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9. The hem of the Owner of the Gift swayed softly with a pure white skirt with every step she took. It was an elegant, fluttering curve that couldn't even compare to the coarse fabric of a maid's uniform.
The dress was so beautiful that she almost felt apologetic for wearing her worn-out shoes with it.
Daphne straightened her back just as her mother had taught her long ago, and tried walking with the poise of a noble lady.
Walking like this made it feel as though she had returned to the old days. The dress wasn't adorned with jewels or precious metals, but the lace attached to its edges was splendid beyond measure.
"Daphne, what's going on!"
"Hm?"
Fabian was startled at the sight of Daphne. It was because she, who always wore black, was dressed differently for once.
Shining golden hair, and a light pink dress that suited her perfectly. Her hair was still tied up tightly like a maid's, but her bright attire alone made her look like the daughter of a noble house.
"You got dressed up."
Was it because she was wearing white? Her blue eyes seemed hazy as if they might wither, yet pitiful and clear. Even though she had only changed her clothes once, Daphne possessed a beauty that couldn't be compared to anyone else.
Downcast, shy eyes, and an elegant smile. What on earth was the difference between a noble lady and that girl? Damn it all. Fabian gritted his teeth.
Daphne spoke shyly.
"Sara told me to try wearing it and go out at least once..."
"Sara?"
"Yes. Not that I have any reason to go outside anyway..."
Fabian was at a loss for words. It felt like a blow to the head.
Now that he thought about it, Daphne always made an ambiguous expression whenever he asked her on a date. He had put in extra effort thinking perhaps a date was still too early, but what if she had been forbidden from going out from the very beginning?
The servants within the castle didn't always have free access, but with prior permission, they could come and go freely.
But what about Daphne?
"Daphne, have you never gone outside even once?"
Daphne nodded. This was rather serious. Fabian seemed lost in thought. Daphne made a puzzled expression.
Daphne simply smiled bashfully. Either way, she was relieved that Fabian liked it.
It was a good thing she'd followed Sara's advice. Perhaps because he had given her a dress. Sara, who had been somewhat friendly toward Daphne, seemed to have decided to fully take her side. Sara generously offered her "friendly" advice.
She would sometimes even visit Daphne's old, dirty room, which everyone else avoided, and bring her snacks. 'It's such a pretty dress you finally received, you should wear it at least once.' 'But I'll get scolded if I wear different clothes.' 'Daphne, you're so pretty, it's such a waste. You can't even go out... The head maid is going out tomorrow, so just wear it for a little while.' '......' 'You should show the red-haired knight how pretty you look.' Did she want to show this appearance to Fabian? Honestly, she didn't know herself. Still, she had put on the dress partly because she, too, wanted to wear pretty clothes, but also because it reminded her of her very early childhood.
Back when she had no worries and believed her mother's warm embrace was the whole world.
Back when everything was like sweet, gentle sunlight.
She remembered being dressed up under her mother's hands. Daphne read fairy tale books. She grabbed onto the dress her mother was wearing. 'I want to wear pretty clothes like this too.' The clothes Daphne wore were always childish, riotous colors like a child's. Red, yellow, blue...
She wanted to wear soft-colored, flowy clothes like the ones her mother wore, rather than those harsh colors. Her mother in white sometimes looked like a fairy, sometimes like an elf guardian of the forest, and sometimes like a goddess of mercy. 'Of course I'll dress you in these when you're grown up. But you're still a child.' And with that, as her hand gently stroked her head, Daphne would fuss and fuss but then grow quiet. 'When will this cute little thing grow up?' Her mother would ask while stroking Daphne's hair. 'When will this little thing grow up?' '......' 'When you come of age, I'll make you the most beautiful dress of all.' But now Daphne had grown up, and she wore clothes her mother might have worn, yet her mother was no longer here. She wanted to go to the grave where her mother lay buried, wearing this dress.
To where her mother was...
"Daphne."
At those words, Daphne returned to reality. Fabian was looking at her with concern. Daphne forced a smile.
"Ah, sorry. I was thinking about my mother."
"Your mother?"
"My mother used to wear dresses like this often."
"......"
"She said that when I said I wanted to wear them, that I'd wear them when I grew up."
Too late, Daphne parted her lips. However much she was her beloved mother, she was the temptress who had deceived the world. The vicious mistress trying to drive out the virtuous Empress. That had been her mother's position.
"You loved your mother, didn't you."
It was a warm remark. At those words, Daphne felt as though a dull ache was being gently soothed. A surge of emotion welled up, and she forced herself to swallow it.
She felt sorry for Fabian. She was grateful to the man who had stayed by her side all winter, but while she liked Fabian, she didn't yearn for him.
But Fabian was different.
Fabian always wanted something from her. He never rushed her for an answer, but every time she saw those eyes, Daphne felt grateful and yet as if she were plunging toward the abyss.
Still, she couldn't push Fabian away. When Fabian's affection touched her, she realized how lonely she had been, how much she had craved people's affection.
If even Fabian were to turn his back on her, she wouldn't be able to endure it.
Even Ashelrad didn't give her as much affection as Fabian did. He treated her like a cute little sister, and at times even withdrew the little affection he did give.
Just then, Fabian flinched and looked somewhere.
"Fabian?"
At Daphne's question, Fabian frowned.
"Daphne, I think you should go back and change your clothes."
"Hm?"
"......"
Fabian seemed to be lost in some thought.
"You... no, never mind."
Just as Daphne, feeling unease at his expression, was about to head back—
"They suit you well. Why would you change out of them?"
"......"
At the familiar voice, Daphne flinched. Just hearing the voice made her whole body break out in goosebumps. No way. It couldn't be. When Daphne turned her head, the Emperor was standing there.
Had he come to see her on purpose? With only his two closest knights in attendance, he approached Daphne rather familiarly.
Since when had they been close? That familiarity made her shudder.
"We greet His Majesty."
Fabian knelt and bowed his head. Daphne bit her lip. She felt a strange sense of helplessness. Seeing Fabian kneeling made it all the more so.
"And you are?"
"I am Fabian Pond."
"Ah, Pond."
The Emperor raised the corner of his mouth. At those words, humiliation crept onto Fabian's face. As Daphne looked at him curiously, the Emperor continued.
"Which house are you affiliated with?"
"I serve the Crown Prince's palace."
"I see, so... the House of Count Locania, then."
The Emperor stroked his beard as he regarded Fabian. Fabian seemed troubled. Daphne fidgeted with her hands.
"Don't change your clothes. Wear them if you wish."
"......"
"I went to the trouble of carefully choosing the gift. Wouldn't it be a shame otherwise?"
A gift, he said—Daphne parted her lips. What on earth was he... Seeing Daphne's blank face, the Emperor raised the corner of his mouth. A dark, base gaze fell upon her.
"You're looking more and more like your mother. Beautiful."
Had those words ever been so terrifying? Daphne's heart pounded wildly. The Emperor strode closer. Daphne's body trembled slightly.
He hadn't touched her, but even his gaze alone was humiliating. She felt the degradation of being toyed with. Why? Why? Was it because this man had given her the dress as a gift?
And not Ashelrad?
"I'm glad they suit you. Beatrice used to wear dresses like this too."
The Emperor's gaze was not on Daphne, but on a woman of the past. It was repulsive, how he looked at someone else in another person and reminisced. The Emperor had trampled even her small, precious memories.
But even that thought was a small mercy. She knew all too well what the Emperor was seeing, and it filled her with fear. Worse still was that he had no intention of hiding those feelings right now.
Even in front of Fabian.
Seeing Daphne's face turn deathly pale, the Emperor was grinning broadly as if delighted by something.
"Your Majesty. I wondered where you had gone—what brings you here?"
A gentle woman's voice rang out. She knew the owner of that voice all too well. It was Callista. The Emperor gave a hollow cough.
"Empress, what brings you here?"
"Have you forgotten? You promised to meet my brother from Thalassa after the Council of State concluded."
"Ah, I had forgotten."
The Emperor made an embarrassed expression. There was no telling how he would get out of this.
Daphne simply kept her head bowed. That the Emperor's gaze lingered on her before slipping away, and that Callista's face had twisted upon seeing it—she noticed none of it.
The Emperor vanished, as if fleeing the scene. Daphne only wished this moment would end quickly. Just as she assumed Callista had followed the Emperor and lifted her head, stars burst before her face.
"Where do you think you're looking, raising your head!"
"......"
Her cheek burned. Daphne stared at Callista with a startled expression. She was glaring at Daphne through gritted teeth.
"Of lowly birth, and yet you commit the same temptress's tricks! And what is that dress? How dare a maid wear different clothes?!"
Daphne couldn't bring herself to speak. How could she say it was a gift from the Emperor? When Daphne remained silent, Callista spoke as if she had expected as much.
"Strip it off."
The head maid who had followed behind Callista shot a fierce glance. Daphne flinched. No, surely—surely she wouldn't, like what Olga had done to her...!
The maids rushed at Daphne. They wore expressions that said she'd been caught red-handed. Daphne tried to kneel before the Empress. She tried to beg her, but the Empress had already resolved to humiliate her.
"Your Majesty, please stop this!"
Fabian stepped forward. Callista bit her lip as she looked at Fabian. She looked him up and down.
"Who dares block my path!"
"......"
"Aren't you a knight of the Crown Prince's palace!"
"......"
"I am merely setting right the lax discipline of the imperial palace. Who would seize whom!"
Callista shouted furiously. Fabian bit his lip. Daphne closed her eyes.
Should she bite her tongue? It would be better to simply die and disappear. She was always treated like this, so she ought to be used to even this humiliation.
But to suffer this in front of Fabian, her friend... She didn't have the confidence to hold her head up and live on.
"Your Majesty, I have done wrong. Please forgive me!"
Daphne cried out pitifully. She hoped, desperately, that Callista would show her mercy.
"Strip her, now!"
At Callista's shout, the buttons of her dress were torn off. The tenderness she had felt, however briefly, vanished like a mirage, revealing the withered, rotten reality.
No one could help me.
All she could do was blatantly show the man who claimed to love her what kind of being she truly was.
She was a wretched, sordid human being who could protect neither the barest shred of dignity nor anything else. Always trampled mercilessly, always crumbling, always breaking...
"What is the meaning of this."
In that moment, yet another languid voice rang out.