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Chapter 42
I’ll Stay By Your Side
It was silly, but he had to admit it: even at this age, he missed his mother’s voice and the kindness in it. Since he’d woken up again, memories of his mother visited him more often, popping up at any time, uninvited. Daniel turned to look out the window, where darkness had settled deep. He closed his eyes, not wanting to remember anything else.
“No. Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”
He really had asked Frida to treat him as kindly as possible. He just hadn’t expected her to call him by his name so easily—or that hearing it would stir up so many memories. That’s probably why his mind was in such a mess. He hadn’t prepared for this, hadn’t thought of what to do. He tried to convince himself that was all it was. But the moment he felt the gentle, short breath at his chin, carried by the spring breeze and following her quiet steps, all his attempts to calm down fell apart.
“Are you all right? Your Gra… I mean, Da… Daniel.”
Frida stammered his name. Just like that morning, when he’d asked her—out of nowhere—to be as kind to him as possible, she hadn’t questioned why. Did she even know why he’d made that request? Now that Baron Boild had arrived, it was only a matter of time before news of Munheim Castle reached the Empress Dowager. He didn’t want word to get to the palace that he and Frida barely spoke. The Empress Dowager was always prying into Daniel’s life, looking for a hidden woman, scared he might father a child before Emperor Leopold. If the news said he got along well with his supposedly dying wife, maybe she’d relax her watch. It was selfish—he just wanted to be left in peace. So why did Frida go along with it, no complaints? He remembered his mother, who worried for Daniel until the very end, even when she died because of something her son had done. Foolishly kind. His head hurt. His heart ached as if it were burning.
He opened his eyes slowly, unable to bear the pain. Frida filled his vision, looking at him nervously.
“What’s wrong, Daniel? Are you sick?”
“…Yes.”
A wind, not even cold, felt like it was cutting his skin.
“It hurts.”
It felt like the cries of wild animals outside were clawing at his throat.
“Survive, Daniel. Being alive is what matters.”
If he ever met his mother in heaven, he wanted to ask her: Why? Why is it important? What’s the point of struggling to keep living like this? Did she know it was him who caused her death? And she wasn’t the only one—so many others had died by his sword. At night, their cries pressed down on him. Their pleas for mercy, their curses, filled his mind completely.
“Mother, please save my mother. I was wrong. Please, just forgive me once.”
His last memory was of his small, desperate fingers grabbing at the Duchess’s skirt, begging for a chance.
“Look closely, Daniel. This is what happens when you take what isn’t yours. Your foolish greed killed so many.”
So many bodies piled up, more than a child’s eyes could hold. Sometimes he wished his head would just break, so he could forget everything and guilt would never choke him again.
“It hurts too much.”
Please—let me breathe, just for a moment.
“So…”
I feel like I’m dying. Please, just leave me alone. Please.
“Go back to your room.”
Daniel turned away. He didn’t want to see or hear anything else. He especially didn’t want anyone to see how weak he really was.
“If you have something to say, tell me tomorrow—”
“Don’t worry, Daniel.”
A warm hand stroked his back.
“Just get some good sleep. You’ll feel better.”
As her gentle arms wrapped around his waist from behind, all the tension left Daniel’s body.
“Tonight, I’ll… stay by your side.”
Quietly, in the deep of night when everyone was asleep, someone crept through the halls and carefully opened the kitchen door.
“Oh, you scared me.”
The person startled by the shadow on the wall was Dominic. The shadow belonged to Muriel, who was sitting alone at the table, enjoying a drink.
“What are you doing here at this hour? Where’s Adele?”
Dominic, recovering from the shock, expertly searched the shelves for something to eat and filled a plate.
“She went to bed early. She said cooking for all those special guests today was so stressful, her body felt numb. She’s completely worn out.”
“I wanted to taste Adele’s special food. That’s a shame.”
Dominic put the full plate in front of Muriel, then seemed to remember something and hurried back to the pantry, muttering,
“Adele said she bought a few casks of expensive wine…”
“See that oak barrel, farthest from the oven?”
“That one?”
“Yes, that one. Fill up—there’s still a lot left.”
Dominic poured the wine so full it almost spilled and carefully placed the glass on the table. Muriel, munching on Adele’s sausage, quickly poured half the wine into her own glass. Dominic, watching the wine drip onto the table, grumbled and pulled his own glass closer.
“I bet Sir Rosibalt got to drink plenty, didn’t she?”
“No matter how much you drink, it’s never enough. Anyway, where were you hiding all afternoon?”
“This wine is really good.”
Dominic wiped red wine from his mouth with the back of his hand and spread jam thickly on a piece of bread.
“Hiding? I was checking the workers’ quarters and inspecting the equipment. I was busy.”
“Looked like the wolf and owl were busy too.”
“That’s because Baron Boild arrived. We have to stay alert for any rats following him.”
Muriel rested her chin on her hand, watching Dominic gulp down his wine. She still couldn’t figure him out. When she thought about how he’d deceived the young lady for three years, she found him cold and untrustworthy, just as the rumors said. But when she saw him working so hard for the lady, he seemed reliable. Sometimes he looked simple and carefree, but other times he was sharper than a well-forged sword. Muriel stared at this complicated man for a while before asking,
“Why does the Updike heir cling to the Duke so much? He keeps calling ‘Daniel, Daniel’ like the name’s going to wear out.”
“It’s a secret.”
“I’ve got a new secret about you too, Dominic.”
Muriel’s eyes glinted slyly as they met Dominic’s, who swallowed his food with a small, troubled sound.
“I feel like you’ve got me by the nose.”
“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.”
Normally, Dominic would threaten to go tattle to the Duchess, but tonight, he couldn’t say anything. Should he keep being the good guy for the Duchess, or become a traitor? He quickly made up his mind—not worth it to stop being the good guy just to keep Heinrich’s secret.
“Do you know about the Battle of Calais?”
“Of course. The border marquis stopped more than five times his number with just five hundred soldiers—that’s famous.”
“There’s something the palace doesn’t know. We were there too—Daniel and about twenty mercenaries.”
“The Duke was at that eastern border battle?”
The Battle of Calais, the greatest feat of the Updike marquis, happened six years ago, the year Emperor Leopold II took the throne. Muriel leaned in, eager to hear more.
“You know about the Hatzfeld family’s rebellion the year Leopold II was crowned?”
“I do. Several Rosibalt family members died there.”
“There was something odd about that rebellion.”
Dominic scratched his chin, deep in thought.
“Daniel always says, ‘War is about money. You end a war not by taking the commander’s head, but by cutting off the money.’”
If there was something most people didn’t know about Daniel, it was that he hated fighting. He hated it so much that he’d crush any spark that might cause another war. The old fox at Schendel Castle might brag that his politics made his son emperor, but it was Daniel who really kept things under control. The reason the empire was quiet during the three years Daniel slept was because he’d pulled out the roots of every possible rebel.
“The Hatzfeld rebellion didn’t have clear funding, so we went to the eastern region with only a few people to check things out quietly.”
“So that’s how you ended up helping the marquis?”
“Help? We don’t help people. We were going to leave as soon as we’d checked things out. No reason to get caught up in a fight. But, just our luck, those guys showed up right in front of us…”
Dominic shook his head, clicking his tongue as he gulped more wine. The whole thing was just bad luck. The east was huge, but they just happened to run into trouble there.
“That idiot Heinrich Updike was out scouting, got caught by the Solon tribe, and we happened to pass by and see him. If we hadn’t seen him, maybe we would have kept going. But when you see someone you know, you can’t just leave him—especially when he’s dangling from a tree.”
They ended up rescuing Heinrich, fighting the Solon supply unit (about thirty people), and burning their supplies. When the marquis found out his only son was safe, the rest of the battle finished quickly.
“We saved his son and wiped out the enemy’s supplies—of course, the marquis saw us as heroes. Even that stiff man thanked us.”
“Why has no one heard about this?”
“Too much trouble. If the Empress Dowager found out, she’d ask a million questions about why we were there, without palace permission, in a border region. Could have raised all sorts of suspicions.”
And the marquis had no reason to share that he hadn’t done it alone.
“That’s when it started. That noble has no shame—heir to the marquis, but he’s always calling Daniel his hero and his friend. It’s embarrassing.”
Muriel nodded. She’d already disliked Heinrich since he teased Frida. Dominic suddenly slammed his glass down on the table.
“Come to think of it, that crazy flower deer shot his mouth off at our Duchess, didn’t he? Is it true?”
“Oh, that?” Muriel chuckled, her shoulders shaking.
“Don’t worry. She got him back—our lady isn’t the type to just take that.”
“She gave it to him herself? Tell me more!”
Now Dominic leaned across the table eagerly.
Early the next morning, Heinrich barged into Marian Hall. His hair was messy, his eyes still sticky with sleep. Even though he wore fine clothes, he looked disheveled.
“How does this place run? I’ve rung the bell forever and nobody’s come? Seriously?”
He didn’t know the bell in Baron Boild’s downstairs room worked fine. The servants, having heard he’d insulted Frida, were now ignoring his calls on purpose. Heinrich stomped down the hall and up the stairs to the bedroom where he’d had dinner with Daniel the night before.
“This is terrible. In a castle this big, you’d think there’d be a decent parlor for guests. I bet our Daniel’s going broke paying for that woman’s medicine.”
He grumbled and pushed the door open without knocking.
“Daniel! What’s the lady of this house doing, anyway—”
Sunlight flooded the room. Heinrich raised his hand to block the glare, but when his eyes adjusted, he froze. In the middle of the big bed, the gold-leaf curtains pushed aside, sat his hero—Daniel Richard. With his pale, white-haired wife. Together.
