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8. Friend
"So you bought her the dollhouse?"
"I emptied my entire paycheck for it, that's what."
Daphne burst out laughing at Fabian's words. Fabian and Daphne chattered like this from time to time.
Looking at poor Fabian, who had emptied his paycheck for his younger sister Merbel, she gave a warm smile.
"You're a good big brother."
"I'm just a foolish brother who spoils his sister with her whims."
Fabian said with a sigh.
"How's your mother?"
"Mother? She wouldn't stop going on about how a new line of clothes came out."
Fabian lived with his mother and younger sister without a father. According to Fabian, his mother was a bit immature, but her cooking was absolutely phenomenal.
His sister was the same. Just like their mother, she asked him to buy her dolls every single day, and he sighed, saying his back was about to give out.
And yet, the smile never left Fabian's face whenever he talked about his family.
Fabian loved his family dearly. His friends were his friends, but it was because he had a family that he knew how to give love.
"Oh, right. A gift."
"A gift?"
When Fabian held out his hand as if to say, "Give it here," she cautiously held out her palm.
It was a small brooch.
"I bought it because it looks like your eyes."
The sapphire-blue gem was striking. Daphne held it up against the sky. The vivid blue was truly radiant.
Daphne held it very carefully. Can I really have this? Is it truly alright for me to have it?
When she looked at Fabian with a flushed face, he cleared his throat.
"It's my first time with something like this."
Fabian, who had been about to tease her, asked with a puzzled expression.
"Don't tell me you've never received a gift like this before?"
Daphne nodded. Except for when her mother was alive, she had never once received a gift. Unless you counted torment disguised as gifts.
"Even from His Highness the Crown Prince, so grand and mighty?"
"Giving gifts isn't something that's owed, after all."
At Daphne's words, Fabian seemed at a loss for words for a moment.
"You're telling me you didn't even receive gifts at your coming-of-age ceremony?"
People give gifts at coming-of-age ceremonies? Daphne looked puzzled. Fabian let out a sigh.
"Daphne."
"Yes?"
"I'll take good care of you."
"No, I'll take good care of you."
Daphne smiled brightly at the brooch. She held it up at another angle. Honestly, Fabian. Are my eyes really that pretty?
"Thank you."
She pinned the brooch to her chest. A mirror would be nice. When she seemed so happy she didn't know what to do, Fabian suddenly covered his mouth and let out a strangled sound.
"Fabian?"
"Sorry. You're just too lovely. Give me a moment."
Daphne made a puzzled face. What on earth is wrong with him?
"Thank you so much, Fabian. Really."
"......."
"I'll repay this kindness."
"Then when you get your paycheck, you'll buy me something tasty, right?"
Color returned to Fabian's face. Paycheck? Daphne made a bewildered expression. It was Fabian who found it strange instead.
"You—do you get a paycheck?"
Daphne shook her head. Wasn't the concept of a paycheck something that belonged to maids? Hearing this, Fabian's face changed.
"No matter that you're a criminal's daughter, this is straight-up slavery."
"......."
"Isn't this the system of a backward country? Ha. Honestly, I don't know what to do with you."
Fabian let out a deep sigh. Daphne always grew anxious whenever Fabian did this.
Why? Is this strange? In any case, she talked with Fabian, received gifts, and was getting by, more or less.
I'm a criminal's daughter. Don't I have no right to wish for better than this? A paycheck, of all things.
Fabian always spoke to her as if she were an ordinary person. He lamented that she wasn't treated properly. Fabian always pointed out the injustices done to her. Sometimes, that was what made Fabian uncomfortable to her.
Because he seemed like someone from a different world than hers.
* * *
When spring came and the Emperor remarried, the imperial palace grew busy with a grand ceremony.
Was that why? Or was it for another reason—Ashelrad once again kept Daphne at a distance, and Daphne was left neglected.
There wasn't even the wariness from Olga, Ashelrad's chambermaid.
If something had changed, it was that she encountered the Emperor more often. When Calista became Empress, Daphne, who had previously had no duties, found herself assigned to work in the Emperor's palace at some point.
The work was always easy. Picking flowers to decorate vases. That was all. But every time, Daphne ran into the Emperor.
The Emperor hardly ever spoke to Daphne. He merely ran his indecipherable, filthy gaze over her. The Emperor's gaze had landed on the frayed hem of her worn maid's dress.
"Your clothes are quite worn."
The Emperor's murmuring voice drifted past as if in passing. Daphne squeezed her eyes shut and let the words wash over her. Lately, he kept making these little remarks, and they grated on her ears.
"What, is the work hard?"
Why would the very man who made her this way bother asking, pretending to be concerned?
Daphne still could not forget the Emperor's madness—the day he slaughtered every last servant in the house where she had lived. The sight of that once-generous man trampling over blood-soaked corpses, struggling and raving, would remain an eternal nightmare.
"It isn't hard."
"If it's hard, tell me. I'll let you rest again."
As if he were being kind. But Daphne shook her head. It was because, working here, she could see Ashelrad.
There were times she suffered the misfortune of seeing the Emperor, but there were also times she was granted the fortune of seeing Ashelrad. Every time she came across Ashelrad, her heart trembled at some new facet of him.
Ashelrad usually walked about with knights and other retainers, discussing one thing or another. When talking with nobles, he always wore a smile on his lips as ever, but when he was with his most trusted circle, he would sometimes show a terrifyingly cold expression.
"Daphne."
Sometimes he was alone, and every time, he called her name tenderly. Each time, she gave a bright smile.
"Your Highness!"
"You seem to be in a good mood today."
Daphne felt like whimpering like a puppy seeing its master after a long time. With no way to express that longing, Daphne didn't know what to do.
Meeting you.
I'm happy to meet you.
Daphne wanted to say those words, but she couldn't bring herself to.
Was it because of spring? Ashelrad had begun wearing lighter colors rather than the heavy dark tones of his clothes.
Today he wore a pale sky-blue that suited spring well. It suited him so wonderfully that her heart pounded once again. Ashelrad suited every season.
The warm breeze of spring, where life was budding, brushed his forehead. Daphne had expected Ashelrad to come find her at night, asking her to sing him a lullaby, or to read him a book.
But... .
"Take care of yourself."
Ashelrad turned away after saying those meaningful words, as if they were a farewell. Daphne watched him with a blank expression.
He said he thought of her like a younger sister. He said he wanted her by his side, so why wouldn't Ashelrad call for her? Was she simply not needed?
Had he grown tired of her by now?
Or if not that—was he, in truth, newly disgusted that she was that enchantress's daughter? The words caught in her throat were many, but she could say nothing.
Ashelrad's words were so very short. He hadn't even noticed the fraying of her sleeves, which even the Emperor had seen. I am happy just because you exist—do you not know that?
Her heart was gradually ripening, and yet the feelings she held toward Ashelrad seemed to be crumbling, bit by bit.
Daphne gazed at Ashelrad's retreating figure.
He was someone far too large for her, the enchantress's daughter, to hold in her heart. She closed her eyes in anguish.
* * *
"Wow, Daphne. It's so pretty."
At Sara's words, Daphne stared blankly at the clothes that had been delivered to her. Even at a glance, the dress that had arrived was an expensive one.
Who sent this?
Daphne looked at the clothes. Could it be that Ashelrad had sent them? Was that what "take care of yourself" had meant?
She couldn't tell. After seeing nothing but dull colors for so long, the sight of beautiful colors filled her with elation.
It couldn't even compare to the black maid's dress she always wore. It was so extravagant that for a moment she mistook it for a ball gown, but coming to her senses, she saw it was everyday wear.
It was a dress far too extravagant for a mere maid to receive. Receiving pretty clothes felt wonderful. But not knowing who had sent them left her uneasy.
And there were far too many. Seven in total. Daphne, who was meant to wear only maid's uniforms, had no need of them.
Sara saw the buttercup-yellow dress and smiled brightly in admiration. Watching her, Daphne said impulsively.
"Do you want one?"
At Daphne's words, Sara beamed. In her gentle eyes, a greed she couldn't hide was visible.
"Thank you!"
Sara was genuinely delighted. At the sight, Daphne gave a faint smile in return. The expressions of those who had come to gawk at Daphne's room grew peculiar. There was the usual hostility, but something was different.
Gazes of envy and hesitation flickered across one another's eyes. She had simply given away one of the clothes she'd received as gifts. And yet the looks directed at her had changed. After a very long time, Daphne remembered what those looks were.
They were the looks that had been directed at her mother, Beatrice. I despise that woman. But if I stay on that woman's good side, perhaps I can get something out of it.
At those expressions that didn't bother to hide it, Daphne's heart pounded fiercely.
"Daphne, thank you so much."
There was sincerity in Sara's eyes. Daphne decided that was enough for her.
And so Sara became Daphne's blatant "friend."