Chapter 18
“How dare a mere noble act so insolently toward imperial blood!”
The Emperor was in a hurry. His heart was terribly urgent. The longer the Empress remained unconscious, the more impatient he grew.
During that prolonged time, all sorts of rumors had spread, dragging up the past issues between him and the Empress once more.
This marriage had to proceed without a single flaw, allowing the Emperor to show that he was the head of a perfectly normal household.
That was why he wanted to more deeply integrate the Duke of Lüsenford into the family through his niece Kaella and publicly announce that the Empress’s son—and his own son as well—would become one.
It was incomprehensible to Pheon, but the Emperor had always been an incomprehensible being.
‘He was like that before, too.’
Pheon knew it well. Back when the Emperor had struggled with jealousy toward Pheon just to have a child with the Empress and eventually started touching other women, he had been exactly this frantic.
Desperate to prove there was nothing wrong with his fertility, illegitimate children had been born in droves.
The number had exceeded ten in a single year, and perhaps conscious of the attention, he paused for a while. But when those illegitimate children began wasting away and dying within less than a year, the Emperor sought out women in a frenzy.
Even after all that commotion, he couldn’t escape the whispers that ‘the seed was the problem.’
It was the same now. He was scrambling to pin the Empress’s collapse on every possible cause from every corner, trying to dodge accusations that the imperial family was abnormal.
The more murmurs he heard from all sides, the more the Emperor obsessively fixated on the ‘form of a normal family’ like a madman. Terrified that his wife might die, he atoned for his past sins against her in whatever self-serving way suited him.
So the moment he heard that the Duchess of Monde had dared to be rude to Kaella, he banned her from the imperial palace—ignoring the fact that she was the Empress’s closest friend and chief lady-in-waiting.
“Lüsenford and Ostein will be the pillars upholding this empire.”
The Emperor muttered like a lunatic. But that mad mind of his spun in rational, cunning ways that suited him. That was why everyone feared him.
Before his regression, Pheon had rebelled fiercely, so the Emperor had crushed him. This time, the Duchess of Monde had stood out more relatively, so he wouldn’t let her off easily.
“The two pillars must support the Crown Prince well. This is all for the Empress, Hyperion. Don’t you want Crania’s Empress to stop worrying about whether Crania is running properly or not?”
His mother wouldn’t care if Crania fell or not. But Pheon quietly answered in agreement.
“It’s a cause for celebration and an honor. I won’t forgive anyone who ruins it. Your marriage must proceed without a hitch.”
The Emperor muttered, his eyes bloodshot. If, at this point, word reached him that Kaella had refused the marriage and run away—what would happen then?
‘Ostein would be ruined.’
Kaella would have paid a far more horrific price than marrying Pheon. It was clear she’d be forced into marriage with a man of much lower status and far older age, stripped of the Ostein dukedom.
The Emperor never forgave those who damaged his face.
The scope of who he acknowledged as imperial family shifted arbitrarily whenever it suited him, but he considered any insult to those within that scope an insult to himself. Now, even Ostein—which he hadn’t previously deemed imperial—had been included in that range.
“With such a joyous occasion ahead, it’s all gone awry—tch.”
The Emperor clicked his tongue in displeasure at the Duchess of Monde.
“Marriage must match one’s status. The heart can wander elsewhere, but the blood flowing through the body must be noble.”
That tiresome talk of bloodlines again. Pheon answered with empty yeses.
“A girl who fainted in shock just from hearing about marriage, given her frail health—how hard must it be preparing for the wedding?”
“The Lady is exceedingly busy with preparations following the recent Keruzhan envoy reception, as I understand.”
But he couldn’t just brush off talk of Kaella with a simple ‘yes.’
If the best path now was to proceed with the marriage, eliminate the Emperor, secure her status, and cleanly divorce afterward, then he had to protect her in the meantime. Even so, he couldn’t stop a wry smile.
How could someone like Kaella, the noble Lady of Ostein, have such pathetic choices? He had to work to give her more options. Whether that was true atonement or mere self-satisfaction, he didn’t know.
In that sense, Pheon thought he and that mad Emperor were alike. Each sacrificed an innocent wife and atoned in their own self-serving way.
“The Lady must have been quite upset?”
“She bore it with dignity.”
Even in her final moments, imprisoned in the tower under false charges, Kaella never lost her poise. But she had died without even closing her eyes. How much resentment must have lingered in her heart?
“Well, that girl has a fine character. Calm, polite, and well-mannered. I’ll handle the Duchess of Monde, so tell her to take care of her health.”
“Please take care of Your Majesty’s health as well. You’re tending to Her Imperial Majesty the Empress and overseeing this marriage.”
“You’ve been looking after me a lot lately.”
The Emperor laughed as if amused.
“I suppose I am getting on in years.”
Pheon brushed it off nonchalantly, hiding his anxiety over finding no quiet way to call off the marriage with Kaella. Who could have foreseen the Duchess of Monde ending up like this? The Lady of Ostein’s standing was soaring endlessly.
“The Crown Prince should do the same.”
“I’m the late one. His Highness the Crown Prince will be swift, no doubt.”
“We’ll see about that. Anyway, the talk veered off—take good care of the Lady.”
Pheo answered that with all the heavy sincerity in his heart.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
*
After an audience with the Emperor, who summoned him at every turn, Pheon returned and gazed down at the box of diamonds on his desk.
These twelve diamonds, surpassing the famed Kerban series, would never be found again. The owner of such historically precious gems rightfully had to be the Duchess of Lüsenford, from whose territory Lüsenford the Kerban series had been discovered.
Too precious for their own good, he had foolishly given the three largest raw stones to the Emperor, two each to the clingy Beatrice, and funneled the rest into military funds as a foolish husband—and he had no desire to repeat that mistake.
Yet it seemed he simply didn’t understand women’s hearts and kept making blunders.
“You took the whole thing to the Lady of Ostein as is?”
Knight Renar, the sole keeper of tact among the blunt northern knights, could tell that the Duke of Lüsenford was thoroughly dejected now. Even with the Duke’s unchanging expression, Renar, who had served him closely for so long, could gauge it roughly.
“It had to be presented as finished pieces, surely…”
“That was the problem, wasn’t it?”
Pheon sighed at last. Having never properly learned refined Kline etiquette or how to treat ladies, he had erred again.
Even sending knights to tend to Kaella had been a mistake, upsetting her—and he’d done it again. Pathetic.
The only noblewomen he knew were the fussy Duchess of Monde, Beatrice who always had ulterior motives, and his mother who was dignified yet loved him unconditionally—so the delicately reared Kaella was too difficult for him.
He should have at least spoken to her before the regression. He barely knew what she liked or what kind of person she was. And yet, fearing she might take root in his heart, he had avoided her. Laughable, considering the curse binding him.
Fear meant she had already taken root in his heart, after all.
“What was that?”
“She said it was too much. That His Imperial Majesty would be displeased.”
How terrified of the Emperor must Kaella have been to say that first? Ever since the day Ostein’s Duke had nearly been assassinated by the Emperor’s hand, she had feared him deeply.
Pheon still harbored questions about that day when he had encountered her before Monster’s Garden, rushing out in her home attire without even dressing properly. She had seemed like someone who knew what would happen to her father.
Could it be…
“Ah, that’s it then. Give her finished pieces, one at a time, starting with the smallest.”
At Knight Renar’s words pulling him from his thoughts, Pheon’s gaze shifted to the smallest raw stone. Even the smallest was nearly six carats—perfect for a ring or pendant.
What had Beatrice done with hers? He didn’t know. The last he’d seen of her was right before her death. At the very least, he wanted to do something different for Kaella. Something special, more unique, newer, and more beautiful.
Even if they would part ways someday and never meet again.
“Send it back to the jeweler. As you said, start with the smallest.”
“Yes, Your Highness. What shall I tell them to make?”
No matter how much Pheon rated himself ignorant of women, he had watched from childhood what jewels his mother—whom he saw only a few times a year—wore.
Such accumulated discernment and taste couldn’t be bought with any fortune.
“A ring first. For the rest, consult the jeweler’s opinion as well. Whatever suits the Duchess of Lüsenford…”
The old title slipped out habitually again. In the countless days referring to her not as Kaella but as ‘Duchess,’ Kaella had faded bit by bit. Would she have liked being called that?
Knight Renar looked slightly bewildered at the Duke calling the not-yet-Duchess ‘Duchess.’ Our Duke must think of the Lady quite a bit more than expected.
“No—something especially suited to the Lady.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
It wouldn’t be an heirloom to pass down generations to the future Duchess of Lüsenford. It would just be assets for Kaella to take after the divorce.
He wanted her to have at least one proper thing from Lüsenford that way. It wouldn’t come close to compensating for her lost time and reputation, but he wanted to make amends, even a little.
He had to send it quickly. Which meant the Emperor needed dealing with even faster. Pheon’s mind grew more complicated.
“I’ll handle it as ordered. And Your Highness, fresh news: the Duchess of Monde has been banned from the palace for three months. It hasn’t been announced yet.”
So that was what the Emperor meant by ‘handling it.’ Pheon touched his lips with fingers that had thickened from wielding the sword, once slender and delicate.
Knight Renar pulled a thin sheet of paper from his breast pocket and placed it on Pheon’s desk. Pheon unfolded the copy of the official document drafted by the Emperor’s scribes and read it.
“…as a member of the imperial family who will soon become Duchess of Lüsenford.”
The prestige of the Lüsenford dukedom had risen sharply. Once dismissed as mere cannon fodder holding the front lines or mercenaries despite the title.
“Everyone’s trying to elevate their titles’ prestige, so isn’t it good that His Imperial Majesty has said so officially?”
The people of Lüsenford hated the Emperor yet yearned desperately for recognition. The rejected northern territories had no choice. Their pride was strong—they didn’t need outside validation—but they raged when it wasn’t given.
“It’s good.”
Pheon murmured after a long pause. He wasn’t sure if it was truly good when the Emperor could elevate it one moment and smash it down the next.
In any case, by imperial decree, the Duchess of Monde was completely barred from the palace. Three months meant she was to stay away even from the upcoming wedding of the Duke of Lüsenford and the Lady of Ostein.
“Everyone’s going to be buzzing.”
Already, the Duchess of Monde—expected to become the Duke of Lüsenford’s mother-in-law—was punished for ignoring the greeting from Kaella, who had taken Beatrice’s place. High society would pounce on it gleefully.
What delicious gossip to tear into. For the asset-less Duchess of Monde, her social face was her only lifeline—and now it was severed. A fatal blow.
If only he had regressed to when he was thirteen or fourteen, or even earlier.
Then, unburdened by the stigma with Beatrice, he might not have inflicted such humiliation on Kaella. He knew well the immense sacrifices it had taken to turn back time, yet he still felt regret.
“It’ll blow over soon.”
Knight Renar hesitated, then offered comfort.
“No need to comfort me.”
It was just fate, or their bond. Pheon was a man too lacking and flawed for Kaella, and she—noble-born yet pitifully entangled with him—was in a one-sidedly grueling connection.
“I wouldn’t presume to comfort Your Highness. I just heard somewhere that before a wedding, all sorts of rumors fly. They say if the bride sheds even a tear, she’s been sold off, and if the groom squints against the sun, it’s because the bride’s ugly—that’s marriage for you.”
Pheon couldn’t even laugh at the talk of the bride being dragged north.
“But once you have a child, all those words vanish, so they’re not worth minding—yes, that’s what I heard.”
“Who said that?”
“My grandmother.”
Even among the upper class, it was much the same. No matter what, if the marriage succeeded in producing an heir, it was deemed proper and sacred.
But it was a distant tale for Pheon. An heir? He couldn’t even protect his mother and wife as a grown man—how could he protect a child? If he couldn’t be a husband, what father could he be?
Pheon had never even considered mentioning heirs to Kaella. He simply resolved to deem the marriage a success if it quietly ended in divorce here.
But no matter how doomed the marriage, it should ruin only him—not drag the bride down too. That was why he had sought the mines early, solely for one person’s happiness.
For a wedding where only the bride needs to be beautiful, money is what’s most essential.
