Part 2, Chapter 33
Part 2, Chapter 33
Translation: godsn
No matter what dress she wore, no matter how thickly she applied her makeup, the deep sword scar left by the rebels could never be completely concealed.
"Virna..."
As if he himself had been struck by the blade, Laju gritted his teeth.
His trembling fingers reached toward the weeping Virna's back.
"L-Lord Laju..."
Virna, overcome with emotion, lifted her head.
When even her own family wouldn't spare her a glance, she stretched her arms toward Laju—the only one who had come to her—and burst into loud, wracking sobs.
"W-what do I do now? Sob E-everyone knows... Everyone knows about this horrible scar I have..."
Laju had no time to savor this moment—the first time the daughter who had always avoided and distanced herself from him had come into his embrace.
"They'll... they'll laugh at me and mock me for the rest of my life, sob... How am I supposed to live like this? How... hic..."
It was agony to simply watch his daughter gasp for breath between sobs as if she might suffocate. His heart felt like it was being torn apart. This was his own flesh and blood—so precious that he hadn't dared to approach her, only watching from afar all this time.
Even now, when he closed his eyes, her image remained vivid. Every part of her—even her curt, brusque manner—had been endearing. The innocent, childlike girl she once was.
He couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen Virna's radiant smile.
After the failed rebellion, Virna had become sullen, quick to flare up in fits of temper at the slightest provocation.
'Virna... my precious daughter... It's all because of Medeia, that damned woman.'
Laju gnashed his teeth.
But deep down, he knew the truth.
If they were to identify the true culprit—the one who had left this indelible scar on Virna—it wasn't Medeia, but Iason.
If only he hadn't abandoned Virna among the rebels, she would never have been hurt.
But if he were to direct his blame at Iason, Laju himself could not escape the weight of that guilt.
After all, it was his actions as Iason's subordinate that had led to Virna being left alone among the rebels in the first place.
And even now, he still served under Iason.
So Laju redirected his fury toward Medeia, absolving himself of his own guilt.
And in doing so, he nurtured his hatred and loathing for Medeia.
Only then could he rationalize that he wasn't the one truly responsible for the deep scar left on his daughter.
"Don't worry, Virna..."
Laju's eyes grew bloodshot as he patted his sobbing daughter's back.
"Those who did this to you will pay. They'll live a life worse than death—neither truly dead nor truly alive. I swear it. This lord will make sure of it."
His voice was eerie, almost like a curse being cast.
Gazing at Virna's tear-streaked face, Laju made his vow.
"Sob... H-hic..."
"This lord will take care of everything. Virna... just trust me..."
That insolent woman who had inflicted such suffering upon his precious daughter—his daughter whom he cherished more than his own eyes—would receive retribution tenfold.
While Virna stormed out and Catherine hovered around the Valdina nobles, Samon found himself the sole target of the surrounding aristocrats' scornful gazes.
"How can an entire family be so shameless?"
"Samon Claudio is no different. Thanks to the Fourth Imperial Princess, he barely escaped with his life, yet when she left the Kazen Imperial Palace, he pretended not to know her."
"Even beasts know to repay a life debt, but he clung to her like a leech, only to turn ungrateful. Then again, the Fourth Princess must have been so disgusted that she left without even looking back."
Samon endured their insults, their voices not even lowered as if they didn't care if he heard.
His chin remained lifted, his expression unwavering, as if their words didn't reach him. The smile on his face even carried a hint of defiance.
But beneath his sleeves, unseen, his fists were clenched so tightly that his nails left deep marks in his palms.
"Me, shameless? How can they say that when they don't even know what kind of monster that woman was?"
Samon recalled the nightmarish married life he'd endured with the Fourth Imperial Princess.
On their way back to the Empire, everything had gone according to plan—the princess had "lost the child."
From the beginning, even the pregnancy had been a fabrication orchestrated by Laju and Samon, so the miscarriage was merely a performance that needed to conclude before they reached the Empire.
But there was one thing Samon had overlooked: the Fourth Imperial Princess Angelique was not some docile fool who could be used and discarded at their convenience.
"Do you even realize what I've lost because of this useless, dead brat? Aaah!"
She had been forced into marriage with Samon due to the "pregnancy."
Having lost both her standing in the succession debate and her father-emperor's trust, her fury was justified.
Yet Samon knew—even if she had truly borne a child, she would still have whipped him mercilessly.
Every single day was an endless cycle of cruelty.
It was enough to drive him mad.
She was careful never to strike his face, so aside from his family, no one knew he was a husband beaten like a dog day after day.
Sometimes, when the mood struck her, the Fourth Princess would wield the whip herself. When even that was too much trouble, she'd order her knights to pummel him instead.
She treated him like the sworn enemy of her life.
"You'll never hold another woman besides me for the rest of your life. But I won't so much as lift a finger for you again."
"I'll make sure you live out your days like a rotting stump—never treated as a man, never acknowledged as human."
More painful than the daily beatings was the humiliation Samon felt when his wife rolled in bed with other men right before his eyes, laughing as they pleasured her.
She even dragged his most loyal subordinate into her bedchamber—a man who had once been as devoted to him as life itself.
Angelique took revenge on Samon, who had brought her low with the false pregnancy, in a manner far more vicious than he could have imagined.
"Wasn't this one your milk-brother, raised alongside you since infancy because his mother was your wet nurse? How perfect. Then you can raise his seed as your own now."
"My lord. Who could have foreseen this day? You always scorned me for my lowborn blood, and now you'll be raising that lowborn's child as your own flesh and blood."
They say position makes the man.
With his master's authority severed and the Fourth Princess's favor shifting, the subordinate quickly forgot his place and began taunting Samon.
"My son will bear your noble surname, while I live as the princess consort in your stead. I look forward to your devoted service for the rest of your life."
What greater humiliation could there be for a prideful, arrogant man than being forced to raise another's child—and not just anyone's, but his own lowborn subordinate's?
Samon could endure no more.
'We cannot coexist under the same sky—whether she dies or I do.'
A few days later, it was the same as any other day.
A day when his subordinate attended the princess in her bedchamber.
"Kyaaah! Get this thing away from me!"
But by the next morning, the man was found dead in the Fourth Princess's bed, his eyes wide open in terror.
"Your Highness... It seems you may have overdosed on the aphrodisiac... I did warn that its toxicity was severe enough to cause sudden death overnight."
"Damn it all, I drank too much—I can't remember anything..."
The royal physician didn't know.
That Samon had secretly tampered with his wife's aphrodisiac and wine.
He slipped smoothly out of suspicion.
And while his wife scrambled to cover up the subordinate's death, Samon quietly spread the rumors himself.
"The debauched Fourth Princess has started killing people now!"
Though her dalliances with servants were already an open secret, their deaths were another matter entirely—and the rumors spread like wildfire.
"Angelique! Just how far do you intend to test Our patience?!"
At Emperor Perdiccas II's rebuke, the Fourth Princess sprang up like a coiled spring.
Already fallen from her father's favor and barely tolerated, the changed attitudes of her siblings and the nobility had worn her down.
Now, she had nothing left to fear. Not even if it was her own father.