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Chapter 46
The Slave and the Thalie
It was inside a dusty storage room with a small window, where just a thin beam of light managed to slip through.
The slave carried his master into his own space.
The master had collapsed. Checking her breath, he found she was alive. Realizing she was simply asleep, he felt relieved.
The slave knew he could move her to her own chambers—the lavish and luxurious room befitting her status. He also knew he could call for others of her rank to come help.
And yet, he did not.
As he was about to lay her down, he realized this place was nothing but a pit of dust. Hurriedly, he fetched a damp rag and cleaned a spot where she could rest. Even during that, she did not wake.
From among the things his master had once given him, he chose the finest garment and spread it on the ground. On it, he laid his sleeping master, then covered her with the thickest piece of cloth he owned. Draping it over her felt, strangely, like embracing her himself.
A square shaft of sunlight from the window frame cast down upon her cheek and hair.
Darkness and filth suited him, but sunlight suited her.
Here she was, in his own space, lying atop the cloak he had offered her. His master, the one who owned him.
She was someone who glimmered faintly, yet unmistakably—like moonlight. Dim, yet still undeniably shining.
On impulse, he reached out to touch her moon-colored hair. But then he remembered how she always pulled away from his touch, and withdrew his hand.
The slave hated his master. He had once considered harming her.
Ah, what a foolish thought that had been.
What was even more terrifying, he realized, was not being hated but being abandoned. The slave was foolish indeed.
His eyes gleamed dangerously as he stared at his master. Her long lashes, her pale cheeks faintly flushed, her red lips.
He gazed and gazed, as if in wonder. Surrounded by his belongings, she seemed almost his. He felt satisfied, wishing this moment would last forever.
But the time ended far too soon.
When his master opened her eyes, the slave—no, Guiscard—looked greedily upon Diana. The impudent slave began to desire his master.
And so, his choice was inevitable.
Diana, wide-eyed, watched Guiscard collapse before her. He did not hesitate—his eyes locked straight onto hers.
See? This is my loyalty.
I can give my life for this.
I truly am your ‘slave.’
That was what his expression seemed to say.
What? Why all of a sudden?
Why? You weren’t like this. Not long ago you were thinking of betraying me.
There was no need for this. Did you really have to go this far?
Guiscard could not answer. He only lay there, looking up at her, his face tightening in pain. Diana rushed over and tried to pull the sword from his chest.
Surprisingly, the blade had not gone deep. There was less blood than expected. Diana looked down at the writhing Guiscard. But instead of clutching his chest, he gripped his throat. He clenched his teeth, enduring the pain.
“What disgraceful behavior.”
The duke spoke in a low voice. The only one here who could inflict such pain on Guiscard was… his father. Duke Brienne sighed as he looked at the suffering slave.
“Should I have explained here and now that a slave cannot commit suicide?”
His cold voice rang out, and a chilling silence followed. A man bleeding, writhing in agony—and people watching him as though it were a spectacle, whispering among themselves.
Nothing about this was right. Diana looked around at them. Then, as if making up her mind, she shouted to the servants standing nearby.
“Quickly! Call a physician and treat him!”
The duke said nothing, only stared at her. In this place, the only one treating Guiscard like a person was Diana. Perhaps the pain had eased, for Guiscard lay weakly, staring up at her.
“Though he is a slave, he is the one who saved my life in the Forest of Abyss.”
Diana looked her father squarely in the eyes as she spoke. She didn’t know what angered her most—the duke picking a quarrel with the slave just to find fault with her, Lady Revien sneering at her, Ferdinand shrieking alongside, or her father suddenly declaring he would give Guiscard to Lady Revien.
The duke gave a dry laugh at his daughter’s defiant glare.
Inside the chamber, Duke Brienne saw Diana follow him in. A year ago, she had been a weeping child mourning her mother. Now, she had turned cold. Was it time that changed her, or events?
“Anne.”
The duke gently called his daughter’s name. Diana’s face remained hard.
“Heh. The way you look at your father is as though you see an enemy.”
Though he smiled softly, his words carried barbs. Diana forced herself to ignore them. He already had Alexa to smile prettily and fawn over him. He was always selfish—so why shouldn’t she act on her own will, for once?
Diana had never been a rebellious daughter. She rarely agreed with her father, but as a child, she obeyed simply because a child’s role differed from a parent’s. But now that she was grown, she saw: her father was wrong.
“They say he is a precious slave granted by the palace.”
“That is true.”
“And yet you mean to give such a slave to a lady of rank?”
“The slave insulted her. Shouldn’t such matters be handled properly?”
At that, Diana bit her lip. But whether she was angry or sorrowful, her father held the power to decide.
“Even though you gave him to me?”
“That was on the condition you manage him well—not that he be allowed to behave so insolently.”
Diana trembled with fury. The duke gazed at her.
“Father, Guiscard is my slave. Do not give him away.”
The duke did not reply. He only sighed deeply, then muttered as if to himself:
“Lately, seeing you so listless displeases me.”
“…”
“At our domain’s grand festival, what draws the most attention is not my daughter but a foreign duke’s young lady. As a father, how can I not resent that? Do you not feel the same?”
“…”
“You haven’t even secured your own place, only shutting yourself away in your chambers…”
“You mean you want me to win the ball at the Thalie festival?”
The duke paused and looked at her. Too perceptive—far too perceptive. Even though she was his daughter, those cold silver-gray eyes gave him chills.
“In that case, you needn’t have brought Guiscard into it.”
“No.”
The duke reached out and stroked Diana’s hair. Though the gesture might have been comforting, it felt instead like being brushed by a blade without an edge—sending shivers down her scalp.
“Anne, I want my daughter to shine the brightest. When you were born, I thought: I will raise her to the most exalted position in this land.”
“…”
“A sly cat is watching for a chance to steal your place—what father wouldn’t be furious? Anne, I am enraged.”
Looking at his hardened face, Diana was left speechless. This was her father’s form of love.
Whenever she struggled, he would speak to her like this. In her previous life, hearing those words had secretly made her happy, though the path he demanded was painful and unwanted. I want my daughter to be the best. She had taken that as his love, and moved according to his will.
Even now, she felt the same. Seeing her family so openly despise Lady Revien, whom Diana hated, filled her with a deep sense of love and affection.
Even in the hellish palace of Rodbrok, she often wondered—what if her father had still been alive?
After her debut into society, he always disapproved of anyone who threatened her place. He endlessly repeated that his daughter must be the best, that she must rise to the highest seat. He even eliminated rivals on her behalf—though Diana had never wanted it.
Tears streamed from Diana’s eyes.
“Father.”
“…”
“Father, then why must you always drive me to this point?”
Always pushing her, never truly standing at her side, never defending her openly—only driving her harder. The duke looked at his daughter’s tear-streaked face.
“My daughter.”
“…”
“The world will not always be kind to you. It was not kind to me, and it will not be to you.”
“…”
“That is why I mean to raise you higher. Then no one will dare belittle you. I know better than anyone what it is to be scorned and trampled.”
His eyes were bloodshot.
“Do you know how the world sneers at those of low station, those of no worth? The world is that wretched.”
“…”
“Your world must not be like that.”
Diana bit her lip and looked at him. Seeing his conviction, she once again gave in.
“You’re right.”
“…”
“I’ll do as you wish. But don’t touch Guiscard.”
Once, she had yearned desperately for even this kind of love. Better this than nothing—better to have a pillar standing behind her. Yet it was cruel, and she resented it.
Still, Diana loved her father.
And so, she could not let Guiscard be taken away.
