TPOP 72

Chapter 72

***

Hugo asked, half-doubting.

"Surely you don't seriously intend to take that maid... as your companion?"

"There's no reason not to."

"Even though she's Hilde's whore?"

He deliberately chose the most insulting words, but Felix didn't bat an eyelid.

"If I say it's not, then it's not."

"What on earth did that maid do to Your Highness?"

What could she possibly have done to break this man so completely? He was the one who despised his own father so intensely. What difference was there between the emperor who abandoned state affairs and the people's will, utterly captivated by a street woman, and the man he was now?

At least Eisen's birth mother pretended to be a noblewoman. That servant girl, even if not a prostitute, was still just a lowly servant! And one with a major flaw at that! Hugo demanded in an agitated tone.

"If you kill everyone who knows about that girl, then what? Will you elevate her status? Do you think that will stop the gossip?"

"It won't."

Felix flatly denied it. If there were any worthless chatterboxes gossiping about Diana, he'd simply weed them out. And if the rumors still wouldn't die down, he'd just announce what she truly was. Of course, to prevent hyena-like forces from attacking the Spirit Summoner, that method should be delayed until the very last resort.

"The daughter of Depierre. Take care of that first. And while we're at it, we can make an example of Depierre for Eisen."

Neprin Depierre, in particular, was the one who blinded Diana and had a foul mouth to boot. Taking care of her once and for all would be good for Diana's safety too.

Hugo didn't seem easily convinced. But the instructions were finished; there was no point in arguing further.

As if ending the conversation, Felix picked up the documents on the table. They were papers he hadn't had time to read since suspending work that afternoon.

After a moment of silence, Hugo spoke softly.

"Do not make me regret choosing you as my nephew. I speak not as your subject, but as your uncle. As the brother of Her Majesty the late Empress."

The Duke, having delivered his blunt counsel, walked away. Felix, who hadn't even glanced in his direction, fixed his gaze solely on the documents and let out a long sigh.

The day had been unusually long.

While his lord finished reviewing the documents, Arnold stood guard before the bedroom door, not moving an inch.

Occasionally, the knight would turn his eyes to check the crack in the door. From some point onward, a faint rustling sound had been coming from beyond it. It was the sound of the woman, who had lain as if dead, rising from the bed and approaching the door.

Yet the sound of her footsteps seemed somehow strange. Considering her severely injured feet, it seemed she was crawling forward inch by inch on her hands and knees. The rustling stopped right behind the door.

He would report any suspicious sign to his lord immediately, yet no movement or sound followed. The sofa where the Duke and Crown Prince conversed was far away, and their voices weren't loud enough to carry through the thick door.

Though somewhat uneasy, the loyal guard simply remained silent at his post.

“......”

At that very moment, Diana was sniffing the faint outside air seeping through the door crack.

Her heightened sense of smell, sharper than ever, caught the myriad scents drifting in the air. The scent clinging to the knight's trouser hem and shoes, right here in front of this door…

The smell of gunpowder.

The acrid scent of ashes.

She didn't need to strain to smell it. She had already caught that burnt smell emanating from the guard knight hours ago, when she was cradled in her master's arms.

Arnold moved like Felix's right-hand man. He was one who moved solely by his master's command. There was no way that he, a direct bodyguard by title, would have been doing menial tasks like burning animal carcasses at the hunting grounds.

It was more than that, much more…

Tears brushed her pale cheeks and fell. The moment when an ominous premonition took on the color of reality and transformed into certainty was terrifying.

Diana, who had been staring blankly at some point in the air, clutched the garment she wore tightly. The moment she realized it wasn't her usual chemise but her master's robe, which was far too large for her, she threw it off. 

Despite the warm season, an unbearable chill made her body shiver violently.

No, it wasn't the cold.

This chill sweeping over her entire body was born of a rage burning blue-hot. Diana's breath grew increasingly ragged.

The hypersensitive reactions Felix had shown in the hunting grounds fell into place, puzzle pieces clicking into position one by one.

"I asked who do you belong to. Answer with your own mouth."

"Yes, engrave it, Diana. The name of the place you'll return to."

Those lips, that tongue, that burning flesh that cruelly blocked her whenever her attention strayed even slightly. 

Even his tone, aggressive for no reason.

And then, for three more days, he ignored Diana's pleas to return to the forest. Only today did he finally say a single word.

"The hunting grounds are fine, Diana."

Fine? No.

Not a single word of what he called promises was true.

Now Diana felt no trace of the spirits' presence. Scraping the cold ground, she cried out inside.

Come out if I call. Come here. Are you all still alive?

But there was no answer from the spirits. They were gone. Or driven away, or vanished…

Even though she couldn't see it, she saw the enormous inferno. Even though she couldn't feel it, she felt the heat scorching her skin.

The flames, devouring part or all of the forest, licked their crimson tongues, burning the riverbank. Fueled by the hot summer wind, the fire only grew fiercer. Only after scorching half the river's surroundings did the flames finally die down. All that remained was the charred, blackened ashes of a horribly burned forest.

The scene unfolding in her mind was too vivid. Diana, her mouth agape, her mind blank, realized this was the forest's final signal to her. It was their desperate, last cry.

Don't go, Diana!

"Ah..."

Dizziness overwhelmed her. The darkness imprisoning her spun violently.

Diana's upper body collapsed sideways. Her forehead slammed against something indistinguishable—floor or wall—and she groaned like a wounded animal.

"The hunting grounds are intact."

What on earth was she doing here?

The image of herself on the grass, wrapping her thighs around the man's waist and screaming wildly, flashed through her mind. Then came the moment she was locked  in the bedroom like a dog on a leash guarding the house, yet still comforted herself with the thought that she would be out soon.

Just a few weeks ago, this would have been unimaginable. Neither at Hilde nor at the Depierre’s mansion had she ever abandoned her existence, her personality, her resolve to live like a human being to this extent.

 When did it start? What was she expecting? What treatment did she hope for? She thought she had discarded all naive delusions when she waited endlessly in prison for a man who never came. Looking back, it was just an endless cycle of resignation and self-comfort.

If she had made it to the forest, she should have at least tried to escape somehow. She should have just run forward blindly. If she couldn't do that, she should have held onto him, stopped him from leaving her side and doing something foolish. Diana had been robbed of something by him once again.

Why am I like this... why?

Hurried footsteps echoed outside. The bedroom door burst open. Felix, discovering Diana collapsed naked at the doorway, her robe torn off, shouted something.

She didn't want to hear it. She shuddered and covered her ears. That voice, which had been enchanting despite its harsh words, now sounded no different from a demon's.

Perhaps she had been dreaming a long dream.

Enchanted by the devil's voice, imagining him as she pleased, seeking warmth in the arms that had always been cold. It felt like waking up, bruised and battered, from a stormy dream.

"What is it now, Diana?"

Let go. Don't touch me.

"Look at me. Diana, Diana?"

Don't call my name!

The clanking of metal echoed in her ears. It felt like the damp, mossy water that filled the cold prison clung to her entire body.

The pungent smell of oil, the sticky paint that ran down her face, the feel of the dense, bristly brush. The lingering, thick smoke still hung heavy in the air.

Ah, something was turning to ash.

She couldn't tell exactly what. Was it the hope of finally escaping? The excitement of meeting her lover? The shattered remnants of her faith? Or was it all of it—herself—burning away? A fire blazed in her pitch-black vision. Flames named anger consumed her mind.

"Arnold, call the doctor back. Diana. Answer me! Can't you hear me—."

Wretched man.

Cruel and arrogant. The vile tyrant who took everything from me, even myself.

Diana violently shook off the hands trying to lift her and curled into a tight ball. Inside her chest, she heard a loud bang as a door slammed shut. She locked herself away in darkness where she could see no light and hear no sound.

Because of that, Diana didn't realize there were other eyes watching her besides Felix's.