Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: The Mad Boy
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Daphne doubted her ears. What on earth was this?
She stared at the man standing before her, gazing at her.
Drink your fill? Of what? Of me? Was he telling them to have their way with her?
Or perhaps the one who said those cruel words wasn’t him? But no, the man who spat out those vicious words was unmistakably Asherad. His ashen face. His bloodless lips. And yet, that uniquely beautiful face remained unscathed.
The man smiled with an elegance that made her teeth chatter, offering up Daphne’s body willingly, as if she meant nothing at all.
“Why that face?”
He asked tenderly.
“If you’ve sinned, it’s only natural to face punishment, isn’t it?”
He was talking about this incident, of course. But for some reason, the words stuck in her head.
He stared into Daphne’s eyes for a long while. No further explanation was needed.
“I...”
Asherad. Don’t abandon me. Daphne recalled the times she’d spent with Asherad. Times reading books at his feet, chatting and basking in his affection. Times when she’d been given cookies, or enjoyed the privilege of eating his leftovers.
Stay by my side. That’s what Asherad had clearly said.
Asherad cared for her.
He must care for her.
But...
Asherad turned his back on Daphne’s dazed face and left. A brief silence fell over the room. She finally realized she was alone. Terror surged through her in that instant.
“Your prince won’t be able to save you either.”
She tried to back away, kicking her legs, but a large hand gripped her slender wrist and yanked her roughly. Daphne shook her head frantically. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
The ugliness and lechery of the man before her paled in comparison to Asherad’s “betrayal.”
No, was it truly betrayal? Strictly speaking, Asherad had no obligation to help her.
That was right. Asherad had always been like that.
He seemed to care for her, yet... her predicaments... No, don’t think about it. Even in that moment, Daphne gave up on delving deeper.
It was brazen of her even to hope for his help. To Asherad, she wasn’t even worth helping.
He was the one who always spoke of righteousness and justice, so he must have simply pitied her. That’s why he could toss her body aside so carelessly.
But...
But then, why had he told her to stay by his side? Why? Why had he looked at her with that expression? Why?
Was it all a lie? A deception?
Even amid it all, she found herself ridiculous for thinking that prince had deceived her so deeply.
Daphne’s struggles ceased. The man’s hand then touched her neck. Seeing her resistance fade, the prince gladly stroked her hair gently.
“Good girl. That’s it, you little cutie.”
She had deluded herself into thinking that just because that noble prince had glanced at her, or spared her a few extra words, it meant something.
In truth, it was just like her mother, the emperor’s concubine who couldn’t even enter the imperial palace properly—a thought far beyond her station. She was destined to be trampled, crushed, defiled, and cast into the abyss. This was the life of Daphne, born in the slums.
Gazing up at the man breathing heavily above her, she thought blankly as his hand tore at the buttons of her maid’s blouse.
“Open the door!”
At that moment, a loud pounding echoed from the door.
“Damn it, who is it now!”
The Pindus prince gritted his teeth and shouted.
“Your Highness! It’s the priests!”
Priests? Why them? Why were they banging on the prince’s door like this?
“There’s an impure aura here! Open the door at once!”
“This is the Pindus prince’s room!”
“We are priests of Keres! We’ve come because we sensed a strange energy!”
They were the priests of Keres, the god of death who oversaw funerals. They were known to prophesy ruin and destruction at times. Being closest to death, they excelled at detecting the uncanny.
“Open the door! There’s an impure aura here—open it now!”
The priest issued a stern command.
“W-Wait a moment!”
The prince shouted urgently, scrambling to dress. But before he could compose himself, the door flew open. He lost his balance while pulling on his pants and crashed to the floor with a thud.
Light flooded in suddenly, revealing three priests clad in black. Their eyes turned toward Daphne, who was crying, and the prince.
Her disheveled hair, her maid’s uniform, and her tears. One priest clicked his tongue.
“So that’s why there was an uncanny aura here—the source is right in front of us!”
“...”
“Such audacity during a sacred ritual! Do you wish to face the judgment of the death god Keres?”
As the priest bellowed, the prince tried to stand but stumbled again.
Priests of other gods were often power-hungry, but these devotees of the death god feared nothing but death itself.
For a foreign prince to attempt to “punish” a maid by raping her during a national funeral was unseemly. Even the prince had the wits to realize that.
“Th-This wench was at fault...”
“Who wouldn’t see that the prince is assaulting a helpless young girl! Must I personally invoke the judgment of the death god?”
“Are you trying to justify violating a woman? You filthy prince!”
Black energy writhed around the priests’ staffs, and the prince fled the room in horror.
“Your Highness!”
The knights all chased after the prince. Once more, the room held only Daphne and the priests.
“Before death, all are equal—yet how harshly mortals suffer under the weight of status.”
They clicked their tongues at Daphne. She rose shakily and bowed to the priests.
“Th-Thank you.”
“No need for thanks.”
The gruff priest eyed Daphne.
“Girl, you’ve gotten tangled with troublesome things.”
“...”
“Being favored by Lord Keres isn’t a blessing.”
What did that mean? Favored by the god of death...?
Seeing her frightened expression, the priest said no more, clicked his tongue, and left.
The others followed.
Daphne straightened her clothes and escaped that horrific room.
Another horror had been added to her already nightmarish life. She staggered down the corridor. Heading to the servants’ area, she drew whispers as they saw her state.
There was no pity in their eyes. Just the gaze of spectators.
No, it had always been like that.
She’d always faced subtle harassments, like being given the wrong schedule for the prince, and no one ever helped. When disaster struck, people would quietly gather to watch.
Of course, she was a criminal, so it was fitting. That’s why her tragedies never earned sympathy or pity—they always devolved into mere entertainment.
Daphne met the wide-eyed stares of Amanda and Sara.
Ah, she hated it. She’d be better off as a street beggar.
Daphne needed comfort. But her mother, her only ally, was dead, and she had no friends. She curled up on a rat-eaten mattress, wrapping herself tightly in a thin blanket.
It was cold.
Colder than ever.
It hurt.
Her beaten shoulder ached terribly.
“Hn, hngh...”
Sobs leaked through her clenched teeth. These were tears from the cold and pain. Repeating that to herself, Daphne cried for the first time in ages.
She’d lost her mother at ten, entered the palace, and lived like this until seventeen.
After that day, Daphne never sought out Asherad.
* * *
Daphne bustled about, her arms full of white roses clipped by the gardener. The funeral period had ended, but the emperor mourned the empress’s death by decorating the Emperor Palace with fresh white roses every day.
Everyone knew the imperial couple hadn’t gotten along and that the mourning was fake—a show to appease her homeland, Thalassa. Replacing wilted roses with new ones daily wasn’t even amusing.
Handing the white roses to Amanda, she saw Amanda scowl.
“Do you know where you are, coming here?”
“...”
“Don’t get in His Majesty’s sight and drag me down with you—get out.”
Amanda’s words were venomous. Daphne nodded and headed outside.
Summer was approaching; the weather was hot. As she gazed at the clear blue sky, a soft voice called.
“Daphne.”
Her ears perked up, her pupils dilating then contracting—like a puppy seeing its master.
She tried not to turn, but her body betrayed her. She looked up at Asherad. He smiled gently.
A cool breeze, blue skies, verdant gardens soaking the palace grounds. Asherad fit perfectly into that beautiful imperial palace, looking fresh as if those hellish days had never happened.
“Carrying flowers?”
“...”
Not a crack marred that picture-perfect smile.
Weird. So weird!
Why wasn’t he showing any expression? Not even contempt. Did he know nothing had happened with the prince? Or because the punishment was over?
Or because it didn’t matter?
The violence she’d endured, the near-rape—none of it mattered to him?
No sense of betrayal at all?
As Daphne froze at his incomprehensible friendliness,
“Answer him already!”
The attendant Leon shouted. Daphne opened her mouth, avoided Asherad’s face, muttered “Yes,” and fled with quick steps.
He wouldn’t reprimand her for insolence, would he?
Her heart pounded. For the first time, she turned away from Asherad. She wanted to whirl around, rush to his feet, and beam at him—but she didn’t.
A stinging sense of betrayal spread through her heart. She stopped, glanced back. Asherad stood far off, motionless.
Is he looking at me?
No, right.
Daphne mocked her foolish thought and turned away. That act drove the already mad man even madder.
It was the greatest mistake seventeen-year-old Daphne ever made.