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Chapter 59
“Let’s head to the duke’s mansion quickly. It’s much closer.”
Damia didn’t miss the chance and tugged on his sleeve.
“Hurry.”
Kashian sighed but let himself be pulled along by her hand.
“Set off for the duke’s mansion.”
Kashian gave instructions to Alex and gently pushed Damia into the carriage.
But his composure ended there.
With a dull thud, the carriage door closed.
“…Ugh!”
Kashian, trying to sit across from her, suddenly collapsed.
“Duke?”
He clutched at his chest, hunching over.
Cold sweat poured down his face as the color drained from his skin.
It was as if some terrible pain was ripping through his entire body.
“Are you alright? It’s because of that handkerchief, isn’t it!”
Damia rushed to him, reaching out to support him.
“Let go!”
Kashian pushed her away roughly.
The narrow carriage echoed with the sound of friction.
“…Ah.”
Damia wrapped her burning hand over her palm.
Kashian’s red eyes glinted ferociously, like a wild beast.
This was the first time he had rejected her so violently.
‘Why is he acting like this all of a sudden?’
He seemed to hate her touch, yet at the same time, there was fear in his eyes.
“Uh… so… I’m sorry.”
She apologized first, trying not to provoke him further.
As if triggered by her voice, his empty red eyes slowly focused.
“…Damia?”
Kashian, panting heavily, fixed his gaze on her reddened hand.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Well…”
“Wait, did I… hit you?”
His eyes darted between his hand and hers, trembling as if the world had shifted.
“It’s nothing. I just thought you were startled.”
“Did I really… touch you?”
Her explanations seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Kashian’s face contorted far more miserably than before.
“I told you, I’m fine.”
No matter how she tried, she couldn’t pull him out of the shock.
He bit his lips so hard it drew blood, as if refusing to believe it.
‘People in pain can’t always think clearly.’
Honestly, she was surprised, but she could understand Kashian a little.
It was remarkable that he had endured such an immense curse for so long.
The curse had likely gnawed at not only his body but his mind as well.
Then, Kashian suddenly lifted his head.
“Did you… hear that?”
“Huh? Hear what?”
“…That voice.”
A voice?
Damia reflexively looked around.
Outside, it was already dim.
The forest was deep and quiet, except for the sounds of hooves and the carriage wheels.
Even the knights were on guard, trying not to make a sound.
There was no situation where a stranger’s voice could be heard.
“I didn’t hear anything.”
A heavy silence filled the carriage.
Kashian’s gaze, staring into the empty air, trembled unnervingly.
“Didn’t you hear… like a man’s voice? It sounded like he was giving orders.”
“Um… I didn’t hear anything.”
Was he imagining things?
Would it be better to pretend he heard something, just to calm him?
“…I see.”
“Huh?”
“Maybe I really lost my mind for a moment. Don’t worry about it.”
He seemed to accept the explanation—or at least force himself to.
Damia parted her lips, offering comfort, hoping a short rest would help him recover.
But then, she noticed Kashian’s hand.
‘Huh?’
He was repeatedly clenching and unclenching his pale fist.
It was a habit he unconsciously repeated whenever he lied.
♦♦♦
“Viscount is waiting inside.”
Count Pavron wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
He had rushed here upon hearing that Viscount Soro urgently requested his presence.
“The first prince attended Miss Soro’s coming-of-age ceremony?”
Had he known, he would have attended as well, no matter how busy with his gold mining business.
“Viscount is waiting inside.”
The viscount’s servant repeated the same phrase, ignoring his question.
‘Not even answering properly… how rude.’
It had been urgent enough that Pavron abandoned his business to come here.
After showing this much effort, shouldn’t the viscount have come out himself to greet him?
“It’s unbearably hot today.”
Pavron fanned himself, scolding the servant for not offering a drink.
If this were his own mansion, he would have slapped that servant immediately.
“Hurry, Count.”
Instead of serving a drink or apologizing, the servant repeated the phrase mechanically.
“The viscount’s household hospitality is terrible.”
Even as he ground his teeth in front of the servant, there was no reaction at all.
Pavron, about to curse at the insolence, froze.
‘Wait… could it be…’
The servant’s eyes, which Pavron glanced at, were empty.
His movements were stiff and jerky, like a mechanical doll.
‘Why am I being led to the study in the annex?’
Without explanation, the servant began pulling books from the shelves one by one.
“What are you doing?”
When the last book was removed, the heavy bookshelf slid with a grinding sound, revealing a hidden passage.
‘A secret passage.’
Looking down, the darkness seemed bottomless.
If the servant nudged him, Pavron would fall and break his neck.
“You may go down.”
Pavron’s broad shoulders twitched. He stiffly turned his head to glare at the servant.
“Am I the only one going?”
“You may go down.”
The servant repeated the phrase mechanically, word for word.
Pavron bit his lip. It seemed impossible to reason with him.
“….”
He slowly rolled his dark eyes, adjusting to the darkness. He could faintly see stairs leading downward.
“Hurry, Count.”
Pavron took a step forward, uneasy.
The moment he crossed the threshold—
Ziiing—!
A pressure, as if space itself twisted, struck him.
“Ugh!”
He groaned involuntarily, his whole body burning as if swallowing fire.
Veins on the back of his hands bulged and writhed unnaturally.
“What the…!”
The servant slowly pointed upward.
Only then did Pavron notice the strange markings above the entrance—a kind of barrier.
“Ugh…”
The markings had turned a deeply ominous red.
As the crimson light passed over him, the pain vanished as if by magic.
“Only those with dragon blood may enter.”
The servant’s dry voice was utterly emotionless.
“…What? I almost died—what kind of trick is this?”
“Your lineage is confirmed. You may descend.”
The servant bowed stiffly, as if nothing had happened.
Pavron’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
“Quick to tell me, but not a word in advance? Is this the viscount’s order?”
He forced a laugh. Cold sweat ran down his temples.
“Did they think I lied about my birth?”
“You may descend.”
The servant repeated the phrase mechanically.
“Damn it.”
Pavron twisted his mouth.
After years of serving under the viscount like a dog, they were now testing his life.
The Soro viscount and the dragons treated the Pavron family as a shameful hybrid.
One of their distant ancestors had been a dragon, so Pavron could hardly admit he had dragon blood.
But even a trace was still a trace.
‘And all this time, they didn’t believe it, so now they test me like this?’
Pavron’s thick fists trembled with rage.
