Chapter 92
Translator: uly
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Good Riddance
Yohannis stepped out into the corridor and spotted one of Kallista's ladies-in-waiting approaching. What could she be doing here, with the state funeral still underway? There was already more than enough to handle just attending to the visiting king and queen from Thalassa. Moreover, this lady-in-waiting had played a part in Kallista's death. She had been recruited by Asherad and helped tamper with her mistress's body.
Yohannis knew full well that Asherad had killed Kallista. After all, he had participated in altering her corpse alongside this very lady-in-waiting. The lady-in-waiting soon approached Yohannis and bowed in greeting.
He looked at her with puzzlement and asked,
"What is it?"
"I rushed here after hearing that Liter Baron had been poisoned."
The lady-in-waiting bowed her head as she spoke.
"Do you know something about it?"
As Yohannis's expression grew grave, the lady-in-waiting bowed even lower.
"Please forgive me for only speaking up now—I had forgotten until this moment. The late Empress Dowager... she was the one who handed the poison to the baron."
"What do you mean? Why on earth?"
"She gave it to him so that if he ever used poison on someone, she could use it as an excuse to eliminate him. Or perhaps step in herself to kill them and frame him...."
Yohannis lowered his gaze. The thought that suddenly crossed his mind was simply that she had died well. Even after Asherad's repeated warnings, to commit such acts—it was fortunate she had died so swiftly as a criminal.
From his father, Duke Turbul, Yohannis knew all the atrocities she had committed in the Imperial Palace. How many people had she killed just because they irked her? How many scandals had she nearly caused? If Duke Turbul hadn't held the center together, the empire would have fallen.
"And the reason she wanted him eliminated?"
"Well, that woman... she thought she could have His Imperial Majesty for herself."
Again with that. Yohannis pinched the bridge of his nose. Kallista was someone who needed to be removed, even if Asherad hadn't done it. Even if she harbored feelings for him, shouldn't she have quietly buried them for his sake? He shared not a drop of blood with her, but if branded with the infamy of a forbidden relationship, could the emperor's authority survive? What would she do if all the temples raged and excommunicated him as a beast?
He knew of Kallista's foolishness, but he hadn't realized she was quite that stupid.
"So, what about the poison?"
"Ah, yes! That poison... it should be fine."
"What?"
"It won't kill. It just brings you right to the brink of death."
Yohannis's face stiffened. Did that mean Daphne could survive? His expression brightened.
"Then she can recover naturally?"
"Yes, that's right. She'll fall ill, of course...."
"Why on earth?"
Why had Kallista given her such a poison? Why give a poison that couldn't even kill?
"Because she planned to pretend to give an antidote to the victim and save them."
"...."
"She wanted the revived victim to point to the baron as the last person they saw."
This was the first time he didn't pity a death. He had thought she died well, but now he thought it even more so. Even if Kallista had lived, she would have been an obstacle to Asherad and would have eventually trapped Daphne and killed her.
"Then, the antidote?"
"I don't think she prepared a separate one. Since the victim would survive anyway, she probably didn't bother seeking one out."
Yohannis frowned. After tormenting Daphne like that, had she never considered herself a potential target? Foolish, foolish as she was, she was truly foolish.
"How long until recovery?"
"I don't know. But I don't think it will be long. For her 'antidote' to work, the victim couldn't afford to wake up too late."
Yohannis nodded as if it made sense.
"No aftereffects?"
"I'm not sure. But since it's a poison, I can't guarantee there won't be any."
At those words, Yohannis let out a small sigh. It was fortunate that Daphne would live, but if there were aftereffects, it might be worse than death. As he thought that, he decided he needed to inform Asherad. But then another thought struck him.
"Don't tell anyone about this."
"Yes, I understand."
"Not even His Majesty."
"Pardon?"
Yohannis bent down to look at the lady-in-waiting's face.
"I'll send gold to your family. For His Majesty's sake, it's best to bury this matter."
"Yes...."
If no one spoke of it, there was no real risk of discovery anyway. And for a lady-in-waiting, there was no reason to refuse gold for her debt-ridden family.
"She might even kill me for not speaking up sooner."
Because of Kallista, the lady-in-waiting harbored deep distrust toward her superiors. Still, Yohannis of House Turbul seemed trustworthy. She nodded and headed not to the room where Daphne lay, but to where she belonged.
Yohannis watched her go, his gaze lingering.
There was no antidote anyway. If Daphne was going to live, it was better for Asherad to despair and suffer more. To Yohannis, Daphne was a bird. A caged bird.
He would rather she stay by Asherad's side, loving and loved, living happily. After all, he was on Asherad's side no matter what. He intended to make anything Asherad wanted come true. Even if it was Daphne. That's why he had advised Asherad: make a splendid cage.
If Asherad couldn't let Daphne go, he just needed to create a beautiful world and let her live there. She could live like that—but even in a beautiful world, if she hated its master, the bird would die.
Yohannis had realized that too late.
Moreover, Daphne was a person rich in emotions, and she was withering away there bit by bit.
In truth, Yohannis wasn't even in a position to advise Asherad.
He admitted it. He had neglected her. He knew her situation but hadn't thought it all that important. He believed Asherad's methods were wrong, so he had offered some help. Seeing her sparkle with vitality had pleased him. He thought that if she smiled and stayed with Asherad, they would be happy.
But Daphne had chosen to run away. When that foolish act failed, she chose death.
Yohannis occupied a high position and sometimes viewed people as tools. But Daphne was no tool or means to an end. It was foolish that he only realized it when she was on the brink of death.
He didn't hate Asherad. From childhood, he had been driven mad, twisted like that. He needed to fret desperately over losing Daphne, to realize the nature of his love. He needed to reflect on what he had done and why it had to be that way.
For one so broken, only broken regrets should remain.
Yohannis gazed with a hollow expression at the dazzlingly ornate palace corridor.
Thus, it was only right that he too should have his own regrets. Quietly, Yohannis repented.
* * *
The Empress Dowager of the Pheneios Empire had died. The people and nobles were shocked by the sudden death but accepted it readily enough. Kallista had only ever made her presence felt as Empress during her brief regency—and even then, she had no popularity, as she refused to hear of hardships.
At least if she had been kind and virtuous, there might have been some sympathy, but her temperament was foul too. How many had she humiliated? The Countess Rocania and her daughter, Baroness Erpi, Lady Cherate—most people had no fondness for her, and the nobles merely feigned grief at the death of such a tyrannical figure.
Yet among them, there was one who grieved genuinely.
"My daughter! Oh, my daughter!"
It was Kallista's mother. The Thalassa king and queen rushed over upon hearing of Kallista's death. The king was skeptical at first, but it was only natural for him to be dragged along by his beloved, shocked wife.
Kallista's mother wailed inconsolably.
Who could describe the grief of losing a daughter? She was the precious child for whom she had done everything after losing her husband young and begging for pity. No matter how tyrannical her daughter's nature became, to her, she was the most pitiable soul in the world.
A mother's lament for her lost child might have drawn sympathy. But the nobles thought: she doted on her so excessively that the daughter died first.
"Where is His Imperial Majesty? Where is the Emperor!"
The Thalassa Queen cried out in anguish. The empire's nobles stared at her, eyes wide. No matter the circumstances, how could she so rudely demand the Emperor of the Empire?
"Your Highness, please calm down. His Majesty is overcome with grief...."
A brave servant tried to intervene. But he was futilely pushed away by the queen's thrashing.
"Overcome with grief? What nonsense is that! After neglecting my daughter! He hasn't even properly attended the funeral! Shouldn't he explain this outrageous death?!"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd at the queen's words. The shrewd nobles already knew Kallista's death was suspicious.
The Emperor had only appeared on the first day and hadn't shown himself since. Someone openly voiced their suspicions.
The king deliberately didn't restrain his wife either. He planned to hold the Emperor accountable for Kallista's death and demand enormous compensation. No one could blame a mother who had lost her reason to grief.
As the queen caused a commotion, knights and servants hurried to fetch the Emperor.
Soon, the clanking of knights' armor echoed, followed by crisp, measured footsteps—the familiar sound. Passing through the green-draped funeral entrance, the Emperor appeared. The queen, who had been about to unleash more vitriol, and the nobles watching with interest froze, their expressions hardening.
The Emperor looked like he was dying.
His striking green eyes were beautiful, yet they seemed devoid of color. He was gaunt, his eyes barely open as he stared at the ground. Chapped lips, shadowed under-eyes. In his slightly raised gaze lingered an abyss without bottom.
He was a walking corpse, steeped in despair and sorrow.
Who could put that face into words?
People fell silent, at a loss.
The Emperor glanced painfully at the coffin, avoided the queen's eyes entirely, and turned away. His once vigorous, elegant steps were now feeble.
As the nobles' gazes poured onto the crumbling Emperor, the queen was stunned too. She couldn't bring herself to berate a man shrouded in such profound grief.