Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: The Woman in the Bathroom
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Calista trembled violently. As rain pattered against the window, she bit her lip so hard it turned white, then blood beaded up.
What the hell just happened to me?
“P-Princess, your lip is bleeding…”
“Shut up!”
Calista struck her maid without hesitation, then turned around. Yes. Asherad had chosen that wench over her.
“I… I…!”
She had exposed that woman’s secret for his sake, out of pity for him…!
And yet he had gone after her without a second thought?
It was an unbearable insult. Cruelty flashed in Calista’s eyes. She wouldn’t rest until she paid her back somehow for this humiliation.
“I need to see His Majesty!”
“Oh, Princess!”
Her lady-in-waiting tried to stop her, but Calista didn’t even notice. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of revenge against Daphne and Asherad.
Thud, thud. Forgetting all about dignity, she stormed to the Emperor’s office. The Emperor, who had been working, welcomed his “fiancée” with pleasure.
“Come in.”
She despised his decrepit form, but right now, this man was her betrothed—and someone who would wield his power for her honor.
Just as her mother had taught her, Calista knew how to use men.
“What brings you here, Princess?”
“Your Majesty, I never imagined your son would insult me like this.”
She had been mocked before for not being the king’s true daughter, but never humiliated like this.
To be not just second choice, but utterly ignored! Her teeth ground together. She always lost her reason in anger—a flaw she tried to hide—but she had no spare calm for that now.
“Insult? What do you mean?”
The Emperor asked leisurely. Calista didn’t notice the faint sneer in his eyes.
“Crown Prince Asherad. I warned him to stay away from that woman.”
“…That woman?”
“The one who insulted Your Majesty! The one who dared claim to be your daughter!”
Her words rang hollow, like shouting into the void, but she didn’t realize it.
His sudden exposure made him narrow his eyes. Displeasure creased his brow, but Calista pressed on.
“Why is that wretch still crawling around the Imperial Palace like vermin? The Crown Prince seemed oblivious, so I told him who she really is. Then he yelled at me and chased after her.”
“Chased after her?”
“Yes! And yelled at me first!”
The Emperor gestured for her to continue. Emboldened, she did.
“What did that bastard do? No, tell me exactly what happened.”
“I told him everything. That she’s the daughter of the wicked woman who deceived Your Majesty! That she’s receiving Your Majesty’s punishment. That he must keep his distance.”
“And?”
“The lowly thing ran off, and Your Majesty’s son yelled at me before chasing after her.”
“That boy… yelled at you.”
The Emperor let out a hollow laugh, and Calista nodded eagerly, mistaking it for agreement.
“Yes! Even the Crown Prince must be blinded. That seductress’s daughter has bewitched him…”
Calista remained oblivious as the Emperor’s face darkened with rage.
As always, she was lost in her own fury, whining for someone to vent it on.
“Rip that woman to shreds right now. Drive her out.”
The Emperor stared at her with a hardened expression. Convinced it was anger toward Asherad and the woman, Calista felt no doubt.
“Princess, you can demand anything of me.”
Just as her face lit up, the Emperor’s voice turned sinister.
“Except the throne.”
Bewildered, Calista blinked. Then the Emperor hurled the inkwell.
Splash. Black ink splattered across the wall, followed by the shatter of glass. A few drops hit Calista.
A chill silence fell. Only the rain sounded between them.
“I-I…”
“Disciplining my children and handling that woman are my affairs. Didn’t the King of Thalassa teach you about boundaries?”
“…”
“If you lack that education, perhaps learn when to speak up and when to stay silent?”
Calista paled at his words. She finally realized this was a foreign land without her mother or stepfather. Not everyone would indulge her whims.
“Your Majesty, that’s not—”
“Out!”
Calista slunk away empty-handed.
The Emperor’s face twisted as the door closed behind her.
“If she weren’t the cornerstone…”
Thalassa Kingdom’s dowry and saltpeter monopoly were too vital. Saltpeter fueled gunpowder, and the Empire produced far less than Thalassa.
But he had learned from his first wife, Sabrina. Thalassa’s king cared only about upholding the marriage alliance, not how she was treated. The king prioritized cheap gunpowder from the Empire’s ally.
Calista, adopted as a foster daughter, was merely a tool offered to him.
The foolish girl hadn’t realized it yet…
The Emperor dismissed her from his mind and furrowed his brow. Asherad and Daphne. Daphne. And Asherad again.
He pictured his young, handsome son.
He had tolerated him treating her like a toy.
To avoid being called an emperor without an heir, he had made Asherad Crown Prince. He overlooked his son reaching for Daphne for that reason.
The Emperor wanted to crush Daphne too, and watching his son do it was entertaining enough.
Daphne’s ruined life was just a plaything. Grimacing, he thought of Beatrice’s face.
“Beatrice.”
Even in death, he yearned for her. That witchily lovable woman. His adorable seductress.
If Daphne resembled some bastard he didn’t know, he would have destroyed her life mercilessly. But if she took after Beatrice… that changed things.
Narrowing his eyes, the Emperor licked his lips.
* * *
Something felt off.
Daphne thought so. It was so deferential it bordered on strange. She didn’t know why a warm blanket was wrapped around her.
Asherad had always left her shivering in the cold, and she accepted it as normal. That was his version of warmth.
She had warmed herself in his sweltering room and thanked him for bringing her there.
But now, why? Why push her into the tub? She thought they were just heading to bathe, but he had drawn the water and ordered her in outright. He even turned his back while she undressed.
The bathwater, scented with bubbles, foamed white. Maybe that was why it wasn’t as embarrassing as expected.
“Your Highness, this kindness…”
“Be quiet.”
“…”
She nodded silently. Incredibly, Asherad had dragged a chair over and sat beside her. Soaked himself, he gazed down indifferently, unperturbed by the chill.
Coming from the cold into warm water? His cheeks and lips were unusually flushed. She hugged her knees.
Wrapping her slender frame in her arms to cover herself, she looked at him. As always, his gaze was composed on her huddled form.
He reached out, stroking her flushed cheek. Her black, drab clothes aside, her loose hair suited the pristine bathroom strikingly.
The fragrant bath salts made her head ache. His slender fingers trailed her damp skin.
Surprised by her emaciated body? He kneaded her bony shoulders. She flinched at the subtle touch. A strange sensation stirred.
He withdrew his hand, resting his arm on the chair, and stared.
“Come here.”
His pale, long fingers lifted her chin. For some reason, she felt like a mermaid caught above water—unable to breathe.
Unthinkingly, her eyes fixed on his red lips. She didn’t know why. They drew her in. Maybe because they were just as wet? Daphne coveted those lips boldly.
“Call me Big Brother.”
Her eyes widened. From those coveted red lips came cruel words.
“Go on.”
But for some reason, no sound came. She always obeyed him, yet this felt wrong.
Why couldn’t she speak?
She had once thought of him as Big Brother. Wished he really were.
When she didn’t open her mouth, his hand plunged ruthlessly inside.
His thumb entered abruptly. Panicking, she bit it lightly while staring at him. His thumb stirred her mouth.
It didn’t feel like torment because Asherad tickled her tongue too.
“Now, say it.”
“…”
“Daphne. Call me Big Brother.”
“…”
Daphne couldn’t utter it. That word stuck in her throat. Desperate, she gazed at him. He withdrew his thumb.
“Daphne, I…”
“…”
“cherish you like a little sister.”
Was this cause for joy or sorrow? Discovering her disappointment, she drowned in self-loathing.
Becoming family should be joyful. He had defined their bond as cherishing her like a sister—something to celebrate.
Far better than when she despaired as just another worthless maid.
He had rushed to her when she was insulted, smiling brightly. Refusing to call that man Big Brother… She was confused by her own inexplicable resistance.
Asherad savored the reluctance and confusion on her face.
“Daphne.”
“Yes.”
“Planning to run?”
“…”
“Like before?”
His hand stroked her wet hair tenderly, like caressing something precious—soft and lingering. Daphne shook her head vigorously.
“I won’t run.”
“And if you do it again?”
At his question, Daphne smiled at her godlike man.
“If I run, do whatever you want with me.”
Her life was worthless anyway.
Then, something soft and wet settled on her forehead.
She had realized it long ago. The sole reason she clung to life, prolonging her pathetic existence, was simply to see this man.
Asherad’s smiling lips hardened at the sight. He leaned in. What was he doing? As she wondered, hot lips pressed her cool forehead.
“Good girl.”
His whisper as he pulled away was husky and cracked. Slowly, he tucked her stray damp hair behind her ear.
Her senses heightened. Looking at the man she should call Big Brother, Daphne pressed her legs together needlessly. Glancing up at him, she saw his throat bob.
In the wordless, tense silence, Daphne warmed herself, blaming the hot bathwater.