Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Fake Princess
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Callista was a princess, but only in name—an adopted daughter taken in out of the king's benevolence. Because of that, the nobles scorned her, saying she wasn't a real princess.
Thalassa's queen pitied her own daughter like that and protected her, while Thalassa's king cherished and cared for his adopted "youngest" daughter for the sake of his beloved wife.
The king doted on Callista quite a bit. Unlike his other daughters, who strutted around with their noses in the air acting superior, Callista was sweet and endearing, so it was only natural.
The stronger the king's protection, the more arrogant Callista became.
It was inevitable. With the king as her backer, everyone else took an attitude of avoidance toward her selfish, willful personality—whether out of fear of the "shit" or disgust at the "filth."
Everyone around Callista was like dogs rolling over to show their bellies, eager to curry favor with the king and queen. As a result, she believed she was always absolutely right.
Callista was also one of those people who thought the world owed her compensation.
Why? Because she was pitiful. She'd lost her father young, received the king's love but still suffered disdain as a pitiable soul.
On top of that, hadn't she come here all alone, bloodied but unbowed, to marry an old emperor?
She'd trusted her "father" when he said he'd found her the most precious match.
Seeing the age gap between her mother and father, she'd consented to marrying someone somewhat older herself.
Callista had been excited by Asherad's striking beauty, the son in question. But that father of his was so decrepit that whenever they stood together, his looks seemed even more pathetic.
And he didn't seem to like her much either. Oh, how pitiful I am, unable to fit in anywhere. In the end, even becoming the king's adopted daughter was just so I could be sold off.
Callista viewed her situation pessimistically like that.
The only one Callista could set her heart on was Asherad. Unlike the emperor, he was fresh and handsome, with impeccable manners.
Father was wrong. He misjudged. Actually, isn't Asherad the best match? He's young and will be the next emperor.
No, setting aside conditions, it was natural for a young woman like Callista to desire Asherad.
But that lowly maid. How dare she—the daughter of a criminal—get close to Asherad and the emperor? It didn't matter to her that her older sister had been humiliated by that concubine, or that the emperor had taken a liking to the daughter she'd borne, shaking her own position.
Daphne irked her even more because she was so similar to Callista herself.
The daughter of the emperor's favorite woman.
Callista couldn't stand Daphne and didn't know what to do about it. Why on earth had the emperor kept that woman who'd cuckolded him close by instead of executing her immediately?
She asked Olga, the maid serving the crown prince, all about it in detail.
"Why on earth is His Highness keeping that woman nearby?"
"Well... Your Highness doesn't know that girl is his daughter."
"What?"
Something was wrong here.
At twenty-three, Callista had lived some years, yet she still couldn't distinguish when to step forward and when to stay back.
She didn't know that people had their own reasons for their actions, or that sometimes—even if those reasons were morally wrong or trivially petty—one had to let it slide without interfering.
In her eyes, what was wrong needed to be corrected.
Daphne was wrong, and she needed correction.
Asherad seemed to be extending kindness to that foolish girl out of ignorance. No matter how kind he was, he needed to know the truth!
"What are you doing! That woman is filthy! Punish her with a whip at once and cut out her tongue and throat!"
"...Aunt."
Even faced with this shocking truth, Asherad blinked slowly. Was he shocked? Poor thing. Frustrated, Callista shouted.
"How pitiful—you've been so thoroughly deceived! Your Highness, you mustn't do that. Things like that filthy wretch...!"
At that moment, Daphne bolted away. No one tried to stop her. As Asherad took a step forward, Callista blocked his path.
"Let your aunt handle this. I'll catch that thing and..."
"You've done something pointless."
Asherad spoke softly. But a chill like grinding ice laced his words, making Callista flinch for a moment.
He said no more. Asherad gave her a cold look, brushed past her, and went after Daphne. There was no hesitation in leaving her behind.
Callista's maids and knights, watching it all, were stunned. The empire's crown prince had prioritized a lowly maid over Thalassa's princess.
Callista's face flushed bright red with the humiliation of being cast aside.
* * *
Cold winter rain was falling. Daphne clutched her swollen cheek, sobbing helplessly, not knowing what to do.
It was a cold winter rain in the afternoon. Even in the rainy weather, the sunlight was warm, and the garden planted with evergreens shone like summer, out of sync with the season.
It was cold.
Colder than when Pindus's prince had struck her.
Daphne trembled, wrapping her arms around herself. If only she could just stand in this rain, freeze to death. Criminal—yes, that's right. A criminal.
She'd known it all along.
Asherad didn't know the full extent of her crimes. Actually, it was odd that she'd even wanted him to know. He wasn't one to care much about underlings.
But Daphne herself had never confessed her sins outright or sought forgiveness.
The reason was simple. If he knew everything, he wouldn't keep her close.
Daphne's mother, Beatrice, had seduced the emperor and undoubtedly put the empress in a difficult position. Thinking back now, her mother hadn't been free of greed.
She'd wanted to enter the imperial palace and make Daphne the emperor's seed. Daphne now knew how terrifying that was, how it threatened Asherad.
But Asherad's summons, Asherad's warmth—they had been too good. Better than huddling in a tool shed she used as a room during that harsh winter, wrapping herself in a hole-ridden blanket to sleep. Better to kneel before Asherad and quietly gaze at his face.
Reading the books he told her to read was good too. The world with her mother had been warm, but it had vanished like an illusion after her death. To Daphne, fallen into harsh reality, Asherad was a light.
From the childhood days when he'd reached out his hand, to now as an adult—those quiet evenings by the warm stove, reading books, were precious.
When he quietly lifted his hand to stroke her hair, her cold world finally seemed to find warmth.
"Eek, waaah!"
Daphne had always lived in resignation to her mother's wrongs. If she claimed her mother wasn't a criminal, they'd point fingers and call her brazen, the criminal's daughter.
She could never look up at the sky, always keeping her head down, unable to speak in her own defense.
"It's not my fault."
So don't hate me. Saying the words she'd never dared before, Daphne trembled. As she shook her head like that, a surge of sorrow welled up.
"Why, why did you lie! Why!"
She poured out her resentment toward her dead mother. The fragile mother who seemed like she'd shatter. The weak mother. The mother who loved her so much.
And the mother she loved most.
"I didn't want to be born to a liar like you!"
She hadn't wanted to be born under a mother burdened with such sins.
Being the emperor's seed wasn't her crime. But because she loved her mother, and her mother loved her, she'd tried to endure. With Asherad, she could endure. She thought she could.
But everything was ruined now.
In the cold rain, Daphne's lips turned blue. She hoped to freeze to death in this winter rain. Without a shred of warmth, just let her heart stop like that.
She hadn't wished for better happiness in this already twisted life. She harbored no warped greed like her mother's.
She just wanted to share a little more time with Asherad, to be this happy. But life had plunged her deeper into the abyss, into hell.
Just then, a black shadow emerged abruptly, pushing aside some branches.
Daphne startled and scooted backward on her rear. She widened her eyes and looked at the figure. The man, holding a branch, smiled faintly.
"Found you."
"..."
With his lips quirked up crookedly, the figure standing there was, of course, Asherad.
This was his private garden, accessible only to the crown prince, and he knew these corners better than anyone.
"You ran from me again?"
Tears streamed from Daphne's eyes. The branch in Asherad's hand snapped with a crack.
"Daphne."
He uttered her name in a sweet voice.
"Come here."
She wanted to run.
But Asherad called her confidently. She couldn't resist the command. Like a hunting dog thoroughly trained, Daphne froze and stared at Asherad.
"Why, why..."
For a crown prince, he looked utterly disheveled.
Had he not even put on an overcoat, or what? His white shirt clung transparently to his upper body. Seeing it, Daphne cried out.
"Your Highness."
"..."
"You'll, you'll catch a cold!"
Daphne screamed like she was shrieking. Asherad let out a laugh. That laugh somehow felt bright, confusing her.
"It's cold, Daphne."
At those words, Daphne ran to Asherad. Soon, he pulled her into his broad embrace. The winter rain no longer felt cold to her.
"I told you. Sins aren't hereditary."
"..."
"That's unfair."
"..."
He tightened his arms around her with a squeeze. Burying her face in his chest, Daphne spoke. Then a gentle voice reached her ear.
"If you really were Father's child, how lucky that would be, Daphne."
"..."
"Maybe we'd have made good siblings, don't you think?"
She flinched at the word "siblings," trembling. But she found herself glad at those words.
"...But Your Highness. My mother. She... to Your Highness's mother."
"That doesn't matter much to me."
"..."
"How could I not cherish someone who might have been my little sister?"
Asherad was a good man. He always spoke the straight truth. People said he was the son of a god.
The brilliant one must have been combed directly by the gods when his soul was formed.
But Daphne didn't think so.
Daphne looked up at Asherad. In this moment, she dared to say it—Asherad was her god.
Her god, standing with the sun at his back, smiled softly at Daphne.