Chapter 63
Chapter 63
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Self-Harm
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Asherad, who had just rushed in, let his gaze slowly drift down from Daphne's face. Her bandaged hand, and the bandaged leg peeking out from beneath her slightly lifted skirt.
“You seem to be standing just fine, so it doesn't look like you're badly hurt.”
It was the first words out of Asherad's mouth after so long apart. They weren't affectionate.
Asherad turned his back and started to leave the room. Ah, no. Daphne stepped forward without thinking and crashed to the floor with a thud. Asherad turned back around.
It was a silent gaze that said nothing. He wasn't kindly taking her hand; he was simply observing what she did.
That look felt like a test. Daphne put strength into her aching leg and swallowed a scream. Her sprained ankle hurt more than she'd imagined.
Limping, she approached Asherad. He waited for her slowly. Daphne felt a profound sadness at that.
“Don't go.”
“......”
“I waited for you.”
At Daphne's words, Asherad fully turned his body from facing outward to facing inward. He stared at the woman standing before him.
“You're not going to come looking for me anymore?”
Daphne anxiously scanned Asherad, as if he were her whole world once again. He narrowed his eyes.
“You're never going to see me again?”
Asherad didn't answer the question. Looking at Daphne, he lifted the corner of his mouth.
“The special treatment I gave you must have been pretty sweet, huh?”
“......”
Daphne made a wounded expression and knelt before Asherad. Her twisted ankle made another crunching sound. Her scraped knee stung as it touched the floor.
“If you tell me to kneel, I will.”
“......”
“If you tell me to act like a dog, I will.”
Asherad's gaze fell to Daphne's knee and leg. He saw her bite her lip slightly after speaking.
The furrowed brow was clearly from holding back pain. Daphne sighed under his gaze.
“Yes. I know my place.”
“......”
“While Your Majesty was away, I was scared I'd have to go back to that room.”
Tears fell from Daphne's eyes. Truth needed some lies mixed in. There were too many complications for them to whisper only sweet words of love.
“But, Your Majesty.”
“......”
“I was scared you wouldn't come looking for me again.”
“......”
“Without you, I'm utterly alone.”
Of course, you were the one who made me so isolated. Daphne swallowed the words threatening to spill out and gazed desperately at Asherad.
“I'm scared.”
“......”
“I'm scared I'll be alone here forever.”
Daphne's voice trembled. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn't even need to act; the sobs just came.
Asherad watched Daphne's tears. If the color of a statue he always saw changed, would it make a face like that? He seemed intrigued yet kept his distance.
An eternity seemed to pass, or a long time at least.
Asherad crouched down and looked at Daphne.
“You seem to know your place now. I'm pleased.”
Another tear rolled down Daphne's cheek. He lifted her chin.
“But, Daphne.”
“......”
“I never told you to say those words in such a foolish way.”
He lifted Daphne's hand. Then, pulling her up by the body, he grasped her waist and stood her up.
He sat her in a chair and promptly knelt before her feet. Daphne was startled by the natural motion, without any hesitation.
The Emperor knelt before her. She'd thought it would feel utterly humiliating.... But it was so casual....
Asherad glanced at Daphne's knee where blood was seeping through the bandage again, then reached out to examine her ankle.
“Ah, eek!”
In kneeling, the bandage she'd just secured had come loose. He undid it with his hand.
“Y-Your, Your Majesty.”
His thumb pressed firmly on the sore spot. Daphne grimaced. He watched her agonized expression without so much as blinking.
“Yes. Don't run away.”
He kept fiddling with her pinkish ankle. Daphne tried to pull away, but his large hand gripped her small white foot.
His hot palm against her slightly cool foot was intense. Daphne thought it tickled. He placed his finger on the swollen bone and pressed down. Daphne let out a shallow breath.
It sounded just like the gasps when their flesh mingled. Startled, she looked at Asherad.
Through his fallen bangs, his eyes gleamed dangerously.
“Try running away from me.”
I'll crush this ankle.
Asherad smiled brightly at Daphne. She understood what the man touching her ankle was saying.
* * *
Tears welled up in Callista's eyes as she read the letter.
“How could they do this to me....”
How long had she cried? Her throat was hoarse. Callista's eyes turned red. Blood trickled from her bitten lip.
The letter said that the princess of Thalassa Kingdom was to become Asherad's bride, and she should help.
Veronica Arald, Duchess of Arald from a branch of Thalassa Kingdom, was a branch royal who had become the Thalassa King's “last” daughter.
It was the birth of the youngest daughter who followed Callista, the one he cherished like the apple of his eye. Callista screamed in rage.
“Your Highness must be so fortunate! With that wretch's youngest daughters just keeping on coming!”
She knew the royal family was filthy, but not like this. And a Duchess of Arald, no less! She was....
Callista shrieked in fury. What if that woman became Empress? Callista would be the setting sun, and the Empress the rising one.
Naturally, without her husband as backing, she'd become an old woman relegated to the back chambers.
She, still young and beautiful....
And if that bitch bore the Crown Prince? Then the Duchess of Arald would smile as she ground her down bit by bit.
She had to stop that!
Callista wiped her tears and stood. Asherad had said he would hold a ball.
The Duchess of Arald—no, the princess—wasn't necessarily set to become Empress. Callista rose to plead with Asherad.
Would Asherad even listen to her request?
Asherad ignored Callista outright. He'd slashed her budget and fired her maids as examples.
She, once the highest woman in Pheneios Empire, now found herself watching the palace people's faces.
She needed to reconcile with Asherad.
She had to make peace before Veronica Arald arrived. And stop her from becoming Empress. Callista's eyes gleamed coldly.
Callista donned the drab clothes she so hated wearing. Worried her flushed face would look too awful, she applied light makeup over it.
To look pale, she made her lips as ashen as possible. She didn't braid and pin up her hair like before; she just let it hang loose.
She looked in the mirror. A woman weeping from sorrow.
Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, moist and weak.
The fragile look, as if she'd collapse any moment, satisfied even her. Prepared, Callista headed out.
“His Majesty is currently resting in the garden.”
Perfect timing. Resting would naturally soften the heart. She headed to the Emperor's garden.
Fortunately, the knights permitted Callista's entry. They simply gave way with subtle expressions.
Passing the garden of lilies bred to bloom in autumn, Callista's face hardened. It shocked her deeply.
If the Emperor was resting, she'd imagined him sitting on a bench reading a book, or enjoying the breeze—slightly disheveled but elegantly poised.
But Asherad was different from her expectations.
He was simply sitting on the ground. Warm sunlight, cool breeze. Asherad sat on the grass, head bowed, lost in thought at something.
Callista's gaze shifted there. What she'd thought was white cloth was a person lying down. Blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight.
Asherad stroked that hair with a smile. Clear autumn sky, pleasantly cool wind, non-stinging sunlight.
In this perfect time for a nap, that arrogant man had willingly laid that vulgar woman on his lap, smiling as he watched her sleep.
It was an atmosphere she couldn't approach.
An atmosphere she shouldn't approach.
Precarious yet warm and tender. Beneath that perfect picture, Callista became the outsider. Did he know what expression he wore? What face he made as he looked at her?
Discarding etiquette, law, dignity—all of it—the man tenderly stroked the lowly criminal's daughter, the vulgar seductress, or the lust doll he once thought his proxy, as if she were most precious.
‘He's doing it to show me. To show he's angry.’
Callista desperately convinced herself. But the world she'd built in her delusions began to crumble now.