Then, with a clarity that was unbelievable for someone on the verge of death, she held firm and explained why Seo-ah could not go.
Even as she spoke, blood seeped from where her arm had been severed. Seo-ah dragged over a white cloth as large as a blanket and pressed it against the wound, wrapping it tightly. She thought that if she did, her master might not die, might not leave her like her grandfather had.
“Stop it and listen to me.”
Red blood soaked through the tied cloth. It was painful just to look at, but the one bleeding seemed completely unfazed.
“How can I stop when you’re bleeding like this?”
“Stop it. And listen to me carefully.”
She placed a hand on Seo-ah’s cheek. It was as cold as ice. Her one remaining hand felt like that of a corpse.
Finally, the tears burst forth. They poured out of her just as they had on the day her grandfather died.
“How can I stay here?”
How can I stay here without Grandfather, without you?
At that, the woman who had been telling her to stop and listen fell silent. Then, with her beautiful, deep green eyes, she took Seo-ah in, again and again. Her expression was as unreadable as ever, but Seo-ah could feel her despair.
After a long moment of despair, she shed tears Seo-ah had never seen before and finally spoke.
“…The key. There are two who seek that key. One is that bastard, and the other is the only blade that can kill him.”
“Who is it? Where do I have to go? I’ll take the key to that person myself…”
“No!”
Even on the brink of death, she shouted, urging Seo-ah to listen carefully and insisting that she must not change the order of things. Only then did she reveal the only way to retrieve her grandfather’s remains, the only way to find the man who was her father.
“Go straight to the Royal Pelfe Bank. No matter what, you must receive the Certificate of Key Acquisition Rights.”
“After that, both he and the blade that will kill him will come to find you…”
Her words, which had been so clear, suddenly began to slur.
“Master!”
Startled, Seo-ah called out to her, and her master’s momentarily hazy eyes focused again.
“Remember this well. The one you must follow is Rei…”
Then, just as quickly, her gaze went vacant once more.