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Chapter : 11
Your Short Lifeline
Benjamin grabbed Pyotr by the throat and leaned in.
“If you don’t know your place and climb a tree you have no business climbing, the first thing that snaps is your neck. Whether that means your rise in life gets cut off or your life itself ends—I can’t really say.”
Benjamin smiled smoothly as he spoke.
“I–I’m sorry. I misspoke.”
Pyotr broke into a cold sweat, flustered.
“…Your Highness?”
“Well, if it’s just a mistake, I suppose I should give you a chance to correct it. My fiancée is watching, after all. If I showed something ugly for no reason, I might earn her dislike.”
With that gentle expression, Benjamin almost looked as if he were offering kind advice.
But anyone—even a fool—could tell from the dissonance in his face.
This was no advice.
“If you want to cling to even that short little thread of your life, you’d better keep that flapping tongue of yours in check. If it gets any longer, your lifespan will get even shorter.”
“H–hic!”
“I’m joking. Just joking. Joke around twice and you might stop breathing.”
Benjamin straightened his face again. Neat and composed, without the slightest disorder.
From the shirt buttoned up to his neck to the crisply pressed jacket—
He maintained an upright posture, utterly unruffled.
“I—I am this child’s father!”
“Are you?”
Benjamin glanced at Charlof.
“Didn’t you say you disowned her?”
“Even so, I’m still her father!”
“Sure. I get it. But what does that change?”
Benjamin smiled behind his hand.
“Your Highness! I just—!”
“Just?”
“I’m saying this is all very sudden.”
“Which part?”
“I only just heard about my daughter’s engagement!”
Benjamin trailed off, savoring Pyotr’s words. Pyotr fidgeted, sweating coldly.
“Did His Majesty the Emperor approve this engagement?”
“Oh, there was no need to seek His Majesty’s approval. The documents already bear the imperial seal, so don’t worry.”
“W–what is this?!”
“Well, since the senile Emperor has taken to his sickbed…”
Benjamin lightly brushed the bridge of her nose with his fingertip.
“Even if the procedure was simplified, please understand.”
When Charlof scrunched her nose, Benjamin smiled with narrowed eyes.
“I’m wearing myself out for this, you know.”
Pyotr swallowed hard.
Was that child always like that?
Red. Everything was red.
A gloomy aura wrapped around her, and a faint poison gleamed in her eyes.
Why?
What was that venom?
Pyotr held his breath at the unfamiliar sight of his daughter.
She was starting to resemble her dead mother.
When that dark gaze swept over him, he even felt a chill.
“I raised you for nineteen years!”
At some point, Pyotr stopped breathing.
“And now you… What are you?”
His mind went blank.
Crimson flooded his vision.
Standing with the setting sky at her back, she was maddeningly red.
Pyotr staggered backward.
Behind the red hue, black darkness glared at him.
“I’m just Charlof.”
Benjamin wrapped an arm around Charlof’s shoulders and whispered.
“Charle.”
Then he asked gently,
“Shall we go home?”
Charlof turned away.
“Why does someone about to be engaged look like that?”
Cesar asked Aster quietly.
“How would I know?”
“Then why do you look so displeased?”
“Just look at her. It’s like her fate resembles Cosette’s—never living easily for a single moment.”
Mother and daughter alike had harsh destinies.
As Aster clicked her tongue, Cesar folded his arms and gazed at Charlof standing alone in the garden.
“She looks upright.”
“Huh?”
“I thought she’d look a bit more fragile.”
Her solitary back looked firm.
“Leave her be.”
She’s a child who stands firm on her own. Don’t take her will lightly.
Cesar patted Aster’s shoulder and walked away.
Left alone, Aster continued to watch Charlof.
Her dark red hair curled softly.
“…It’s hard.”
Aster shook her head.
Charlof enjoyed the quiet stillness.
“I’m holding on. I really am.”
Her murmured words drifted into the air.
“But I don’t know if I’m doing well.”
I wish someone would tell me I’m doing well.
“I know I shouldn’t act spoiled.”
Things will only get busier from now on.
Charlof stood before her biological mother’s grave.
She took out a bottle of wine hidden in her sleeve and clicked her tongue.
“It doesn’t have to be formal. Alcohol is just alcohol.”
She pulled the cork and took a swig.
She would forget procedures and formalities. Even courtesy, she set aside.
“I’ll give them the gift of their graves.”
Charlof placed the remaining wine before her mother’s headstone.
“The night wind is cold.”
She brushed the stone with her palm, then clenched her fist. A chill gathered in her grasp.
They said her maternal grandfather and uncle maintained the graves—
The stone was spotless, not a speck of dust on it.
“Isn’t it scary, standing alone at a grave this late at night?”
Benjamin approached her.
“She’s my mother who gave birth to me. What’s there to be afraid of?
If I can trace even the slightest remnant of the dead like this, that’s enough.”
In her past life, even this grave and these traces had not been granted to her.
“Didn’t you return to the palace? Why are you here?”
“I came to comfort you if you were feeling unsettled before the engagement ceremony.”
“Is that a joke?”
“You could stand to be a little scared.”
Benjamin laughed idly. Charlof poured the wine down her throat.
Mom… are you at peace after death?
The dead are not here.
Now it’s time to lay them beneath the earth and say goodbye.
“You’re chugging from a bottle in front of your own mother’s grave?”
“You taught me that, Benjamin.”
“That’s right. Alcohol is just alcohol.”
Benjamin took the bottle and checked the label.
“Did you raid Cesar Windsor’s fridge?”
“You can tell just from the label?”
“I’ve stolen a few myself. Once Cesar glared at me and put a lock on it.”
“Oh dear. You must’ve been upset.”
“What can you do? Then you break the lock and drink anyway.
It’s not like I’ve only acted like a mad butcher for a day or two.”
Benjamin chuckled as if recalling old memories.
Was it nostalgia?
Benjamin stood behind Charlof.
“It splashed on your hand.”
He gently brushed the back of her hand.
His fingertips skimmed her pale skin—
Rough and solid, the hands of someone who grips a sword.
“Even if we skipped most of the engagement procedures, there’s at least one thing we should do properly.”
He laid his hand over hers.
“W–what…?”
Only then did Benjamin take something out from his chest. It looked like a jewel box.
“Hold still. I’m putting the lock on.”
It was a black box tied with a gray ribbon.
When he tugged the ribbon, it fell away limply.
The box was small enough to fit in her palm.
When he opened it, a small ring appeared.
A platinum ring densely set with diamonds.
He slipped it onto her slender ring finger.
“Is the engagement ceremony tomorrow?”
Holding her delicate hand, Benjamin murmured softly.
“Carve your presence into their minds.”
His eyes, fixed on Charlof, grew sticky and dark.
The engagement ceremony was held inside the imperial palace.
With the sick Emperor confined to his bed, the royal family skipped most procedures and instead held a celebratory banquet.
“So His Highness the Crown Prince is entering an engagement.”
“At his age, it’s about time. If His Majesty weren’t lying ill with delirium, he’d have taken a Crown Princess long ago.”
The nobles smiled outwardly, but harbored different thoughts within.
His father is bedridden with delirium, and he doesn’t even blink!
As the old Emperor fell ill, the power struggles within the royal family were being reshuffled.
Once this struggle ended, pulling down the old Emperor would be easy.
“The Windsors are arriving.”
Benjamin smiled brightly.
“Charle.”
It was someone’s pet name.
The banquet hall doors opened, and figures walked in.
Dark red hair dominated the view.
The head of House Windsor, the eldest heir, and the second son—all entered together.
And behind them walked an unfamiliar woman.
Unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar.
Her dark red hair rippled like waves past her waist.
Black and red—murky, yet endlessly deep.
Charlof stepped forward.
Everything was red.
The woman had painted herself in red.
The nobles whispered in unison.
“Is that the young lady? How intense.”
The banquet began.
“She was originally the daughter of Marquis Tuteur, wasn’t she?”
“Shh, that was ages ago. She was disowned.”
To be adopted into House Windsor and engaged to the Crown Prince at once—
This time, the nobles’ gazes all turned elsewhere.
“Marquis Tuteur must be in quite a shock.”
Pyotr stood frozen, champagne glass in hand.
Charlof glanced at her father, then lost interest.
Don’t hover around my path.
As Charlof stepped forward, the way opened.
“She’s like my reverse scale.”
Leandro showed emotion, rarely.
He kept his voice low so outsiders wouldn’t hear, but its weight was heavy.
Leandro placed Charlof’s hand into Benjamin’s.
“Charle. This way.”
The first dance began.
Simple music flowed, and their entrance marked the start of the banquet.
The hem of her dress fluttered splendidly.
Her dark red hair and dress were dazzling, while her pale skin looked almost ghostly.
When the dress swayed, its hem flicked up to reveal ornate patterns.
The dance soon ended.
Benjamin wrapped an arm around her waist and whispered.
“No chugging from bottles tonight.”
Charlof lightly struck his shoulder.
“I need to talk with the neutral faction. Will you wait here alone?
Or should I call the Windsors over?”
“I’ll wait with a glass of whiskey.”
Saying he had business with the neutral faction, Benjamin left.
“One glass of whiskey, please.”
A servant brought it.
The strong scent of whiskey pricked her nose.
Drink in moderation.
Benjamin mouthed the words.
He was smiling like a snake.
Somehow, the intoxication seemed to rush up all at once.
