4. In the bathroom, Callista trembled violently. Listening to the rain pattering against the window, she bit her lip. She bit down so hard that her lip turned white before quickly beading with blood.
What is happening to me right now?
"Y-Your Highness, the blood......"
"Shut up!"
Callista struck her maid without hesitation, then turned back around. That's right. Asherad had chosen that woman, not her.
"How could he... How could I...!"
Even though I revealed that woman's secret for his sake, out of pity for him......!
And yet he left with her without a moment's hesitation?
This was an insult beyond measure. Callista's eyes flashed with cruelty. She felt she would never be satisfied until she repaid the humiliation she had suffered, one way or another.
"I must see His Majesty at once!"
"Oh, Your Highness!"
Her lady-in-waiting tried to stop her, but her words fell on deaf ears. Callista could think of nothing but how to get revenge on Daphne and Asherad.
Thud, thud—forgetting all dignity and decorum, she stormed into the Emperor's office. The Emperor, who had been working, welcomed his 'fiancée' warmly.
"Welcome."
She despised his aged appearance, but this man was her betrothed, someone who would willingly wield power for the sake of her honor.
Just as she had been taught and learned from her mother, Callista was well-versed in using men.
"What brings you here, Princess?"
"Your Majesty. I never imagined your son could subject me to such an insult."
She had once been laughed at for not being the king's true daughter, but she had never suffered an insult like this.
To be relegated to someone else's second choice, then outright ignored! Her teeth kept grinding. She had always tried to hide how easily she lost her reason when angered, but she had no composure left to care about that.
"Insulted? An insult? What do you mean?"
The Emperor asked leisurely. Callista did not notice the subtle mockery lurking in his eyes.
"His Highness the Crown Prince. When I saw that man getting close to that woman, I gave him a warning."
"......
That woman?"
"That woman who blasphemed against Your Majesty! The one who dared go around claiming to be your daughter!"
Callista's words sounded hollow, like shouting into the void—but she was the only one who didn't know it.
At the sudden exposure of his own disgrace, the Emperor narrowed his eyes. The wrinkles between his brows revealed his displeasure, but Callista continued talking.
"Why on earth is that woman living like vermin in the imperial palace! Since His Highness the Crown Prince seemed to know nothing, I told him her true identity, and he got angry at me and ran off after her."
"Ran after her?"
"Yes! He was angry at me, too!"
The Emperor gestured for Callista to continue. She grew even more worked up as she spoke.
"And then what did he do? No, precisely, what was the situation?"
"I told him the whole truth. That she is the daughter of that wicked woman who deceived Your Majesty! That she is receiving Your Majesty's punishment. And therefore, that he must not go near her."
"And then?"
"That lowly creature fled, and Your Majesty's son, angry at me, went after her."
"He was... angry, you say."
The Emperor let out a hollow laugh, and Callista nodded. Believing he was agreeing with her, she said in her misunderstanding:
"Yes! Even His Highness the Crown Prince must surely have lost his keen judgment. Bewitched by that woman, he must have forgotten that she is the daughter of that enchantress......"
Even though the Emperor's face had already been clouded with rage, Callista didn't notice at all.
As always, she was too preoccupied with venting her own fury and whining for someone to appease it.
"That woman—tear her apart and kill her right now. You must drive her out."
The Emperor looked at Callista with a hardened face. Callista believed without a doubt that it was rage directed at Asherad and that woman.
"Princess. You may demand anything from me."
Just as Callista's expression began to brighten, the Emperor spoke in a grim voice.
"Except for the imperial throne."
As Callista's face turned puzzled at his words, the Emperor hurled the ink bottle.
Crash—black ink splattered across the wall, followed by the sound of the bottle shattering. A few drops of black ink splashed onto Callista as well.
A chilly silence fell in an instant. Only the sound of rain echoed between Callista and the Emperor.
"I, I......"
"Both the education of my children and the treatment of that woman are my affairs to manage. Has the King of Thalassa failed to teach you which territories must not be encroached upon?"
"......"
"If you never learned, then perhaps you should learn to distinguish when to step forward and when not to."
At the Emperor's words, Callista's face turned deathly pale. She finally began to realize that this was a foreign country, without her mother or stepfather. Not everyone would indulge her whims.
"Your Majesty, that's not what I—"
"Get out!"
At the Emperor's command, Callista was thrown out without even gaining anything for her trouble.
Watching Callista leave and close the door behind her, the Emperor's face was contorted.
"If only it weren't for the saltpeter......"
The dowry brought by the Kingdom of Thalassa and the exclusive trading rights to saltpeter were far too important. Saltpeter was the raw material for gunpowder, and compared to the amount of saltpeter the Kingdom of Thalassa could produce, the amount the Empire could produce was far too small.
But his experience with Sabrina, his first consort, had taught him something. The King of Thalassa was only interested in maintaining the marriage alliance and had little concern for how she was treated. For the King of Thalassa, the priorities were keeping the Empire as an ally and purchasing cheaply the gunpowder produced in the Empire with his saltpeter.
Callista, adopted as his stepdaughter, was literally nothing more than a tool presented to him.
That foolish woman apparently still had not realized it......
The Emperor lost interest in Callista and furrowed his brow. Asherad, and Daphne. Daphne. And Asherad again.
The Emperor recalled his young and beautiful son.
He had tolerated Asherad treating her like a toy, that much was true.
It was because he hated to hear himself called an Emperor who could not continue his line that he had made Asherad the Crown Prince. That was also why he had turned a blind eye when he saw Asherad reaching for Daphne.
The Emperor, too, had wanted to trample Daphne, and watching his son trample her was its own kind of amusement.
Daphne's life, fallen into the abyss, was nothing more than a toy to him. The Emperor, his face twisted, recalled Beatrice's face.
"Beatrice."
Even in death, I long to see you again. A woman as lovely as a witch. My precious enchantress.
If Daphne had resembled that man whose identity she didn't even know, the Emperor would have crushed the girl's life mercilessly. But if the girl resembled Beatrice, well, that would be a different story.
The Emperor narrowed his eyes and licked his lips.
* * *
Something was strange.
Daphne thought so. Beyond being honored, it was strange. She couldn't understand why a warm blanket was wrapped around her body.
Asherad had always left Daphne to shiver in the cold, and she had thought that only natural. That was the kind of warmth he gave.
She had been the one to warm herself in his blazing-hot room, and she had been grateful to Asherad for the favor of bringing her into that warmth-filled room.
But why now, why had he pushed her into the bathtub? She had thought he was sending her to bathe, but he had drawn a bath and abruptly ordered her in. He had even turned his back while she undressed.
The water, mixed with bath salts, was full of white foam. Perhaps that was why it wasn't as embarrassing as she'd expected.
"Your Highness, such kindness toward me is......"
"Be quiet."
"......"
She obediently nodded and fell silent. Asherad, considerately, had pulled over a chair and sat beside her. Though soaked in the water just like her, he seemed not to feel the cold at all, gazing down at her indifferently.
Was it because he had been somewhere cold before immersing himself in warm water? His cheeks and lips were unusually red. She hugged her knees.
Awkwardly wrapping her slender body with her arms, she looked at Asherad. He was gazing at Daphne's huddled form with the same composed eyes as always.
He reached out and stroked Daphne's flushed cheek. She, who only ever wore dark and drab clothing, looked astonishingly beautiful in the pristine white bathroom with her hair let down.
Her head ached from the fragrant bath salts he had poured in at will. His slender fingers brushed over her water-dampened body.
Perhaps startled by how little flesh there was? He kneaded her gaunt shoulder blades with his hand. At that subtle touch, Daphne flinched. A strange sensation washed over her.
He withdrew his hand, rested his arm on the armrest, and looked at Daphne.
"Come here."
His pale, long fingers lifted Daphne's chin. For some reason, she felt as if she had become a mermaid captured above the sea, unable to breathe.
Daphne found herself staring at those red lips. She didn't know why. She was drawn to them beyond all reason. Was it because they were both soaked in water, alike in that? Daphne dared—she coveted those lips.
"Call me 'Orabeoni.'"
Daphne's eyes widened. With those red lips she desired more than anything at this moment, the words that came out were rather cruel ones.
"Now."
But for some reason, no voice came out. She had always obeyed his commands, but this was strange.
Why, why won't the words come out?
She used to think of him as her older brother. She had even wished, how wonderful it would be if he really were her Orabeoni.
When she didn't open her mouth, Asherad's hand entered her mouth without mercy.
When his thumb suddenly pushed in, she flustered and looked at Asherad with his thumb caught between her teeth. His thumb stirred around the inside of her mouth.
It didn't feel like torment—because Asherad, who had inserted his thumb, was in fact teasing her tongue.
"Now, say it."
"......"
"Daphne. Call me Orabeoni. Hurry."
"......"
Daphne couldn't bring herself to say it. That one word alone stuck in her throat and wouldn't come out. When she looked at him with a pleading expression, Asherad withdrew the thumb she had been biting.
"You see, Daphne."
"......"
"I cherish you like a little sister."
Was that something to be happy about, or something to be sad about? Finding herself disappointed by his words, she had to be swept up in an unbearable sense of disgust.
Becoming family is a joyful thing. Asherad had defined their relationship by saying he cherished her like a little sister, so this was something to rejoice over.
It was far better than before, when she had despaired at being nothing more than one of many nameless maids.
Asherad had once run to her when she was being humiliated. And he had smiled brightly at her then. And yet she didn't want to call that person Orabeoni...... She was alone, confused by this strange sense of resistance.
Asherad savored the resistance and confusion etched in her face.
"Daphne."
"Yes."
"Will you run away again?"
"......"
"Will you run away again, like before?"
The hand stroking her wet hair was quite tender. Soft and gentle, as if caressing something precious. Daphne shook her head slowly.
"I won't run away."
"And if you run away one more time?"
At Asherad's question, Daphne smiled at the man who was like her god.
"If I run away, then Your Highness may do as you please with me."
My life was nothing more than something worthless anyway.
Then, she felt something settle on her forehead. It was very soft and damp.
Daphne had realized it at some point. The reason she had kept living, the reason she had dragged out her worthless life, was one thing and one thing only—she had simply wanted to see this person.
Seeing it, Asherad's smiling lips hardened. He bent down. What is he going to do?—in the moment she thought this, hot lips touched her cold forehead.
"Good girl."
His whisper, as he pulled his lips away, was hoarsely cracked. He very slowly brushed the hair that had slipped loose behind her ear and stroked it.
Every nerve in her body stood on end. Looking at the man she should be calling Orabeoni, Daphne inexplicably drew her legs together. When she looked up at where he sat, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
In the wordless, uncomfortable stretch of time, Daphne warmed herself in the bathwater, thinking it had grown hot.