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Chapter 106
Why Did She Do That
Emil? Emil is waiting for me?
Diana’s heart pounded wildly. Her pupils shrank, then widened. Mirva, watching, smiled with satisfaction.
“Do you think I wouldn’t know that family? I know them best. You let Herya’s son go, and you think His Grace the Duke would’ve left you alone? I know very well how you must have been treated.”
Herya.
At that word, Diana’s breath grew ragged.
Herya, Herya… She had heard that name many times. It was the woman her father had been obsessed with.
That woman—because of that woman…
“You strutted around pretending to be the true mistress of that house, but in the end, you didn’t know a single thing about them!”
Mirva cackled, then brought something to her lips. Diana recognized the stench immediately.
Silovin…
A pungent, clinging odor, spicy yet nauseating, a drug that knocks people unconscious. The worst part—those exposed to it fall into horrific hallucinations. Silovin was expensive, even as an anesthetic. The malice in using it was unmistakable.
Diana shook her head violently, but Mirva roughly pressed the drug-soaked cloth over her mouth. Her vision blurred, her heart hammered in her chest. She tried to resist losing consciousness, but her eyelids grew heavy.
No—if I faint here…
Her spiritual power would scatter, and the spirit she had barely summoned might vanish. Diana’s mind grew hazy, and the sound of a whip cracked sharply in her ears.
Mirva was right. Diana truly hadn’t known anything.
Nothing.
No matter how authoritarian her father was, no matter how much he put the family and himself above her, she had believed he still thought of her as his daughter.
Even when her brother put her in danger, she had believed him when he said he only meant to scar her face or cripple her a little.
There had been moments when he stroked her hair, when he turned back to her with a smile if she called, when they laughed together over good meals. She had been praised before. There were memories of being embraced, of running together through the garden.
It hadn’t been perfect, but she had believed that as family, they wished for one another’s happiness. She had thought that blood ties were the one absolute that would never harm her.
But… it wasn’t.
Mirva looked down at the gasping Diana with a cruel smile. Covering Diana’s mouth, her eyes vacant and her voice lost in silence, Mirva whispered:
“After Master Emil is finished educating you, you’ll be sold as a slave again.”
Her cackling laughter drowned out Diana’s muffled scream.
There was nothing to worry about.
Mirva knew Revus had locked down the capital, so no carriage could get out the gates. She knew Lady Kragel and Revus were chasing them.
Even within the palace, chaos was erupting over the queen’s disappearance—of course the kidnappers’ carriage would be found.
And yet, why did it feel so hopeless? The drug was too strong. Diana collapsed.
“Here already?”
When she opened her eyes, Diana flinched backward on her rump. Dust-filled darkness surrounded her, and before her stood Emil. Where was this? Yes… this was Pannborough. That hell. This was Emil’s room.
“Sob… sob!”
She shook her head desperately. This couldn’t be real. Emil looked young and vivid, smiling as he studied her face. Tears welled in Diana’s eyes.
Here, she was not the clever daughter of a duke, nor the queen of Rodbrok. She was only a trembling girl, staring fearfully at the one before her.
“Father’s dead, Anne. Did you hear?”
Emil grabbed her by the hair.
“I asked if you heard, you crazy bitch. Should I use the whip again?”
Diana shook her head. She twisted desperately, trying to pull away from his grip.
“A… ah…”
“Come here. I said come here!”
He barked at her. Pain burst across her head with a thud.
“Ah! It hurts!”
Violence robs people of language. Violence breaks their will. Violence tramples their pride.
Violence turns people… into beasts.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please!”
Diana clasped her hands together, begging. If she humbled herself quickly enough, maybe she wouldn’t be beaten more. Emil enjoyed seeing her beg like this.
What should I do not to provoke him? How can I make it hurt less?
“Ah! Aaah!”
“Anne, look! Father’s here. He must’ve come from hell to discipline his unfilial daughter.”
Emil chuckled, and Diana turned her face toward the figure at her side. Her father. Father? Why?
“Anne, my shameful daughter.”
She braced herself for pain, holding back her scream. Her father ground his heel into her kneeling thigh. He hated noise. He hated screams. She choked the pain down and begged. Emil and Father both liked hearing her plead.
“I-I was wrong.”
“Anne.”
Tears streamed down Diana’s face. Her eyes were empty. She hated being called Anne.
“Anne!”
She hated it. They called it a pet name, but why was their so-called love always so cruel?
“I—I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”
“……”
“I won’t do it again… I was wrong… it hurts. Father, forgive me.”
Diana sobbed. Just then, something pressed against her. She flinched, thinking it was more violence. But the body that touched her was warm. It wrapped around her. Diana’s tears fell faster.
“It’s all right.”
“……”
“It’s all right, my lady.”
In a daze, Diana felt herself being held. She heard breathing, a racing heartbeat. My lady. That voice brought her eyes back into focus.
Emil was gone. Father was gone. All of it had been an illusion. The one before her now carried a familiar scent—her slave.
“Gis…car?”
Paradoxically, the moment she heard my lady, Diana recognized Guiscard’s arms. Ah. It’s you. You’ve come. At last, you’ve come. She wept soundlessly.
“Guiscard?” she whispered again.
“Yes, my lady.”
“I’ve been waiting.”
Tears spilled down Diana’s cheeks.
“I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”
Her silent sobbing became a river. At last, Diana closed her eyes. Now, she could rest.
Revus looked at the closed door.
The March of March had turned into a march of blood. The king tortured those who had taken his queen, leaving everyone even remotely connected “alive,” but only barely.
“Good thing I warned him beforehand.”
The moment Diana had told him her plan, Revus had relayed it to Guiscard. Guiscard had raged, but Revus persuaded him.
“Would you interfere with Her Majesty’s affairs again?”
“……”
“Don’t. What if she hates you again? We agreed to let her act as she wished.”
“…Then I’ll track her.”
“That’s what I wanted.”
Revus didn’t know what was in Guiscard’s mind. His fists had trembled, but he’d calmed down. He’d even kept it secret.
During the march, he’d ridden like mad, joining Lady Kragel and Rogaphel. But there had been problems. The crowded capital was filled with carriages, and Diana’s had no promised marking.
The kidnappers’ carriage was lost in the chaos. When the gates were sealed, they abandoned Diana in an empty barn and fled.
There she was found, lost in hallucinations. Hearing her condition was strange, Guiscard had entered. The knights and Guiscard, seeing her state, kept it all secret.
“Tch.”
It had been a clever plan, using herself as bait to draw out enemies. But being taken hostage had been far too great a risk.
“This time, Her Majesty was a bit foolish.”
Revus muttered. Diana didn’t wake. She slept on and on. Mabel, the head maid, stayed by her side faithfully, and even the maids who had once turned away now worried for her.
Officially, Diana had been kidnapped by Mirva, drugged, and lured outside. The king personally captured and interrogated the culprits.
Revus had seen Guiscard then, approaching Diana’s chambers. Whatever “interrogation” meant, he was drenched in blood. The maids guarding the door flinched.
Through his ragged bangs, his violet eyes gleamed with murderous fury. The man with the eyes of a killer walked toward the door where Diana lay.
“Your Majesty. Do you intend to face the queen like that?”
Revus’s words made him glance at his own state.
“Why are you at the door?”
“I was worried.”
“Ha.”
Guiscard sneered, but he didn’t push inside. Instead, he leaned against the wall, weary. The murderous look faded, leaving bitter grief.
“Why did she do that?”
“Hm?”
“Why? She could’ve asked me for help. Why did she do that?”
“……”
The bloodstained man stared at the door. His face expressionless, but Revus could see it—the pain of a man burning with feelings for a woman who never trusted him.
“Why? Why did she do that?”
It was the only question he could ask.
“Ask her when she wakes.”
Revus suggested, but Guiscard shook his head.
“She won’t answer.”
That was the core of it. Revus grimaced. They could never trust each other.
“Of course. They’re enemies. That’s all it can ever be.”
“……”
Painful words, but Guiscard said nothing, just stared at the door. After a moment, he closed his eyes and opened them again.
“Still, ask her. You must. Don’t get angry—just listen.”
“And if she still won’t answer?”
Revus spoke as Guiscard scrubbed at his bloodstained face with one hand.
“Then you’ll have to find the answer yourself.”
“……”
For a long moment, Guiscard said nothing, deep in thought.
“…Fine.”
He looked up at the sky.
“Revus. Invite every surviving noble of Pannborough at once.”
“What?”
“I must prepare a gift… for my grieving wife.”
Muttering cryptically, he turned and left her chambers.
