Those Who Are Cherished
“P-please don’t do this, unnie. We have to stop the bleeding, at least…. P-please, just leave me behind. I’m…”
Instead of answering, I tightened my arms around her.
“What is your name?”
“Bi—Bibi…. Bibi Lutein el Castlein…”
Even in her past life, this poor child had witnessed unspeakable horrors. She had endured agonizing hardships, had even suffered horrific torture. But this life was different.
Though soaked in blood and cold sweat and rendered a wretched sight, Bibi’s clothes were woven from light, airy, and exquisite fabric.
Her hair, though thoroughly disheveled now, had clearly been styled with loving care to be both comfortable to play in and lovely to behold, and a cute little cat hairclip still dangled from the rumpled strands.
Even the shoes she wore were made of supple blue lambskin, custom-fitted to the contour of her small feet.
I could tell just by looking.
May our young lady be happy today.
May she walk on easy paths, eat delicious meals, and see only beautiful things.
There were people who looked after Bibi with such heartfelt prayers in their hearts.
Unlike me.
“You have to go back to the people who love you, Bibi.”
“…What?”
Bibi’s eyes went wide.
It did not take long for Bibi’s disappearance to come to light.
The moment the subordinate tasked with her protection rushed over, his face pale as a corpse to report that she was nowhere to be found, Raymon turned on his heel without a backward glance.
He went straight to the Emperor.
“Y-you cannot do this! Young Duke Raymon! No matter that you are the Young Duke, this is—!”
“Out of my way.”
“I cannot! This is the imperial palace, the sacred domain of His Imperial Majesty!” the Chief Chamberlain shrieked hysterically. “How dare you demand a private audience with His Majesty, and with such insolence! It was already boundless grace that Lord Lisianthus was not punished for his scandalous rampage at the Rose Palace the other day, and yet—!”
“It is you who are insolent, Chamberlain.”
Emotionless killing intent swirled within Raymon’s golden eyes.
“Do you truly believe a creature of your standing possesses the right to wag his tongue when the heir of House Castrein seeks audience with the Emperor?”
Terrified, the chamberlain collapsed to the floor. With a casual flick of Raymon’s hand, the heavy doors shattered into splinters.
Across the cavernous audience chamber, the Emperor sat upon his throne, an expression of profound irritation souring his face. Without waiting for permission to enter or another word to be spoken, Raymon marched forward in firm, measured strides, halting a mere two paces before the dais.
“Your Majesty.”
“…What in the heavens is the meaning of this, Young Duke Raymon!”
“A precious member of House Castrein has lost her way within your palace.”
“No matter the imperial grace that grants you free passage through these grounds, do you mistake my palace for your own backyard? Insolent and brazen, just like your father—!”
“Were it my ‘brazen’ father before you,” Raymon murmured, a chilling smile touching his lips. Upon a face that had been utterly devoid of expression, that smile bloomed, vivid and terrifying as a blossom forged of razor blades. “He would not have bothered waiting for Your Majesty’s answer. He would have reduced this entire palace to rubble just to pave the path for his kin.”
“……”
“It is truly a pity that my own manners fall short of his, causing Your Majesty such an inconvenience.”
The moment word had reached the Emperor that the person missing in the palace was someone dearly cherished by House Castrein, he had intended to play petty political games, dragging out the audience indefinitely. He had wanted to humiliate the Young Duke, who appeared far tamer than his terrifying father.
With someone precious trapped somewhere in the imperial grounds, Raymon wouldn't dare bare his fangs.
The Emperor meant to withhold the search order as long as possible—and even if he did dispatch guards, he planned to secure the child first, keeping her hostage under the guise of an imperial guest.
Yet Raymon crushed those petty machinations underfoot without a second thought.
“It would hardly look good if word spread outside that Your Majesty’s benevolence could not reach the edges of this vast palace, failing to locate even a single lost guest.”
“You dare… you wet-behind-the-ears whelp, how dare you threaten me—!”
“No matter how Your Majesty might wish to deny it, we are Castrein.” Raymon offered a smile that, at a cursory glance, looked exquisitely polite. “And Castrein never, under any circumstance, allows what belongs to us to be taken.”
“…Chamberlain! Chamberlain, this instant—!”
Leaving the furious Emperor behind to screech for his attendants, Raymon strode out, his face frozen cold. Just as he was about to instruct the gathering knights to comb through every inch of the imperial grounds, he narrowed his eyes at an unexpected figure.
“…Prince Adrian?”
Adrian wore an uncharacteristically anxious expression.
House Castrein was well aware that the Second Prince lived in the imperial palace holding his breath alongside the Empress, keeping a low profile. Adrian, more than anyone, knew that openly approaching a member of House Castrein within the palace would only invite trouble.
Yet here he was, fidgeting with genuine unease as he spoke.
“Uh… look, I have this terrible gut feeling. My sister, Princess Titania, is nowhere to be found either. The staff at the Rose Palace have no idea where she’s gone off to. Would it… would it be possible for you to look for her too while you search the grounds, Young Duke Raymon?”
Raymon’s face hardened terrifyingly.
Thump. Thump.
His heart hammered with an ominous dread.
This child was clever. Clever enough to grasp Titania’s current situation and how she was treated.
My head spun. Strength drained from my limbs, leaving them trembling uncontrollably. Was this the symptom of massive blood loss I had only ever read about?
I drew Bibi close once more, ignoring her feeble resistance, and clasped her small fingers tight. The demonic beast had ceased its relentless onslaught now that I stubbornly shielded Bibi with my entire body, yet it remained at a distance, watching us with predatory stillness.
Right… I have to persuade her. I have to talk some sense into her. I couldn't let this kind child slip out of my embrace, overwhelmed by guilt. I had to convince her that I was truly fine.
Because…
Even if I died…
There wasn't a single soul in this world who would grieve for me.
Whereas Bibi had so many.
“…If it's not too much trouble, I want you to pass a message to my mother. Tell her… that she can let go and rest now.”
Because that was what my mother in my past life had told me.
Back when I had reported an employer who routinely swindled part-time workers out of their wages, only for him to declare bankruptcy and flee rather than pay us back a single dime. When the other workers cursed me to my face, screaming that they had lost their jobs because of my report, that wage theft was just how things were and everything would have been fine if I had only kept my mouth shut.
Back when I had wept in raw injustice and resentment, suffocating under the agonizing doubt of whether I had truly done something wrong. My mother had told me then:
“□□-ah. Our proud daughter. No matter where you are in this world or what you do, Mom and Dad will always be on your side.”
“Don't have regrets; walk the path you believe is right. Even when wicked, inhuman people throw their weight around, even when life feels like nothing but despair. You know what I mean, don't you, □□-ah…?”
“A person still has to live like a human being.”
She had hugged me tight, telling me she loved me more than anyone in the whole world.
So I was fine.
It didn't matter that Consort Elaine and the Emperor didn't love me. Even if it wasn't in this world, there had been people who loved me unconditionally, and I was their proud daughter. I only needed to walk the path I believed to be right, just as they had taught me.
Besides, I had at least lived happily in my previous life. Bibi, on the other hand, had endured nothing but suffering, and she was only now meant to walk a path strewn with flowers.
And without Bibi, the members of House Castrein were nothing but fools who would never learn what happiness truly was. That original story had a happy ending.
Yes. If dying here saved Bibi and preserved the future of this world, it was more than a worthwhile trade. Considering the wretched, tragic fate originally in store for Titania, it was a bargain.
Thinking about it that way, perhaps the sudden awakening of my past-life memories had been the work of God, guiding me to save Bibi right here.
“Mother… she doesn't actually have an illness. She’s been secretly ingesting poison. She probably thinks I have no idea, but it was because of me… that she endured life in the imperial family this long. I think she wanted to watch over me until I came of age. Whether out of a sense of responsibility or…”
That was why I didn't resent Consort Elaine. Her entire life within this palace had been an endless agony.
She had married the Emperor for the sake of the man she loved, only for her own family to butcher him. The Emperor had turned a blind eye to the slaughter. To bear the child of the very emperor she despised, and to spend the rest of her days trapped inside this gilded cage…
She had simply stayed alive so that I wouldn't fall completely into the clutches of the Empress or Consort Cleo. Until I reached adulthood, she had watched over me. That was her final struggle. That was the very best she could offer—enduring a life worse than death amidst ceaseless torment.
It was just that Titania had been unlucky. Not every parent and child in this world could love one another. Not every child was born into blessings. Failing to love Titania was not Elaine’s sin.
Though the original ‘Titania’ raised inside the palace never understood, I, having regained the memories of my previous life, understood now.
“…So, I wanted to let Mother know that she can finally rest easy. That’s all I ask of you.”
Bibi’s face froze in utter horror.
“So it's going to be okay.”
Reflected in Bibi’s trembling eyes was my forced, strained smile—a face so deathly pale that it seemed ready to collapse at any moment.