Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: This Is What You Wanted
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Asherad whispered while gazing at the beautiful naked woman before him.
“Come on, hurry up, Daphne. Say ‘big brother.’”
“……No!”
Yes, yes, this is what you wanted.
Asherad’s hand glided over Daphne’s body. Parting her soft thighs, he thrust deep inside her in one swift motion.
A gasp escaped Daphne’s lips. Asherad could make her feel it over and over, time and again.
Daphne writhed her hips repeatedly, her crimson lips parting wide in response to his movements. Once it was all over, Asherad pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“You can’t make those dead eyes at me.”
“…….”
“Daphne, I like you when you’re alive. I love you.”
Daphne weakly shifted her gaze to Asherad. But her eyes drifted off into the distant void. Looking at this man, she recalled what she had truly wanted.
She hadn’t sought revenge against him.
Just… a little, just a tiny bit.
She had only wished to be treated as a human. To be loved as a human.
That was all.
Daphne squeezed her eyes shut.
* * *
“Well, that woman, I heard she was here?”
“And His Majesty treasures her so much.”
Even the new maids loved to gossip. Of course, those who had to stay silent like furniture in front of their superiors naturally let their tongues run loose in private.
Amanda pursed her lips as she listened to the chatter.
It had already been two seasons since Daphne had run away, only to be caught by the newly ascended emperor and become his “lover.”
Sara had become her personal maid, leaving Amanda alone here.
“I heard the people attached to this place bullied her so much. You all look like you’ve been here forever?”
“Yeah, last time I went looking for the cleaning supplies closet, there was this room there. They said that maid used to live in it. It reeked of rat droppings and mold…”
“Good lord… So her lover doesn’t even get revenge? You all seem like long-timers here.”
“Right? If it were me, the moment I had His Majesty’s favor, I’d turn this place upside down.”
The whispering newbie maids grew too excited to watch their words.
“They made her do all sorts of weird tasks and tormented her.”
“So pitiful.”
Amanda ground her teeth and shouted.
“Can’t you watch your mouths?!”
“Eek!” The gossiping maids froze in shock. Amanda placed her hands on her hips.
“If you don’t know anything, shut your traps! Go wring out some proper rags!”
At Amanda’s roar, they grabbed their buckets and wet rags and scurried away. Still fuming, Amanda huffed.
“That pisses me off.”
“…….”
“What do they know?”
Amanda clenched her teeth. She picked up a discarded rag and let out a sigh.
“Such a pain.”
Amanda grumbled. Her mood had soured. It was one of those days where she wanted to spit on the spot she’d just cleaned.
* * *
The state council chamber filled with groans. It was only natural. The holy painting—the most important item in the grand trade expedition sponsored by the imperial family—had been plundered.
In particular, it featured a work by the artist Arete: the holy painting *Time of Great Rift*, depicting the valiant war goddess wielding her spear to cleave the earth.
The famous myth told of foolish humans committing the sin of scorning the gods, only for the stern deity to split the land as punishment, driving humanity apart.
Arete had captured that moment with striking realism and dynamism—the slender goddess swinging her spear.
Yet wrapped in blood-soaked crimson cloth, her cold face embodied the fury and murderous intent of a war god.
Even that ferocious image evoked awe in its sanctity.
A perfect harmony of righteous anger and holiness. It was one of Arete’s masterpieces among masterpieces.
And that holy painting had been looted en route by ship in trade with the Marki Kingdom. Trouble enough already.
The King of Marki, renowned as an art enthusiast, would make things a headache if he learned of it. They would never hand over their prized porcelain exports.
But was that all? With the new emperor freshly ascended, such an incident would make him look ridiculous. The Foreign Minister, who oversaw the trade, paled and blanched. His execution loomed.
“Looks like Marki pulled a prank.”
Unlike the speechless nobles, Asherad remained calm. He treated it like someone else’s problem. It seemed leisurely to some, untrustworthy to others.
Taking that seductress’s daughter as his lover—clearly, this emperor lacked judgment.
Falling for a woman’s skirts, perhaps dumber than thought. Hadn’t even the previous emperor tried to sideline him despite being his son?
A newly enthroned emperor was always subject to suspicion and testing.
“How did the navy let it slip away?”
“By the time the merchant ship was attacked, the raiders had long escaped. And with Boreas’s wrath brewing in the skies.”
Boreas referred to the wind god. Yet Navy Commander Duke Mausell couldn’t lift his head.
His charge—the merchant ship—had been raided and the thieves fled, but he hadn’t pursued out of fear of the storm. Shame burned him.
“We must track the escape route, by any means…”
“No, enough. Marki, a naval powerhouse, did this deliberately—they won’t leave traces.”
Even an empire with formidable defenses looked weak under a young ruler. Marki’s fool of a king clearly underestimated Asherad.
“Don’t blame yourself.”
Asherad smiled gently.
“One holy painting is worth less than the lives of those who swore loyalty. It was the right call.”
Duke Mausell blinked in confusion at the kind expression. He’d expected dismissal, not praise.
The late emperor would’ve cursed him out regardless of rank and demanded the painting’s recovery at once.
But Asherad seemed unhurried. Brushing off the provocation with a cool smile—it was utterly elegant.
*Surely he won’t spit venom while smiling like that?* But Asherad’s face held not a speck of negativity.
*As expected, the emperor envied his own son!*
Duke Mausell harbored respect for Asherad, a knight who’d fought in wars firsthand. This encouragement for such a blunder only made it grow.
Unlike the petty emperor, the crown prince had been gentle even to inferiors. The same on the battlefield. Refusing privileges, fighting as one with his knights—he was naturally revered.
“Then, let’s do this.”
He pondered briefly, like the beautiful figure in the holy painting, then flashed a deep smile.
“If the trail ends with Marki’s king, I should respond in kind—with a prank.”
He turned left to the fidgeting man.
“Count Leski.”
“Yes? Yes.”
It was Count Leski. The man who had sponsored and unearthed the artist Arete. He sat with head bowed, as if on pins and needles.
“No, it can’t be. Artist Arete has already ceased creating.”
Before Asherad could speak, Count Leski shook his head and cried out.
“That’s not what I want.”
Asherad addressed the puzzled count.
“My lover’s been down lately. Thought she could use some help.”
The nobles deflated with sighs. Suddenly, a lover? Was this emperor truly lacking sense?
“What kind of… help?”
“Your sister.”
“…….”
“She loves painting, doesn’t she?”
The count flinched. Under Asherad’s steady gaze, he bowed his head.
“Teach her to paint.”
“Understood…”
As Count Leski spoke, Asherad smiled faintly.
“Entrust the holy painting matter to Count Leski. Something on par with *Time of Great Rift* will surely return.”
How could paintings come from holding a sister hostage? Skeptical glances abounded. Duke Mausell was among the disappointed.
Yet one man clutched his pounding heart.
*How… how did he know?*
Count Leski gripped his racing chest. The emperor knew for certain.
*How did he know my sister was Arete!*
Women could paint as a hobby—still lifes or landscapes, never holy images or heroic epics. But the moment her talent shone in this, they hailed her as heaven-sent genius.
Fearing execution for blasphemy, the count had planted a proxy. Everything was meticulous—how was it exposed?!
Using his mistress as an excuse, Asherad issued a quiet warning. Hand over a painting. Some called the emperor ignorant; others, terrifying.
This clever young emperor had already built his intelligence network. Count Leski broke into a cold sweat.