Chapter 41
We’ve met before, haven’t we?
It was a few years ago.
The Navy of Secradion had waged a long war in the distant seas of Lactea to eradicate the pirates oppressing its citizens.
Count Killian, who was granted the territory of Serenade—famous for Delaware Art Street and the lush Alden Lake—and the vast Arcas Strait as a badge of honor, was hailed as a hero of the naval battles.
He was also a long-time ally of the Green family and the godfather of Daphne.
Daphne had been in an accident at the age of fifteen when she was hit by a carriage.
Although the broken leg was said to recover fully without aftereffects through rehabilitation, it was devastating for someone so young.
―”You’ll have to give up ballet.”
The young girl, whose dream had been crushed, was consumed by unrefined anger at everything.
Her godfather, seeing Daphne wallow in apathy, would wake her at five in the morning, making her assist with his morning routine and study obsolete languages no longer in use.
“Don’t fall asleep unless it’s bedtime. Walk without making a sound. Keep your back and spine straight. Don’t cross your legs when sitting. Don’t tremble. And under no circumstances should you use foul language.”
In the morning, he sent her off to school begrudgingly. On report card days, he scolded her relentlessly. Upon her return home, he made her study until her bedtime at midnight.
“If I’d known Amber would raise her daughter in such a mess, I wouldn’t have taken you in.”
Her godfather often lamented like that.
“You seem to regret things rather late.”
Daphne, who was deeply engrossed in playing the role of a princess at the time, sometimes spoke to adults in an odd tone. After all, she was the heir to a marquisate, while Killian was merely a count.
Killian initially pointed out her odd behavior but eventually left it alone when it didn’t change.
Though in his forties, Killian was in frail health. Rumors of his terminal cancer diagnosis suggested he wouldn’t live more than a few years.
Daphne thought to herself: as long as she could endure until then, the land would become hers. She could use those assets to fund her own ventures, and then…
But, as life often goes, nothing turned out as Daphne had imagined.
*****
“Why on earth did you send a letter like this to His Highness the Prince?”
Killian threw a dark green piece of paper in front of Daphne with a devastated expression. The cramped handwriting, full of anger and desperation, seemed to plead for justice.
Daphne glanced at it briefly with her eyes lowered, then ignored it.
“Exactly as it says. Exactly as it’s written there. I asked him to annihilate the families of Ranon Kelly and Janet. Oh, wait. Those girls don’t even have families since they’re beggars, do they? I’ll have to rewrite it.”
At the time, Daphne behaved as though the palace were her personal playground, indulged like a princess. Her tone reflected that privilege. She looked down on anyone below her and assumed her words were law.
“Daphne Beaucater.”
Killian’s weathered face twisted into a scowl, and he slammed his cane onto the ground. The force cracked the marble floor.
“That was a letter I sent to my fiancé. Why did you intercept it?”
“Intercept? Surely you’re not claiming ignorance about where His Highness is.”
It was obvious that the letter wouldn’t have reached him since he was at war—it had likely been returned.
“Ah, so you read a returned letter? How distasteful. Are you some kind of pervert?”
“Daphne.”
“I told you before, didn’t I? Those girls treated me like that. Since you refused to take my side, I simply sought help from my future husband.”
The mansion, which resembled a glass palace, was where Daphne first interacted with girls her own age from lower social standings. She had learned that the way to make friends there was by spending money.
Her first semester had been quite enjoyable.
“I did nothing wrong.”
She had hired people to send delicious food to small parties hosted by her peers and even gifted them pretty jewels. Everyone seemed to like it. They laughed together, chatted, and had fun.
“And yet, you beat Kelly’s face to a pulp, and you did nothing wrong?”
The trouble began when she failed to prepare a birthday gift for Kelly, the Queen Bee among the commoner girls. In desperation, she gave her a piece of jewelry she had already worn once.
“She called me—Amber Green’s daughter—a prostitute. She said the Beaucater and Green families were money-hungry demons. And she’s just a beggar!”
The criticism started with Kelly sneering at the re-gifted accessory. Rumors spread that Daphne, the rich girl, couldn’t even spend money properly.
“You’ve disappointed me again, Daphne. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Disappointing Killian was far too easy. Oversleeping alone was enough for him to brand her as a lost cause.
“Mother sold me to my godfather, they say…”
The rumors escalated to claims that she’d been sold to her godfather—a man famously sickly and rumored to be paralyzed from the waist down. Upon overhearing this gossip behind the school building, Daphne snapped and smashed her fist into Ranon Kelly’s face.
And as soon as she returned home, she wrote a letter to her “Romeo,” demanding that he eradicate those girls’ families immediately.
“I’m going to be royalty one day. That means they deserve to be charged with insulting the royal family.”
“Did you write to Amber Green about this as well?”
“Mother mustn’t know. She’d call me back home immediately, and it wouldn’t just end with annihilating their families.”
Amber, who adored Daphne, would likely shut down the entire school if she found out. When Daphne had injured her leg, her mother’s secretary mentioned that Amber had cried for three days and nights despite her notoriously busy schedule.
‘She never came to the hospital, though.’
Killian, setting his teacup on its saucer, looked troubled. He had brought this up casually to the butler before, but the response was always the same: “The future Crown Princess must learn patience.”
“This is nothing but idle gossip. Don’t let passing rumors upset you.”
Much like now.
“How do you know it’s idle gossip? Do you understand the world of girls? They can turn lies into truth and destroy people with it.”
“Daphne, it’s not just the ‘world of girls’ that operates that way. That’s why you need to know your place. Be magnanimous toward those below you—”
Daphne rolled her golden eyes upward. It was the same tiresome lecture.
“I know my place perfectly well. I’m the king’s niece, the future daughter-in-law, Amber Green’s daughter, and Killian Serenade’s goddaughter. It’d be stranger if I didn’t react to being treated like this.”
“So, you’re saying your violence is justified?”
“Yes.”
Daphne answered bluntly. Killian sighed deeply.
“If you’re going to act this way, go back to the Beaucater household.”
“No.”
This pathetic, foolish count would die eventually, and the estate would be hers. She couldn’t return now, not after all the humiliation.
“Let me ask again, Daphne. Do you truly believe it was justified to beat those girls nearly to death?”
“As you said, it was nearly to death, not death itself.”
“Do you not understand why they couldn’t fight back, even when they had every chance to?”
“How would I know? Should I care? I don’t want to know.”
Sitting upright, Daphne responded firmly. Killian inhaled sharply, shook his head, and rang the bell to summon the butler before leaving the table.
Daphne finally relaxed, tears falling silently. She picked up her cold teacup and slammed it onto the cracked floor.
She was furious. Nothing seemed to go her way. She buried her face in her hands.
“That lunatic. Would it kill him to take my side? Just once? I’m his goddaughter, for heaven’s sake…”
Narid hurried over to wipe Daphne’s tears. The Serenade mansion, once so beautiful, now felt like a desolate cave. Narid hugged Daphne tightly, trying to comfort her.
“Why can’t they touch me? How would I know?”
“Oh, dear. Please don’t cry, my lady. Your beautiful face…”
“What do you know, anyway?”
Narid stepped back, startled by Daphne’s sharp tone.
“Physical blows don’t hurt at all. That’s the least of it. I’d rather be hit by a carriage a thousand more times!”
Whenever the whispers of the other girls reached her ears, Daphne was overcome with a murderous rage, craving to show them the fear she had endured.
But I can’t do anything.
In Lethe, where rumors about her were as vile as sewage, her words held no power.
Even when Ranon Kelly’s mother demanded compensation through crude threats, Killian responded diplomatically. He promised to admit the girl to the best hospital in Serenade and to support her until she went to college.
Killian dealt with Ranon with the politeness he rarely showed Daphne, even offering a warm smile. Ranon, in turn, feigned tears and apologies before him.
Hah…
But Ranon never once apologized to Daphne.
*****
No matter how much she despised Killian Serenade, Daphne had no choice but to fulfill her duties as his goddaughter.
She wanted nothing more than to leave everything behind and run away. But as the future Crown Princess, running away simply because things weren’t going her way would be disgraceful.
Snow had fallen throughout the night, freezing the paths and painting Serenade white, evoking a wintry atmosphere.
“It’s cold.”
Wearing a pair of wool gloves knitted by a maid, Daphne pushed Killian’s wheelchair along the dim shores of Alden Lake. Her cheeks were still puffed with annoyance toward him.
“Yes, it’s cold,” she replied curtly.
“Even after drinking ginger tea, do your hands and feet remain cold?”
“Yes.”
Seeing Killian’s scarf untied, Daphne grabbed its end and tied it back for him. As a subtle act of rebellion, she fashioned it into a ribbon. A mischievous grin flickered across her face.
“I see…”
She wheeled him to the top of a hill, where they could look down at the frozen Alden Lake. From this vantage point, the orange lights of the surrounding houses, neatly arranged around the lake, were clearly visible.
“It’s truly beautiful.”
Daphne admired the lights, their color reminiscent of her own eyes. This was why she couldn’t give up.
“If my godfather dies quietly without a fuss, this land will be mine.”
As the thought crossed her mind, she flinched at her own cruelty, sneaking a glance at Killian to gauge his reaction.
“I heard that tea leaves imported from the East have a warming effect on the body,” he said suddenly.
“Green tea?”
“No, not that. It’s sweet with a peculiar scent, almost medicinal.”
“I’ll try to find out.”
“Good…”
Killian frequently took care of Daphne’s health. At first, she assumed it was simply because he wanted her as his successor, but there seemed to be another reason she couldn’t quite discern.
She released the wheelchair and flexed her hands, which were stiff from the cold. The days were growing shorter, and it was getting colder. They shouldn’t linger outside much longer.
Then, a gust of wind swept past, tickling her nose.
“Ah-choo!”
Her sudden sneeze caused her elbow to bump the wheelchair. Apparently, she had forgotten to lock the brakes, and the chair began rolling straight down the sloped path.
“Killian!”
Killian clutched the chair’s arms tightly, unable even to scream. Daphne’s vision spun as she dashed down the hill after him.
The wheelchair came to a precarious halt on the frozen surface of the lake, the ice creaking ominously beneath its weight.
“Oh, no… no…”
Daphne froze in place, holding her breath. On the ice, Killian’s broad back was rigid with tension.
The icy lake quickly began to swallow him whole.
