Vol. 1 - Ch. 37
Chapter 37
“...”
It was a vicious cycle.
Daphne clung to him, unable to respond when he asked. This drove Damian mad with frustration, leading to him shouting at her. Both Daphne, and the fact that he repeatedly made the same mistakes.
“Congratulations. Now you no longer have to forcefully buy gifts for a son who isn’t even related to you by blood.”
Damian’s gaze shifted to Daphne’s flat stomach.
“You’ve gained a steadfast shield for yourself, haven’t you? One to replace me—or rather, one I could never be.”
“...”
Seeing Daphne’s eyes widen in surprise, Damian asked, as if puzzled.
“Wasn’t it because I’m the heir? Weren’t you worried that after I inherited the Duchy, it would somehow disadvantage you?”
“Damian, I never thought that. This is a misunderstanding….”
“I look forward to it. Whether the child you bear will be able to take my place or not.”
“Damian!” Daphne shouted, her face pale.
He watched her trembling, bloodless hand clutching her chemise but his expression remained unchanged. How pitiable she looked, trying so hard to conceal what no longer needed to be hidden.
“Damian, I, the baby….”
It was at that moment, just as she was about to say more.
Gush.
Without warning, red blood soaked Daphne’s chemise.
Damian’s eyes followed the blood, witnessed blood dripping from her mouth.
“...”
Damian’s lips twitched slightly as Daphne’s eyes closed, and her body, having lost its balance, collapsed to the ground.
* * *
“It’s alright.”
Baroness Nuvelle sighed lightly as she rose from her seat.
“…I heard she coughed up blood a few days ago. Is she really alright?”
“The toxins are still lingering in her body. If she rests well, she won’t cough up blood anymore….”
The Baroness looked down at the patient who refused to listen. Her face was even paler than it had been a few days ago. Her frail frame remained unchanged, though the situation had clearly worsened.
“But it’s nothing serious. The poison is slowly leaving her system. Young Lord, please go and rest now. It’s late.”
When the Baroness turned, she saw Damian still standing there. Since the moment she had entered, Damian had stood motionless, watching over Daphne.
“Go rest, alright? I’ll inform Vent to attend to everything.”
Even after the Baroness left, Damian remained rooted to the spot, his feet seemingly glued to the floor. Quietly holding his breath, he focused entirely on Daphne. Her breathing was so faint and shallow, it was enough to spark anxiety.
And yet, at the very moment when he realized he had felt some relief, he straightened his bent back.
‘Medicine?’
Damian noticed a bottle of pills rolling under the bed. He picked it up. Assuming it belonged to Daphne, he was about to place it on the table when—
“Young Lord.”
At the sound of Vent knocking on the door, Damian instinctively slipped the bottle into his pocket.
“Young Lord?”
Though he regretted it, Vent’s persistent call forced him to turn and leave.
“Let’s go. I’ll accompany you to your room.”
“…No, take me to the office.”
Vent followed Damian to the office. Damian handed Vent a box containing a finely crafted magic stone-embedded sword and other items.
“Dispose of them.”
“What?” Vent’s eyes widened.
“All of this? The sword too?”
“Yes.”
“The magic stone as well?”
“Throw it all away.”
Vent gaped at Damian’s stern command.
“Young Lord, but….”
“Vent.”
Damian cut off Vent’s attempt to protest.
“This isn’t a request. It’s an order. Throw it all away.”
“…Understood.” Vent closed his mouth, silenced by Damian’s resolute tone.
“Rest well.”
Once Vent had left, Damian stood in contemplation for a moment before heading to the training grounds instead of his bedroom. He had meant to clear his mind, but found himself at that place again.
“Damian!”
The memory of that fragile body embracing him tightly was still vivid.
‘Disgusting.’
A wave of revulsion stirred inside him, and Damian quickened his pace, eager to pass the place as swiftly as possible.
In the vast training grounds, blanketed in white snow, Damian stood alone. He swung his sword. Again and again. Not in any structured form, but recklessly, letting his body move as the blade led him. Perhaps because of that, his body tired quickly.
Only after his mind was emptied of all thoughts did Damian lower his sword and take a ragged breath. Standing amidst the snow, panting, he propped himself up on his sword and rose to his feet. If he went to his room now, he was certain he could fall asleep immediately without any further thoughts.
As Damian hurried along, he suddenly noticed a small lake, shimmering in the moonlight. The water hadn’t completely frozen over. Thin sheets of ice sparkled atop the surface, and as Damian gazed at it, he pulled a locket from his pocket.
But instead of opening it, he simply stared at it for a moment. The locket held a picture of Daphne. Raising his arm, Damian held the locket high above his head.
“Phew…”
With a shallow sigh, he threw it. The thin ice broke easily with a clear splash. Ripples spread across the surface, and the locket sank, disappearing from view.
‘It’s done. That was it.’
He had completely let go of Daphne. Watching the ripples gradually subside, Damian turned away.
‘It’s done. This is enough. This would have to be enough.’