Chapter 42
Ridiculous as it was, he had to admit it. Even at this age, he had missed his mother's voice and the affection it held. Since awakening, memories of his mother visited him unusually often. Suddenly, without warning. There must be something wrong with his head. Daniel turned his gaze to the window where darkness had deeply settled. Not wanting to recall anything more, he closed his eyes.
"No. Pretend you didn't hear that."
It was true he had asked her to treat him as kindly as possible. But he hadn't expected her to call his name so familiarly. Nor that the name would rummage through his memories so wildly. That must be why his mind was in such chaotic disarray. Because he had faced the unexpected without preparing a response. Just that, he tried to convince himself to calm down. But behind her light, quiet footsteps. The moment he felt her somewhat ragged, fragile breath brushing his jawline on the spring breeze, all efforts became futile.
"Are you alright? Your... no, Da... Daniel."
Frida hesitantly called his name. Just as she hadn't questioned why when she heard his absurd request that morning to treat him as kindly as possible. Did this woman even understand why he had made such a request? With the Boild Baron arriving, it was only a matter of time before Munheim Castle's every detail reached the Dowager Empress. He found it bothersome if word got back to the imperial palace that the two of them were on distant terms. The Dowager Empress was constantly prying into his surroundings, searching for some woman he had hidden away. Whether he was a bastard or not, she fretted that he might produce a child before Emperor Leopold. He thought that news of him getting along well with a woman known not to live long might ease the watchful eyes. It was a thoroughly selfish request, made solely for his own comfort. Yet why did she comply without complaint? His mother came to mind, who until her death—entangled in something her son had deliberately done—had worried only about Daniel. Foolishly kind to a fault. His head... throbbed. His heart ached as if burning in fire. Slowly opening his eyes to the unbearable pain, his vision filled with Frida. She cautiously gauged his expression and asked.
"What's wrong, Daniel? Are you hurt somewhere?"
"...Yes."
A wind that wasn't even cold sliced sharply across his skin.
"It hurts."
The cries of mountain beasts drifting over from the window felt like they were tearing into his throat.
"Survive, Daniel. Surviving is what's important."
If he ever met his mother in heaven, even later, he wanted to ask. Why, what was so important about it? What meaning was there in forcing himself to live on like this? Did she know that he was the one who killed her? As if the lives he had taken numbered only his one mother. At night, the wails of those who had perished by his sword crushed his entire body. Their pleas for mercy, their curses against him, filled his head without gap.
"Please save my mother, my lady. I was wrong. Please forgive me just once."
The pitiful fingers of his own hand, desperately clutching at the hem of the Duchess's skirt in a last burst of courage, overlaid that memory.
"Look closely, Daniel. This is what happens when you covet what is not yours. The countless lives slain by your lowly, ignorant greed."
When corpses too numerous for young eyes to take in piled atop that... His head felt like it would split. No, he wished it would shatter. So nothing came to mind, so he could forget it all. So this damned guilt could no longer strangle him.
"It hurts so much."
Please. Let me breathe at least.
"So."
I'm dying here. Please leave me alone. Please.
"Please return to your room."
Daniel turned his back. He didn't want to hear or see anything more. Especially not to let her see this frail, crumbling self so easily.
"If you have something to say, tomorrow..."
"Don't worry, Daniel."
A warm hand stroked his back.
"A good night's sleep, and you'll feel better."
The soft arms wrapping around his waist from behind slowly drained the tension from Daniel's bristling body.
"Tonight... I'll stay by your side."
*** Creak. In the deep night when all were asleep, someone quietly opened the kitchen door, muffling their footsteps.
"Goodness, you startled me."
The one surprised by the black shadow cast on the wall was Dominic. The shadow's owner was Muriel, sitting alone at the table enjoying her drink.
"What brings you here at this hour? Where's Adel?"
Patting his startled chest, Dominic deftly rummaged through the shelves, gathering food onto a plate.
"She went to bed first. Tense all day preparing meals for the honored guests—says her body feels numb. Exhausted to death, she said."
"I wanted to taste Adel's special dishes too. Shame."
Dominic, who had set the heaping plate across from Muriel, suddenly seemed to remember something and returned to the kitchen. He muttered as he rummaged through shelves and corners.
"Adel definitely said she bought some expensive wine."
"See the oak barrel in the farthest corner from the hearth?"
"That one?"
"Yes. That. Fill it up full. Plenty left."
Dominic brought it brimming, the wine sloshing visibly, and carefully set the glass on the table. Muriel, munching Adel's special sausage, quickly poured nearly half into her own glass. Dominic grumbled at the wine spilling on the table and yanked his glass away.
"You've had your fill already, haven't you, Lady Rosivalt?"
"Drink is never enough, no matter how much you have. By the way, where were you hiding all afternoon, only showing up now?"
"Mm. This wine is really good."
Wiping the red stain from his lips with the back of his hand, Dominic slathered jam thickly on bread and shoved it into his mouth.
"Hiding? I was checking the loggers' quarters, inspecting equipment. Pretty busy, in my own way."
"Wolf and Owl seemed quite busy."
"Boild Baron arrived, so. To monitor the rats following him, we have to stay on our toes."
Muriel rested her chin, waiting for Dominic to gulp down his glass. This man's inner thoughts were unknowable even when known. Thinking of how he deceived the young lady for three years, he seemed to have a cold heart as rumored, making her fondness plummet. Yet seeing him work so diligently for the young lady made him reliable too. He seemed like a simpleton living without worldly cares, yet sometimes sharper than a honed blade. Gazing at the complex man hard to define clearly, Muriel posed a question.
"Why does the young master of Updyke cling to His Grace like that? Daniel, Daniel—his name was wearing thin."
"It's a secret."
"I have a recent secret about you too."
Dominic, meeting Muriel's leering, twitching brows, grumbled softly and swallowed his chewed food.
"Feels like my nose is thoroughly pierced."
"Who said anything? Don't want to tell? No need."
Normally, Dominic would snap, who dares threaten me, go tattle to the Duchess. But now, he couldn't bring himself to. Remain a good man to the Duchess, or become a betrayer? Setting down his bread, Dominic decided quickly. He couldn't abandon being the good guy just to keep that wastrel Heinrich's secret.
"You know the Battle of Kalle?"
"Of course. The battle where the Updyke Margrave repelled the Solon Tribe's invasion—over five times their five hundred troops."
"The imperial family doesn't know, but we were there too, at the battle site. Daniel and about twenty mercenaries."
"His Grace went to a battle on the eastern border?"
The 'Battle of Kalle,' called the Updyke Margrave's greatest feat. The year after Leopold Bolshtak II ascended, so about six years ago? Hearing this for the first time, Muriel leaned forward over the table.
"You know there was the Hartzfeld Duke rebellion the year Bolshtak II ascended."
"Yes. How many from the Rosivalt family died there."
"That rebellion had something fishy about it."
Even recalling it now felt uneasy, as they hadn't pinned down the tail properly. Dominic scratched his chin with his fingertips, deep in thought about that day. He didn't even realize he wasn't referring to Daniel as his lord.
"Daniel always says, war is money. Wars end not by severing the enemy's general's head, but their purse strings."
If revealing another side of the real Daniel unknown to people, that bastard hates fighting with a passion. Hates it to death, so he crushes any spark of war at the outset to satisfy himself. The old fox of Shendal Castle boasts his political power made his son emperor, but far from it. Daniel's merit in uprooting potential rebels' roots, preventing any sprouts, was over half. Who else's credit was it that the empire stayed quiet during those three years he slept?
"The Hartzfeld Duke rebellion didn't show clear money trails. So we took minimal men and secretly toured the eastern regions."
"And ended up helping the Margrave?"
"Help? We're not the type to help others. Planned to check and leave right away. No good getting involved. But unluckily, those guys showed up right in front of us... Sigh."
Dominic downed his wine, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. That day's events could only be called bad luck. How vast the eastern lands, yet bumping right into them there.
"That fool Heinrich Updyke went on recon and got captured by the Solon Tribe. We happened to pass nearby and saw him. People's hearts are like that. Wouldn't ignore if unseen, but having seen, how to just go? Especially dangling from a tree."
Whether fate willed it, they razed the surroundings saving Heinrich and clashed with the Solon Tribe's supply unit. About thirty men? Dealt with them and burned supplies in the blink of an eye. To the Updyke Margrave, paralyzed with his sole heir captured, it was heaven-sent news. The moment he learned his son was safe, he swept through and ended the battle.
"Saved my son, wiped out the enemy supply unit to buy time. To the Margrave, we're benefactors. That stiff guy even thanked us properly."
"Why doesn't anyone know this story?"
"Too troublesome if known. Dowager Empress would dig. Starting from why go there, prying endlessly. Sneaking around the border without imperial permission. Could invite needless suspicion."
The Margrave too had no gain in it being known he didn't do it alone, so by mutual agreement, it was buried.
"He's been like that since then. Nobles know no shame. Heir to the Margrave house calling a bastard noble hero and friend—embarrassing."
Muriel nodded agreement at 'embarrassing.' From when he said he'd die soon or whatever to Frida, Heinrich was completely out of her sight. Dominic, raising his glass, suddenly slammed it down hard on the table and shouted.
"Speaking of, that mad flower deer flapped his damn mouth in front of our Duchess. True?"
"Ah... that?"
Muriel snickered, then shrugged giggling.
"Don't worry. Gave him a proper smackdown. Our young lady may look it, but has a personality that doesn't just take it."
"The Duchess herself shut him down? Tell me details."
This time, Dominic leaned forward over the table. *** At dawn's first light, Heinrich burst into Marian Hall. Crusty eyes, hair matted and disheveled. Walking the corridor, his attire was neat, but his overall appearance grimy.
"How do they manage this castle? Rang the bell ages ago—why's no one coming? Damn it."
He didn't know the call bell for the Boild Baron's room below worked fine. Nor that rumors of his rude words to Frida had spread, making servants deliberately ignore his summons. Striding past the corridor and up the stairs, Heinrich headed to Daniel's bedroom, where they'd dined together yesterday evening.
"This doesn't sit right either. No proper reception room in this huge castle for guests? Isn't that woman draining our Daniel's spine for medicine costs?"
Grumbling, Heinrich shoved the door open without knocking.
"Daniel! What the hell is that castle mistress doing..."
Entering the room, sunlight flooded his eyes. Heinrich hurriedly raised a hand to block the pouring light. But even after his vision cleared, his hand stayed frozen there, rigid. In the spot where the morning sun blazed through the parted window. Amid the grand bed with sedate brown curtains embroidered with golden leaves drawn back. There lay Heinrich's hero, Daniel Rihardt. With his snow-white wife beside him.
