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Chapter : 19
Unfortunately, the cookies he’d eaten ended up causing trouble, and Dante had to return straight to his room without even setting foot in the dining room.
The moment I supported him—almost wrapping him in my arms as he collapsed—his scorching body heat washed over me.
Only then, as I pressed a hand to his feverish forehead, did I realize Dante had been hiding his condition.
“A beast, indeed.”
Watching Dante breathe hotly while unconscious, Gote murmured in admiration.
“The stronger the beast, the better it hides its pain. It knows that the moment it becomes defenseless, its throat will be torn out.”
It seemed the man from the slums hadn’t been satisfied with beating him—he’d starved him too. Even with his fever raging, Dante vomited up everything that could remotely be called food.
“The signs suggest he hasn’t eaten properly for a long time. On top of that, the fever is preventing his body from accepting food. First, we need to soothe his damaged stomach.”
The doctor Gote summoned advised feeding him thin gruel until his overly sensitive stomach settled.
“Please rest, Your Highness. I’ll call for a maid to look after the child.”
“It’s fine. I’ll do it. I’ve already fallen completely out of favor with the head maid, so instead of helping, they’ll just watch nervously. And you said yourself you can’t easily interfere with the maids’ work.”
“I could at least give them a warning. If you’re truly worried, perhaps you could call the children who went out on relief efforts with you?”
I shook my head slowly.
“No need. You said His Majesty summoned you, right? You should hurry to the Sun Palace.”
“Are you… disappointed?”
Gote asked cautiously.
If I were the old Eirencia—someone who feared the emperor yet still longed for even a scrap of parental affection—I might have been.
“No. Not really.”
Maybe it was because my blood sugar had gone up. Surprisingly, I felt completely fine. After all, the emperor and I were practically strangers.
But Gote seemed to think otherwise.
“Since you awoke, Your Highness’s actions haven’t been your usual self. He’s likely trying to ask what happened. Surely… he’s worried.”
His gaze was warm, filled with consolation, but hearing that made unease creep over me.
“…Even though I already went to see him before?”
“The ministers and His Highness the Crown Prince were present, so you couldn’t have spoken in depth.”
Should I… go too?
If this were a typical childcare novel, I’d probably act cute and devise some survival plan. But I knew myself well.
With a twisted personality like mine, I was far more likely to become a pigeon barging into the emperor’s nest than his pretty little lapdog.
A chicken-pigeon under my blanket.
Yeah. Staying here was better.
“Alright, got it. Have a safe trip.”
With a refreshed expression, I lay down beside the future villain and waved my hand lightly.
They say staying still is the safest bet.
I’d already learned that lesson well enough, living as a half-baked child of a conglomerate chairman.
There was no special shortcut to prolonging one’s life.
Late at night, I jolted awake at a choking, strangled groan.
Turning my head, I saw Dante curled up like a dying baby animal, clawing at his chest in agony.
The moment I saw movements bordering on a seizure, my mind went blank.
“Dante? Dante! Snap out of it!”
What was I supposed to do in situations like this?
Call the doctor first…! No—secure the airway…!
Of all the emergency measures a civilian could take, easing his breathing came first.
Before the thought even finished forming, my body moved on instinct.
Just as I reached toward his neck to undo his shirt buttons—
Dante let out a short scream and slapped my hand away.
“Don’t… touch…!”
He was forcing himself to breathe steadily. The way he swallowed back screams and dragged in air looked painfully familiar.
Yet despite that effort, Dante’s eyes were steadily losing focus.
Even in the darkness, I could see his consciousness slipping away.
If I left him like this, the villain might really die.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, my hand hesitated midair.
If I just leave him alone…
At the very least, the original future where I’m killed by the villain would disappear, wouldn’t it?
It would be an easy, clean solution.
“……”
Death was familiar to me.
Watching someone close enough to picture with my eyes closed die. Watching strangers whose names I never knew die. I’d experienced it all, to the point of nausea.
“Ugh…”
If I simply watched, I could kill the villain without lifting a finger.
No one would suspect me.
If Dante stopped breathing, at least I wouldn’t be murdered by him like in the original story.
The adrenaline that had been surging made my head spin—then vanished in an instant, leaving my body limp.
Haven’t I… done enough already?
The moment I found Dante, I’d pulled the bell rope.
A maid would arrive soon. If I was lucky, a sharp one might even bring a doctor.
All I could do now was help him breathe by loosening his clothes.
Swallowing hard as I looked at Dante’s cheeks wet with reflexive tears—
His breathing grew ragged, and his night-sky-dark eyes began to lose their light.
“Ugh…!”
At last, a scream like a dying gasp burst through his clenched teeth. From long experience, I could tell his pain had reached its limit.
A black abyss, like death itself, surged across his pale face.
Just like the darkness that dragged me down that day I fell into the sea.
That was when—
“…!”
Did our eyes… meet?
It was too brief to be sure.
But for that fleeting instant, I had the eerie sensation that those darkened eyes were looking straight at me.
Damn it.
What the hell am I thinking!
Snapping back to my senses, I hurriedly grabbed at his shirt—
When the pitch-black shadow of death crawled up Dante’s neck—
“Huh?”
Black?
I doubted my own eyes.
Not figuratively—there really was a black shadow writhing across his face, as if it had been tattooed there.
And—
“…Holy shit. What is this?”
So shocked my eyes felt like they’d pop out, I twisted my neck to stare at my own hand glowing with golden light.
It wasn’t my imagination. Light was genuinely spilling from this small hand.
And as if avoiding that light, the shadow devouring Dante’s face squirmed and retreated down his neck.
“Ugh… don’t— touch—”
“Hold still!”
I yanked open Dante’s shirt, only to frown at the horrific sight.
On the left side of the boy’s chest—where a fist-sized heart should have been beating—there was a pitch-black hole.
“It’s not… actually pierced.”
Looking closer, it seemed like an illusion formed by pooled shadow.
…Wait. Could it be?
A thought flashed through my mind.
Watching the light brighten like a flashlight, I cautiously placed my hand over his heart.
Then—
Crackle!
“Ghk!”
A sharp pain like seared flesh shot through me, accompanied by a faint electric shock.
At the same time, Dante’s face twisted grotesquely.
Yeah. Definitely shouldn’t touch that.
I knew instinctively. One careless move, and I’d be attending a funeral for real.
“Ugh…”
Man, what a nasty scowl.
I slowly brushed Dante’s forehead. Soon, his tightly furrowed brows relaxed.
Haa… ha…
His chest, which had been rising and falling violently, gradually returned to a steady rhythm. His blurred focus slowly came back.
Then, Dante opened his mouth with effort.
“You…”
His damaged throat produced a rough sound.
“So? Feeling a bit more clear-headed?”
When I suddenly leaned close, he flinched. His eyes widened, and his small mouth—still carrying traces of pain—opened slightly.
Then, as if deeply displeased, Dante sharply furrowed his brows, clenched his teeth, and spat the words out like he was chewing them.
“Get lost.”
Hearing that razor-edged voice, I smiled benevolently—about as kindly as Gote ever did.
And then—
“If that’s what you want.”
Without hesitation, I rolled Dante off my lap and onto the floor.
“….”
Damn novel.
Watching Dante, now asleep again, I muttered a curse.
Two people with opposing divine attributes.
…Wasn’t that painfully cliché?
And Eirencia wasn’t even the protagonist—just a supporting villain who dies midway through. Why add a setting like this just to mess with someone’s head?
It screamed hidden secret, and just thinking about it gave me a headache.
“Ugh.”
Dante shifted uncomfortably, gasping like his breath might snap. Blood and pus seeped through the gauze that had nearly come loose during his seizure.
“I need to change it.”
Silently listening to the boy’s groans, I replaced the damp gauze.
There wasn’t a single uninjured place on his small body. Even wounds that weren’t new covered his back, legs, and everywhere else—scars so severe they looked more like torture marks.
“These are… very old scars. It seems he’s suffered continuous abuse since infancy.”
The doctor who had hesitated before had suspected Dante’s adoptive father.
But I thought differently.
It was Duke Eberhardt.
From the moment he was born, Dante had been subjected to human experimentation by his biological father. These scars must be from then.
Five years after the experiments began, Dante was deemed a failure and abandoned in the slums.
The duke hadn’t spared him out of fatherly love.
It was so that, if the experiment succeeded, he could retrieve Dante immediately.
Because Dante was the successful vessel of an experiment meant to house the remnants of a dead god within a fragile human body.
If that was the case…
Then the light coming from my hand right now is…
