Previously
Irenia notices a red spot on Mercedes's neck that signals extreme agitation and decides the nanny's obsessive behavior is hindering Caesar's growth.
Mercedes gritted her teeth. Even as she clawed into the soil, the face of that insolent wench surged into her mind again and again. Those needlessly pretty features, the corners of her eyes that seemed nauseatingly sweet, and those red lips spewing malicious words—all of it turned her stomach.
“I know your kind all too well.”
She had surely bewitched Caesar with her pretty face. Her gentle, innocent boy had merely been deceived by her cunning. That was always the way of such women.
He had to be protected. She had to shield Caesar from this sort of corruption. And she was prepared to do whatever it took to achieve that.
“…Do you have any idea what I did?”
She muttered in self-derision, then stiffened in fright and glanced around. Fortunately, no one was there.
Mercedes slowly rose to her feet. Dirt was packed beneath her fingernails, the grimed dust blackened, and sharp grains of sand dug into her flesh with a sting.
Yet that pain was nothing. Before long, a calm smile spread across her face.
“Yes, you couldn't possibly know.”
Mercedes’s lips curled into a spiteful curve. She slowly pictured that girl’s face contorting in agony. That so-called pretty face—once it rotted away, she would be just like the rest.
“There is no need for you to know.”
A faint laugh slipped from her mouth. Peace washed over her once more, as though spring flowers had bloomed anew within her heart.
There was a noise. An irritating sound scraping near her ear. It did not take long to realize that it was the sound of her own breathing.
Even when she tried to move her fingers, her body refused to obey. Along with her ragged gasps came the sound of water. A wet, dripping sound, and hot trickles ran down her cheeks like a sticky sob drenching her whole being.
A thunderous roar shook the ground. Could that truly be thunder? Just a moment ago, the sky had been clear.
She saw a glass lampshade rolling away. Ah, so that had been the sound of it shattering.
And in that very instant, her breath caught.
An unbearable pressure suffocated her, as if a vise had clamped around her throat. Her vision blurred, enveloped in fog. Everything went dark, as though a black veil had been drawn over her head.
She felt a searing heat surge from within. It was as if she had swallowed molten lava; her entrails were melting away. She tried to cough, but it caught in her throat. And with that cough, something gushed violently out.
It was blood. Dark, crimson blood pouring forth without end.
‘Why must I marry a beast like this!’
Was it because she had rebelled from the very moment the wedding began? Was this her punishment? But she had committed no crime so terrible.
Yet seeing the groom who had appeared in the chapel was truly appalling. Those scales! Those terrifying claws! Was it conceivable that I, the only daughter of Marquis Pellegrino, should marry such a lunatic?
She was burning up from inside. The pain was unbearable. Her insides were dissolving. In the darkness, all she saw was a pool of crimson blood. She realized that she was looking upon the scene of her own death.
Who had done this to her? What wrong had she done? She tried to claw back her memories. Since yesterday, she hadn't touched a single drop of water because the corset squeezed her waist so tightly.
No, just one thing. The cannoli offered to her by that woman. She had insisted the bride must be starving, pressing the sweet confection upon her.
It had been strange from the start. Why hadn't she questioned that soft, soothing tone? Why hadn't she sensed the darkness lurking behind those gentle eyes?
She threw up something black. A scorched, charred mass poured endlessly from her mouth.
It hurts. It burns. I can't take it anymore. Please, anyone, stay beside me. I'm so lonely. The cold… it's so cold. Save me… help me…
At that moment, someone took her hand. Who? Who could it be? The warmth flowing through those fingertips brought a flicker of comfort. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were as heavy as if sealed with glue.
Memories rushed through her mind. She instinctively knew that this was what they called the flash of one's life before death.
The last thing she saw was a pair of red eyes. Those eyes were looking straight at her.
What a relief… that I am not alone. In my final moments—
“—Ren, wake up.”
I snapped my eyes open in sheer panic. When I looked around, I saw a familiar sight. It was the bedroom.
Yet I could not tell dream from reality.
Cold sweat trickled down my face; salt and grease seeped into my eyes, forcing them shut against the stinging pain, and tears promptly began to stream.
Only then did I realize I had been holding my breath. As if throwing up, I broke into a violent fit of coughing.
“Cough, cough, cough…”
My whole body trembled violently, choked wheezes escaping my throat. Am I still alive? After coughing up all that blood?
Yet, though I looked about and wiped my mouth, there was no trace of blood anywhere.
I was certain I had felt death. The pool of blood had been so vast. I could still remember how the tips of my fingers had turned to ice.
What on earth had just happened?
My hands shook uncontrollably. I blinked over and over as tears streamed down my face. Then, a warm hand gently brushed the tears away.
“Wake up.”
Still unable to believe it, I blinked again. And what came into focus was:
“Caesar?”
It was Caesar. He stared at me for a beat, then leaned in close and gathered me against his chest. Wrapped in his arms, feeling his vivid, breathing warmth, I finally realized that this was reality.
“Everything is alright.”
“What?”
He patted my back more firmly. I had always known his body ran hot, and everywhere he touched felt comforting and warm.
“Everything is fine.”
It was the exact tone I had used with him before. When I realized he was mimicking me, I couldn't help letting out a shaky laugh.
“Ha… haha…”
Tears that had long been dammed up spilled down my chin, dampening Caesar's shoulder.
“It was a dream, it seems.”
“A dream?”
My breath still hitched.
What was that bizarre dream? Was it truly just a nightmare?
“It was… a terrible nightmare.”
I shook my head violently. In the dream, I had been a newlywed bride, only to perish on the night of the wedding. An unknown affliction had scorched my innards, and I had vomited black blood. It must have been poison.
Though I had never tasted poison before, I knew instinctively that was what it was. I could still feel the lingering phantom of it in my flesh, making me shiver unbidden.
‘Why would I have such a dream?’
It had been as vivid as if I had lived it myself. It had not been some ordinary, passing fantasy. And there was something else that troubled me deeply.
‘That wedding… what was that about?’
It was the cathedral inside the Imperial Palace, the very place where my proxy wedding to Caesar had been held.
Yet in the dream, the scene had been both familiar and profoundly different. The starkest difference was that Caesar had been there in the flesh.
“Ren.”
Caesar’s voice broke through my thoughts.
“Huh?”
He reached out, tenderly brushing away the bangs clinging to my forehead, gazing at me with soft eyes.
For some reason, his gaze seemed to be pleading for something.
“Clean.”
“Huh?”
I furrowed my brow, baffled by the sudden word. But he pressed on, his tone urgent.
“Like it.”
“You like it?”
What did he like? And why had he announced ‘clean’ without any context or preface?
Just then, Caesar cradled my cheeks with both hands and slowly pulled me toward him. The faint scent of lavender drifting from his chest brushed against my nose.
“Ah!”
It was a familiar fragrance. The very soap I used every day. I quickly met Caesar’s eyes.
“Lavender!”
“Ren, you like it, right?”
“Yes, I love it.”
In that instant, my heart swelled with undeniable warmth. There was no need to ask… yet I couldn't resist.
“Did you… did you bathe all by yourself, Caesar?”
“Yes.”
He nodded with evident pride, as though he had achieved something monumental.
“Goodness, you knew how to do it on your own after all.”
Delight compelled me to bury my face back into the crook of his neck, breathing him in deeply.
And there—the fragrance was clearer, deeper. The familiar scent of lavender mingled with Caesar’s own singular scent, one unlike anything else.
He drew his face back slightly and asked, his eyes brimmed with hopeful longing:
“Was I good?”
I knew it was impossible, yet I could almost picture furry ears and a little tail popping up atop his head and behind him, twitching in eager suspense as he awaited my answer. His shining eyes said it all.
Everything about him pointed to just one thing.
“Yes, you were wonderful.”
With every fiber of his being, he was begging for something very specific—praise, gratitude, a tender word.
And so, I gave him the answer he deserved, wrapping my arms tightly around him.
“You were incredible. You did so very well.”
I could never have imagined this. Caesar… bathing all on his own? My heart swelled with such pride and joy that I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
“You did it on your very first try! Caesar, you might actually be a genius!”
Lighthearted praise slipped from my lips without a second thought.
“Then, this.”
He took my hand and guided it gently atop his head.
Good heavens… what an endearing, achingly sweet sight it was. My heart clenched tight at the sheer tenderness of it.
Everything that followed… was all because of him.
FADE OUT