Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: The Girl Reading a Fairy Tale
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The Emperor sat holding his teacup, lost in thought as he gazed at the man before him. Count Rocania. A notorious womanizer.
“I hear you’ve taken another wife.”
The Emperor spoke to Count Rocania with a smile. The count grinned back. He had the sturdy build typical of a warrior, yet it was mingled with the sleazy aura unique to those who chased skirts.
“Embarrassing as it is, that’s true.”
“Ha ha, you haven’t changed a bit, Count.”
Count Rocania chuckled at the Emperor’s words. He stroked his mustache.
“Life is short. What’s wrong with savoring the alluring flowers?”
He flashed a smile at the Emperor as if to say, you know what I mean. In the past, the Emperor might have returned the smile in shared understanding, but now his face was strangely stiff.
‘Look at him slithering up the ranks.’
Count Rocania commanded the empire’s central military forces. The man wasn’t a genius commander or particularly strong himself. Womanizers usually neglected their duties, but he had an exceptional instinct for anticipating moves several steps ahead, developing gunpowder weapons and monopolizing the rights to them.
It was thanks to Count Rocania that they held the advantage in dealings with the Thalassa Kingdom. He had generously lent them his engineers for the empire’s sake.
As a result, the Turbul Ducal House—the empire’s foremost knightly family, with its overwhelming command and military might—had been pushed aside.
To the Emperor, who found the Turbul family’s uprightness irksome, Count Rocania had been a useful check. Yet the man’s recklessness occasionally grated on him.
“Your son seems to take after you in his love of flowers.”
“Flowers? What do you mean? My son...”
“Pond. Pond.”
“Ah, Pond!”
The count burst into hearty laughter. The Emperor narrowed his eyes, watching him.
“That woman by the pond was quite the charmer too. Yes, um...”
As the count suddenly drifted into another memory, the Emperor cut in.
“Didn’t I personally assign her to the Crown Prince Palace at your request?”
“I know. Fabian’s a diligent one.”
Count Rocania smiled. For a womanizer, he took responsibility for most of his children. Fabian was one of them.
He was a man overflowing with love in many areas, and paternal affection was one form of it.
“Did my boy commit some offense against Your Majesty?”
For a casual inquiry, his voice brimmed with unexpected worry. This was why Count Rocania was easy to handle.
He did love his children, after all.
“He’s got his eye on the daughter of the woman I brought in myself.”
The Emperor eyed Count Rocania. The count quickly caught on and laughed loudly.
“Ah, that girl? The daughter of the late Lady Beatrice?”
“...”
“She must be a beauty, then. Can’t blame him.”
The count chuckled, oblivious—or pretending to be—to the fact that the Emperor had brought it up as a warning. These dumb soldiers! What good was inventing cannons if they lacked cunning? The Emperor ground his teeth.
“You know what I’m getting at, don’t you?”
“Ah, you thought the daughter of that concubine—whom you mistook for your own—was going to become another one. And now my son’s sniffing around your potential concubine candidate. Must’ve caught you off guard.”
Count Rocania pointed it out with a smiling face. Was he mocking knowingly, or just clueless?
The Emperor’s face hardened instantly, but the count paid it no mind.
This one will have to go too. Must get rid of him. Emperor Belenus ground his teeth.
“My son knows nothing of that. I’ll speak to him, so please quell your anger.”
The count soothed the Emperor. The smile in the count’s eyes turned chilling.
* * *
“Read it again.”
Was this punishment? Daphne kept reading the book as Asherad instructed. Her eyes kept drooping. Daphne let out a sigh.
“Daphne.”
His voice was endlessly tender.
Daphne’s rebellious glare had been caught.
Perhaps that was why. Asherad seated her under his chair as usual and made her read. When sleep overtook her, he would send her away.
But today was different. Asherad told her to read the book.
“And so, the forest nymph... fled the sun god... and became a laurel tree.”
Did he not need sleep? Asherad’s face showed fatigue, but not the precarious exhaustion that threatened to topple him like it did her.
Just then, a knock sounded.
Daphne started to turn her head, but Asherad gently stopped her. It was a silent command to keep reading.
“Read the next story.”
Daphne nodded. She could barely fight the drowsiness.
“There was a girl who loved weaving. Her skill with the loom was unmatched in the entire land. When she embroidered flowers, they seemed to give off a fragrance...”
The door creaked open. Daphne murmured on. A gentle hand stroking her hair urged her forward.
“Daphne. That’s enough now. Go to sleep.”
With that, Daphne closed her heavy eyes, set the book aside, and rested her head on Asherad’s knee. His fingers tickled her ear.
Regular, soft breathing began to fill the air.
Asherad gazed fondly at Daphne, who had leaned her upper body against his knee and fallen asleep. He smiled. Then, lifting his head at the continued footsteps, he stared at the visitor.
“You’re here?”
Asherad gave a soft smile. Sleepy, languid eyes. The peculiar drowsiness of the weary. The visitor—no, Fabian—watched the scene with a rigid expression.
“Why did you summon me?”
The knight spoke quietly, feigning composure. Asherad said nothing, lowering his head again to smooth Daphne’s hair, which scattered like golden thread.
“Your Highness.”
At the urging tone, Asherad pressed a finger to his lips.
“Shh. Keep making noise like that, and you’ll wake her.”
Asherad spoke seductively with an eye smile. Fabian reacted to the incomprehensible sight.
“Is this what you wanted me to see?”
“...”
“I...”
“Even on the surface, you’re my knight. I have to give you at least a warning.”
Asherad stroked Daphne’s hair. He looked at Fabian’s face as he spoke. Fabian alternated between staring at Asherad and Daphne on his knee, his face pale.
“What the...”
“...”
“What kind of hell is unfolding here?”
“...”
Fabian could piece together what was happening. But one thing he knew for certain: an unbearable ugliness had taken root here in the Imperial Palace.
Embracing Daphne, treated like a pet.
* * *
“Daphne, are you all right?”
Sara gazed tenderly at Daphne’s slapped cheek. The girl with brown hair looked wrapped in guilt.
“Oh dear. It’s really swollen.”
After getting hit by Callista, she’d only read books in Asherad’s chambers. Was that a big punishment? Not really.
She’d fallen out of the Empress’s favor and still returned alive—that was miracle enough. And when she woke, Daphne had been lying on Asherad’s sofa.
“The head maid said to rest for a while.”
Daphne nodded weakly.
“What happened? I heard you got caught wearing clothes. Did His Highness scold you?”
Sara asked cautiously. Daphne looked at her innocent face and said quietly, like a sigh.
“He didn’t scold me much. Just made me read books all night without sleep.”
“What happened? Did... His Highness do something to you...”
Daphne shook her head at the words.
“Nothing happened. I really just read books.”
Sara eyed Daphne’s body intently.
“And Sir Fabian?”
“Fabian?”
Daphne gave a hollow laugh.
“He ran away.”
“...”
“No, not ran away. He just... left.”
A deflating sound seemed to escape at her words. Daphne peered closely at Sara’s face, but Sara looked pitying.
“Poor Daphne.”
“...”
“Even he couldn’t handle you.”
Daphne didn’t reply. Because Sara was right. Even if that man liked her, it wouldn’t turn her back into an ordinary girl.
“Oh, look at me. Madam Raphel told me to clean the stove... Daphne, see you later.”
Sara stood and backed away. She was used to holing up in the room. Daphne hugged her knees, killing time.
As night deepened into dawn, the door burst open.
“Daphne.”
At the bang of the door, Daphne looked up. It was Fabian. She startled, and he pressed a finger to his lips, signaling quiet.
Separate from her disappointment in Fabian, she had no idea what was going on. No one would come even if she made noise, but Daphne nodded anyway.
Fabian saw her huddled on the bed, then grabbed her hand and pulled. As she opened her mouth to speak, something damp was pressed into her palm.
“Here.”
Daphne caught the scent of grass. What’s this? She looked at what he’d given her.
Wilted yellow daffodils. Daphne blinked at them.
Why flowers all of a sudden...?
Fabian said softly.
“They were blooming on your mother’s grave.”