Chapter 22
Chapter 22
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: History of Obsession
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Fabian was bewildered. He couldn’t believe what had transpired in the Imperial Palace.
The Emperor’s flirtations, the Empress’s torments, the Crown Prince arriving at just the right moment to rescue her. And Daphne, asleep on Asherad’s lap amid it all.
Everything felt bizarre and unnatural. Humans naturally feared things that defied common sense. The imperial family, racing toward the pinnacle of irrationality, filled Fabian with dread.
Even after fleeing from Daphne, Asherad hadn’t forgotten him and had summoned him. Asherad had looked at him while stroking Daphne, as if marking his territory.
Fabian ground his teeth and departed the palace. The predawn breeze was bitterly cold. He had no idea what to do next.
Waiting for Fabian upon his return home was Count Rocania. The count, usually so playful, punched him in the face without warning.
“Why, what’s that all of a sudden!”
Count Rocania raised his fist and said,
“You’ve got to be more careful who you seduce. Didn’t I warn you about that?”
The count bellowed. Seeing Fabian’s face darken as if he suspected something, the count continued.
“What, did they threaten you? What did that Emperor say?”
Fabian shook his head.
“No? That Belenus, that beast in heat, doesn’t even care who sees him anymore.”
Should he mention that the Crown Prince had threatened him? Fabian hesitated. But seeing the count curse the Emperor so fearlessly, he worried the Crown Prince might kill him outright.
The count was always sly and slippery, but when angered, he threw caution to the wind. In a deflated voice, Fabian asked,
“Why can’t I approach that woman?”
Count Rocania laughed and said,
“There’s one woman I could never seduce.”
“…….”
“Guess why.”
Fabian couldn’t respond to the absurd question. Count Rocania gave a cold smile and said,
“That woman was the Emperor’s. If she’d just been some ordinary concubine, I might’ve tried seducing her anyway, but she was different.”
“…….”
“Do you know what the Emperor did? He loved her. Truly loved her!”
The Emperor Belenus had loved Daphne’s mother? Fabian’s head spun.
“But here’s the thing—his way of loving was downright strange.”
“…….”
“He brought this beautiful woman into the palace from who knows where and kept her by his side. Later, afraid someone might see her, he built a mansion near the palace to hide her away.”
Count Rocania slowly closed and opened his eyes, as if recalling the woman.
“Yes, while she was in the palace, so many things happened. Most notably, anyone who so much as flirted with her was killed outright.”
“…….”
“The flowers she showed affection for were all cut down, and if she cherished anyone—woman or child—it didn’t matter; they were killed too. Even the painter who drew her portrait had his head chopped off.”
“…….”
“No matter how much he doted on her, I valued my life too much to even make eye contact.”
“……Then does that mean the Emperor loves Daphne?”
His voice trembled as he asked, and the count smirked.
“A woman he was that obsessed with dies, and her daughter is born. You think he’d just let that be?”
“…….”
“She’s the child of another man, but since there’s no blood tie, Belenus might actually like that. Or maybe it wouldn’t matter even if there was.”
Fabian felt nausea rise at those words. His stomach churned.
“If the Emperor’s fawning over her like that, her face must be quite pretty by now—taking after her mother.”
“Then the Crown Prince…….”
“Hmm? What about the Crown Prince?”
“No, nothing.”
Could the Crown Prince have been warning him about the Emperor’s danger?
No. No. He’d made Daphne kneel at his feet and read to her. He’d stroked her like a cat in his lap while flaunting himself to that man.
It was a man’s instinct.
“So the Emperor wants to make Daphne his concubine? A girl he once treated like a daughter…….”
“Probably. Seems he’s not even hiding it anymore. No shame at all.”
“…….”
“I hear he’s extending the same claws to her now. No one’s to be kind to that woman. No one’s to treat her warmly. That’s the order.”
“And if someone treats her kindly?”
“They all died. Those who pitied her, saying what crime had a young girl committed, were executed for disobeying orders. Innocent young servants had their hands cut off and were chased away. Even the animals were killed.”
“…….”
“Recently, a male servant was killed just for speaking to her once…….”
Fabian sighed at that. But he harbored another doubt. Wasn’t it the Crown Prince showing that obsession, not the Emperor?
Who was the one obsessed?
“So the Emperor’s been constantly monitoring Daphne?”
“He probably didn’t watch her every moment, but often enough. He likely paid no attention when she was young, but once she grew and started resembling her mother, the obsession began.”
Fabian ground his teeth.
“Then why am I still alive?”
“First, the Empress’s death and welcoming a new one kept him occupied.”
“…….”
“Second, me.”
“…….”
“Thanks to this clever father of yours. No matter what, he wouldn’t want me as an enemy.”
Count Rocania thumped his chest. He had developed cannons, the desperately needed long-range weapons for the battlefield.
How could they kill a man like that? The blueprints were in his head, and the artisans he employed were absolutely loyal to him.
“So, son. Think wisely. If you don’t want to lose your life.”
“I value my life too.”
Fabian spat irritably and stormed into his room. The count clicked his tongue. His face grew steadily colder.
“There are lines you just don’t cross, but that brat’s worse than a rotten rag.”
Count Rocania ground his teeth.
“That’s why he turned the Crown Prince into what he is, isn’t it? A pathetic wretch who abandons his own son. And he rules the empire? The country’s doomed.”
He freely cursed the foolish, heartless Emperor.
* * *
Morning came, and the sun rose to noon. Fabian lay awake, lost in thought. As the sun began dipping toward the west, he rose and headed to a place he knew from before.
The grave of Daphne’s mother, Beatrice.
Fabian rode hard toward it. The wind tousled his hair.
Was this love?
Or chivalry?
Or atonement for his cowardly failure to help her before?
As he ran to pick daffodils, Fabian pondered.
They had shared barely two seasons together. One was pure unrequited love, the other just tentative conversations.
If asked if she meant more than family, he could say no.
But.
But.
But,
Wasn’t it too pitiful?
His chest tightened.
Fabian recalled the season he’d watched over Daphne. She was ostracized and ignored by everyone. Sometimes she spoke in the tiniest voice, and each time, not knowing how she’d been treated, his heart ached terribly.
A woman in shabby maid’s clothes. Yet when she smiled, she was more beautiful than anyone.
Fabian liked her.
Fabian was an outsider. A bastard, but still cared for by his father, giving him a home in the capital with his family and the chance to become a knight.
Though illegitimate, his life hadn’t been truly unhappy.
Of course, he’d faced the principal wife’s jealousy and bullying from the count’s legitimate heirs. But those were childish pranks, and as adults, they ignored each other like strangers. He’d lived a decent life.
His father was wealthy enough to support all his children, took responsibility for the women he touched, showed them some affection, and his own family—mother and little sister—were bound by strong familial love.
But…….
Daphne was different.
No one was born to be unhappy; she couldn’t be left like this.
Daphne’s life had been thoroughly violated.
The knights had warned him not to go near her, but trusting his father’s influence, he’d ignored them. Or perhaps it was the rashness of untried youth.
Fabian stood at the graveside. No matter how favored a concubine, they couldn’t bury her in the palace, so Daphne’s mother lay here.
The grave seemed tended by the Emperor, neat but somehow lonely. Probably because no one came to visit.
Amid that sorrowful, lonely gravesite, daffodils bloomed. He plucked some to give to Daphne.
“Daphne.”
Fabian wept as he gazed at the wilted daffodils. They seemed just like her future.
The only rain in her drought was Asherad’s condescending love, so she desperately clung to it, yearning for affection.
Daphne had done nothing wrong. Living such a life was utterly unjust.
Now he understood what was happening. Daphne couldn’t stay there. Her future was clear: toyed with by the highborn, thoroughly violated, then discarded.
The world couldn’t all be on her side, but he would be.
He recalled the first time he saw her.
The maid who’d fled in tears stuck in his mind. He hated her constant fearful expression. Yet when he spoke to her, her eyes would sparkle just a little, which was endearing. Her smiles in response to his occasional words were lovely.
She always shrank back, resigned as the criminal’s daughter. Yet she never resented those around her—that pitying sight made him want to protect her.
Fabian shed tears.
Knowing full well what this decision meant, he couldn’t stop. But wasn’t this all he’d been taught?
Even his philandering father had always taken responsibility. He’d done the same for his family. So taking responsibility for the woman he loved, though not blood kin, was only natural.
Chivalry?
Perhaps that too. Knights rescue ladies. Beyond that, was it even sane? Someone had to save her. Rescue her and make her smile more.
He wasn’t a mythic hero. But he could be one for one woman.
To do that, Fabian
was willing to plunge into Daphne’s hell alongside her.
He gripped the daffodils tightly.