8. What You Will Carry
Daphne, twenty-one years old, smiled bitterly as she recalled the past. How could seventeen-year-old Daphne have been so foolish?
Why had she been so elated and dejected at every word from Ashelad?
No, was it really any different even now? After Belenus's death, when she was dragged before Ashelad, who had become emperor, she hadn't resisted at all.
"His Majesty will see you."
His Majesty.
That noble Ashelad, who had always been called "Your Highness," had become an emperor worthy of the title "Your Majesty."
The emperor's attendant looked at her with displeased eyes. It was familiar. Leon, the attendant, was always like that. As Daphne followed the attendant, she regretted, and regretted again.
She should have fled into the mountains instead of timing her stay to Ashelad's return.
Why had she stayed because she wanted to see his face, only to be captured and dragged back? Because of that lingering thread of attachment, she had missed her chance at freedom.
She heard the sound of a door opening. Daphne walked toward "the emperor's chambers." She had done this before. But back then, she had gone to "the crown prince's chambers."
The emperor's chambers were naturally larger than the crown prince's. The room used by that greedy, cruel man—so desperate to ruin her life—until his death. Now, the one inside it was Ashelad.
Daphne raised her head. Outside the window, a golden moon hung suspended, and Ashelad stood bathed in its light like a golden statue.
Wearing a translucent robe, he lifted the corner of his red lips.
A creature standing with its back to the moon created by the Creator God. As he swept his black hair back, his face became even more visible.
The dim lamplight of the room illuminated his face. Deep, dark shadows fell across it.
His face was still beautiful, but the body revealed between the robe was covered in small scars. He, who had once been mocked as a young nobleman who never left the palace, had returned as the god of war and the sun—Lu, Labda.
"You came, Daphne?"
In the past, she had been dazzled by that sight. There had been moments when she felt she would go mad with joy each time his gaze fell upon her. But now, that sight was dreadful.
"Why did you summon me?"
"Why, indeed?"
A low laugh came from his mouth. He approached her slowly, then undid Daphne's neatly arranged hair.
It was strange. Men had always loved her with her hair undone.
Ashelad, and his father too.
Ashelad seemed to gently comb her hair with his fingers, but then suddenly seized her by the nape and pressed his lips against hers.
"Hhk—hhk!"
Daphne shook her head in refusal, but a soft tongue had already slipped into her mouth. For a moment, it felt as though her airway had been completely sealed. She pushed at his shoulders, but he was heavy and solid; he wouldn't be pushed away, and instead pressed his body against hers.
As she instinctively stumbled backward from his body with her eyes squeezed shut, Ashelad wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. At the enormous desire she could already feel against her stomach, Daphne flinched.
"Why?"
Ashelad pulled his lips away. His voice had already sunk low.
Air entered her mouth. Watching her take a deep breath, Ashelad traced her lips with his thumb, then slipped his finger into her mouth.
When she flinched at what she felt against her stomach, Ashelad finally seemed to realize, narrowing his eyes and smiling.
"Why? It's not as if you haven't seen it once or twice."
"......"
"It's yours."
"......"
"What you will carry."
With the hand that had touched her lips, Ashelad slowly stroked himself.
Why—why was this happening? Why, why was this man pouring out what others so desperately coveted onto her, onto her—a mere 'pet'?
"Why on earth."
"......"
"Why does Your Majesty do this to me?"
"......"
"You could welcome any number of women to be your empress, even if not me..."
"Even if not you?"
He leisurely echoed the end of Daphne's words.
"Even if not me, there are plenty of women who would want to sleep with you. Why on earth, with someone lowly like me..."
Ashelad caressed Daphne's body. After gazing at the nape of her neck for a long while with eyes flowing with savage madness and lust, Ashelad spoke.
"Do you remember, Daphne?"
"......"
"At the jousting tournament."
Daphne flinched. It was because she, too, had been recalling that exact same moment when Ashelad called for her.
"Ugh..."
At the same time, Ashelad buried his nose in the nape of her neck. Then something slick brushed against her nape. Goosebumps rose all over her. Ashelad whispered in her ear.
"That day, I stood there watching you."
"......"
"From that moment, I thought I wanted to stay by your side forever."* * *Back then, four years ago—
The shadow of death that had hung over the palace since the empress's death vanished entirely as the seasons changed.
The weather, turning into summer with lush greenery, became early autumn once more, bringing cool winds carrying a chill.
Daphne never once sought out Ashelad, and Ashelad likewise never sought out Daphne. Daphne, trying her best to forget her memories of Ashelad, struggled through each day, floundering in her unchanging despair.
Meanwhile, the imperial household ran fine without an empress. At some point, the emperor had erased every trace of the empress. The traces of sorrow vanished like a mirage.
The emperor never visited the empress's palace again, which he had rarely visited anyway. While talk of the emperor's approval was circulating, the emperor, as if he had been waiting, held a jousting tournament.
The palace workers began to grow busier. Daphne, who was in charge of cleaning and menial tasks, also had to go to the tournament grounds to help.
It was the emperor's order.
Whenever he was about to forget, the emperor would remember Daphne's existence, and he would watch how miserably she lived, how far she had fallen. It was the miserable end of one who had dared to deceive the bloodline.
Daphne had to clean the stands before the emperor.
"Clean more. Clean more!"
"......"
"You worthless thing. Even after all these years, you're still as sluggish as a grub."
Daphne did her best to pretend not to hear the emperor's shouts.
In truth, she deserved execution for this, but the emperor's purpose was to humiliate her over and over, so he did not kill her. Daphne knew that too.
"I hear the Prince of Pindus coveted you. Did you flaunt yourself like your mother did?"
"......"
"Vulgar thing, just like your mother."
"......"
It was disgusting.
Whenever the emperor passed by and encountered Daphne, he would make a show of displeasure, pick faults, and scold her.
But perhaps he was ashamed of losing his temper at a mere girl, when he wanted to torment her, he would dismiss the servants and humiliate Daphne.
"You must be skilled at coquetry, just like your mother."
The insults directed at herself she could bear, but insults directed at her mother were always hard to endure.
Daphne clenched the hand gripping the dry rag. Then the emperor rushed over and seized her by the hair. The emperor's eyes met Daphne's face.
"How old are you now?"
"Seventeen."
"You've passed the age of majority."
The twisted old man looked at her face and began to smirk, as if realizing something.
After that, for some reason, Daphne was excluded from all duties.* * *With Daphne excluded from all work, all she could do was wander the palace. The maids pointed fingers at her, but when she was in that musty room, she felt like mold herself. The moment she walked down the corridor, she heard excited voices.
"They say His Highness the Crown Prince is hurt!"
"Really?!"
Hearing the maids whispering, Daphne's eyes widened.
Why? Why Ashelad? Was it a serious wound? Daphne approached the whispering maids.
"Why His Highness?"
At Daphne's words, everyone instantly held their breath and looked at her. When she spoke to people, they all fell silent, glanced at each other, and then said,
"Why are you so curious about that?"
Ariel said, lifting the corner of her mouth. At that, everyone burst into laughter.
"If you're so curious, why don't you go ask him yourself?"
"......"
"Then again, do you think His Highness the Crown Prince would even care about you?"
At those words, Daphne could say no more and lowered her head.
"I heard a lance grazed his shoulder at the tournament. He's fine."
At the voice, Daphne turned her head. Sara said it with a gentle smile.
"Why are you telling her that!"
At Amanda's voice, Sara shook her head dismissively.
"Anyway, you're just too kind..."
The maids made sounds of exasperation.
Daphne nodded to Sara as if in thanks. Leaving the maids behind, Daphne sat in a corner behind the palace, eyes wide, lost in thought.
A lance grazed his shoulder? How much would it hurt? It wouldn't mean he couldn't use his arm again, would it? Her hands began to fidget anxiously. Her heart pounded.
She wanted to see if he was all right.
Her chest felt like it would burst with worry. She wanted to go to the crown prince's chambers right away, but she now knew her place.
She didn't even have the right to worry. Her worries, in truth, meant little to Ashelad. There were far too many people who worried about him, and her worry was worse than none at all.
And above all, she was nothing to Ashelad.
Three days passed like that.
"His Highness the Crown Prince summons you."
That day, as she was once again spending her hours thinking of Ashelad, Ashelad's attendant came. Like a puppy waiting for its master, Daphne's eyes brightened.
Daphne followed the attendant toward the crown prince's chambers.
Why had he called for her? A strange flutter rose in her. A ticklish feeling, as if her hair were standing on end. He hadn't forgotten me.
Ashelad, His Highness the Crown Prince, me.
That fact alone made Daphne feel as though she was still someone special.
As the attendant who brought Daphne withdrew, he gave her a warning.
"Do not provoke His Highness's wrath."
"......"
His wrath? Did that mean he was angry? In any case, Daphne couldn't understand. As always, she opened the door and went inside.
"You came?"
The moment she entered, a soft voice sounded. It was a quick reply, as if he had been waiting.
It was a voice so tender it brought tears to her eyes. For a moment, Daphne paused, recalling the past. When he had thrown her to the Prince of Pindus, he had used that same tender voice.
Where the servile joy and gladness had faded away, only betrayal and sorrow remained.
"Daphne."
"You called for me."
Though her name had been called, Daphne answered quietly with her head still bowed.
"Raise your head, Daphne."
Daphne raised her head. Ashelad, standing with his back to the window, faced her. His body, gleaming in the moonlight, came into view.
He had always worn immaculate, perfectly fitted clothes, but his attire had long since come undone. A shirt with its front entirely unfastened hung barely on his shoulders. Through it, his tightly wound muscles were visible.
"Come here, Daphne."
Revealing that tormentingly beautiful body, he welcomed her.