CMH Chapter 8.1

Volume 8 part 1

 

Daon’s slave contract was so old that the paper had yellowed with age. Still, the contract that Viscount Zelgirk had brought as evidence didn’t appear to have any illegal issues. Princess Anna questioned him sharply.

“Why is there only this one document? Even if she is a slave, foreigners from such distant lands must be reported to the king first, according to the law, Viscount.”

Zelgirk flinched, perhaps surprised by the unexpected question. Princess Anna continued coldly.

“I may be a woman and ignorant of the law, but the men who know the law well will scrutinize this even more thoroughly. Looking at this contract alone, it seems like you acquired a shipwrecked foreigner as a private illegal slave, correct?”

If such a flimsy document were the evidence in a dispute, Ixor and the legal expert Zephar would immediately seize on it.

“T-That is… Of course, I submitted reports right after acquiring the slave. Several times, in fact! But back then, the country was in turmoil with battles breaking out everywhere, and proper reports weren’t processed. So I…”

“I understand.”

She cut off Zelgirk’s rambling, indifferent to what he had to say, and confirmed in an irritated tone,

“So this girl is your property, you say?”

“Yes! The contract was written in accordance with the king’s laws, yet Ixor ignores my ownership. Before that, the deceased Count Drewbury kept her secretly. If I had known, I would’ve taken her back immediately.”

Zelgirk replied eagerly with relief, but when Anna asked her next question, he grew visibly uncomfortable and began to sweat.

“You lived right next door and didn’t know for seven years, Viscount?”

“Well… ahem! Count Drewbury and I weren’t on good terms. I had no way of knowing how many slaves he kept. Then, on the day of his death, Ixor invaded… and after that, you know the rest.”

Zelgirk bowed almost obsequiously. Princess Anna sighed, then curtly got to the point.

“What exactly are you asking of me?”

“I ask that you support His Majesty in making the right decision, Princess. And as for Orlank—though Ixor is acting as if he owns it, I’ve heard the king has not yet signed the territory confirmation. So, by law, it’s still ownerless land.”

“Orlank belongs to Ixor.”

Anna cut through Zelgirk’s ambition sharply.

“No matter how insignificant the land may be, I can’t give it to a viscount who’s done nothing to earn it.”

“All land on the continent belongs to the crown, Your Highness.”

“That’s a given.”

“So it shouldn’t matter much who governs it. I merely want compensation for losing my slave to Drewbury for seven years. I wish to own that tiny speck of Orlank.”

“Hmmm.”

“It borders my territory, so it would be easy to manage… And how could I forget your generosity? Whatever Your Highness does in the future, you’ll need someone to act as your hands and feet. I will gladly serve in that role.”

“If you truly want to show loyalty, do so without expecting anything in return, Viscount.”

Zelgirk gave a forced smile.

He must’ve thought she was just some naive girl from the palace he could easily charm and manipulate. What he didn’t know was that she met hundreds of sycophants a year, received the finest gifts, and heard countless requests.

Sensing the mood, Zelgirk quickly gave up on Orlank.

“Of course. Mentioning Orlank was just a suggestion. My only true wish is to retrieve what was originally mine, the slave girl. Alive.”

He emphasized the word and elegantly covered his severed right hand with his left.

“Alive?”

When she repeated the word with a lifted tone, Zelgirk quickly caught her meaning.

“Yes. I want her returned alive and intact. And I request that you ensure she and Ixor never meet again. Wouldn’t that be the more satisfying revenge?”

Well… if Daon were returned to Zelgirk, he could kill her any time he pleased. Might as well enjoy the game a bit.

Princess Anna smiled sweetly and agreed.

“Very well. I’ll speak to my father.”

“Thank you.”

Zelgirk bowed deeply with a beaming smile. Princess Anna picked up her teacup, feeling satisfied. Since arriving in Orlank, her simmering anger had finally started to ease.

Just when it seemed the conversation was over, Zelgirk darkened his expression.

“Your Highness, I say this out of loyalty.”

“Speak.”

“Ixor is intelligent and unusually bold. Who knows what kind of plot he may be scheming.”

“A plot? What kind?”

“Treason, perhaps…”

Anna burst into laughter, wiping away tears as if she’d just heard the year’s best joke.

Treason? Just because he didn’t want to marry a royal princess? All for a lowborn slave girl?

More importantly, Ixor didn’t even have an army large enough to stage a rebellion.

“He spent ages just taking over this little Orlank. At the palace, they even make jokes about it—how the mighty Ixor isn’t much of a fighter. Viscount, you worry too much.”

“Still, just in case, wouldn’t it be better to hold the engagement ceremony in the capital?”

“I don’t mind holding it here in Orlank.”

“Your Highness, binding Ixor properly will determine our victory. If he insists on having the ceremony in Orlank…”

“If he does?”

“Then invoke your father’s authority. If the king commands it, Ixor must obey.”

It was a needless concern, but it wasn’t a bad idea to have some insurance. And as Zelgirk said, this was Ixor they were dealing with. A rogue, unpredictable villain.

Anna ordered stationery, ink, and a quill pen, and immediately wrote a letter to her father: That the slave named Daon currently with Ixor originally belonged to Zelgirk, and the contract confirmed no discrepancies. Therefore, she requested that Daon be returned to her rightful owner. She also expressed her desire to hold the engagement ceremony in the capital.

She had her maid read it over once more, sealed it, and sent it.

“The ceremony will be held in the capital. And, as per your advice, we will depart from Orlank at the end of this month.”

“I shall make preparations as well.”

With a gesture dismissing him, Zelgirk bowed politely, looking satisfied.

Zephar furrowed his brows as he looked up at the tightly shut window of Princess Anna’s room.

Zelgirk had met with her—clearly plotting something. Ixor had left the castle under the pretext of inspecting hunting grounds. In his absence, the two had secretly met.

The whole thing left a sour feeling.

Crunch.

At the sound of footsteps on the snow, he turned to see Daon approaching, wrapped in a thick crimson cloak.

Zephar quickly brightened his expression and greeted her kindly.

The two began walking together under the heavy snowfall.

“There’s a lot of snow this year. It’s the first day of the winter festival, and yet…”

“People enjoy it more when it snows.”

“Ha, is that so? Ah, the dresses we ordered just arrived. Please try them on. We also prepared plenty of coats and gloves.”

“Yes.”

Her neat and clear answer pleased him. She firmly rejected what needed rejecting, and accepted what was necessary without hesitation.

Bold, or perhaps spirited. Wise and rational—qualities that made even the socially awkward Zephar feel at ease and enjoy talking with her.

Glancing over, he noticed Daon’s expression had changed a lot from before. Once cold and emotionless like an ice doll, she now looked calm and stable.

Then his eyes dropped…and paused.

Between her thumb and index finger was a bluish mark.

It looked like a wound from something thin and sharp.

But since he had never closely examined Daon’s body, he couldn’t be sure whether it was a mole or an injury.

“You have a mark on your hand… I don’t recall seeing it before.”

As he opened his mouth in confusion, Daon naturally raised her finger to cover it. She then tried to tuck her hand back under her cloak, but froze mid-step.

Her actions were suspicious, but Zephar first raised his head to check ahead.

“Oh? Look who it is.”

Standing in front of them was Viscount Zelgirk, wearing a hat adorned with pheasant feathers. He blatantly scanned Daon from head to toe and licked his lips.

“Isn’t this the runaway slave who abandoned her master?”

Daon said nothing, her face icy cold. She had never once exchanged words with Zelgirk, not because she was afraid to confront him, but because she despised him so thoroughly that she didn’t even see him as human.

Zephar quickly intervened in the conversation on Daon’s behalf.

“Viscount, please show some respect to the lady.”

“What?!”

“Please lower your voice. I can hear you just fine without you shouting.”

“You insolent *****! Who do you think you are, mocking a noble’s speech?”

“Then what should I do, grovel before you just because my lord isn’t present? I stand in his place when he’s absent. If my behavior is out of line, take it up with the Lord himself. I will accept any punishment deemed appropriate.”

Zelgirk’s face turned red with anger. Zephar signaled to Daon with his eyes that it was time to go. But Zelgirk was faster.

He strode over, grabbed Zephar by the collar, and spat out vile words.

“You know what? You know how much I favored this bitch?”

“Stop.”

“Huh? That place of hers, still without a single hair…”

“Enough!” Zephar cut him off, flinching in disgust.

Still, Zelgirk continued his vulgar abuse without hesitation. When he felt cornered, he resorted to attacking the most sensitive weaknesses, it was utterly disgusting.

“I was the one who made her bleed for the first time. That makes her mine. I still remember that day vividly. It was… an exquisite taste.”

Zelgirk turned his lewd eyes to Daon.

“What do you think? Do you remember?”

It was beyond horrifying, it was revolting. Zephar began his counterattack with a calm smile.

“By the way, I’m terribly sorry that we weren’t able to prepare a meal suited to your refined palate, Viscount.”

“A meal?”

“Human flesh, of course.”

Daon’s eyes widened in shock.

Seeing Zelgirk stiffen and pale, Zephar continued smoothly, his face full of false sympathy.

“It’s just that Orlank is a bit limited in size, so we couldn’t procure a young beauty to your liking. But don’t worry, we’ll make a proper announcement soon and try to find a pretty one. You prefer them young, right?”

“You… you son of a—!”

“Oh! And I heard you’re getting close with Princess Anna these days. Maybe you could enjoy such delicacies together. Who knows? Perhaps His Majesty will come to learn of your… special tastes.”

Zelgirk’s face turned crimson all the way down his neck. Zephar didn’t expect him to be punished. After all, a lord could do what he wanted with his property, but it was definitely something that could ruin him socially.

Zephar delivered the final blow.

“Uncomfortable with today’s conversation? Then I won’t repeat it. But from now on, never speak rudely to this lady again.”

Zelgirk released Zephar’s collar and quickly fled. His panicked escape, humiliated by having his secret exposed, made him look like a terrified pig.

Once he disappeared, Zephar exhaled deeply and apologized.

“I’m sorry you had to hear something so unpleasant because of me.”

Daon gently reached out and straightened the collar of his crumpled shirt, the very one Zelgirk had grabbed. It was the first time she had touched someone other than Ixor. Zephar felt a pang in his chest and his mood lifted.

Daon also sincerely apologized.

“I’m sorry I caused such a scene.”

An elegant woman.

She didn’t display overwhelming grief in front of others, instead showing a dignified restraint that was noble and beautiful.

Zephar gave a small smile and continued guiding the way. But Daon didn’t follow immediately. She stopped and asked a question.

“Does he know too?”

“He? You mean our lord? About what…”

Her silent gaze met his—those dark eyes seemed deep, as if moist. Surrounded by the softly falling snow, she looked incredibly fragile.

Zephar nodded, uneasy.

“Yes. He knows.”

She had asked if Ixor knew about Zelgirk receiving girls from pirates, cannibalizing, torturing them. Whether he knew what kind of past she had endured.

She lowered her gaze, then turned her head away to look up at the gray sky. But soon she hid her inner darkness and returned to her usual indifferent expression.

She quietly walked beside him, and Zephar stifled a sigh.

Seeing her today, he realized, if something happened while she was alone with someone like Zelgirk, she would never speak of it.

She wasn’t the type to tattletale, nor would she sully herself by stooping to her abuser’s level. The dirtier they got, the more she seemed to rise above it.

And Zephar was thankful for that. Dragging Ixor into petty feuds with Princess Anna or Zelgirk would have made things dangerously complicated. She was smart enough to know that better than anyone.

Crunch.

Snow crumbled beneath their feet.

Daon had been meeting with Princess Anna occasionally. Nothing serious, and it wasn’t a secret, she even told him directly. They talked and had tea, but who knew what else happened?

It didn’t seem like she was physically harmed. Anna wouldn’t be so obvious. Still…

Zephar forced his heavy heart to calm. Just in case, he decided he would speak to Ixor.

 

***

 

“Ah! What a lively party this is!”

Ixor approached with a cheerful smile and took off his thick cloak. The knight, Renaud, who had followed behind, gave a respectful nod to Daon before quietly stepping away.

Warming the cloak by the roaring fire, Ixor draped it over Daon’s shoulders, pulling her into a one-armed hug.

“Not cold?”

“No,” she said with a bright smile and laughing eyes.

Every time she smiled like that, it sent waves of joy through his chest.

The plaza was alive with the first festival since Ixor had taken over Drewbury from the previous lord. The smell of roasting meat hung heavy in the air, barrels of ale overflowed, and people danced and laughed around huge bonfires.

Adults sipped their drinks contentedly, children bounced around, and young men carrying torches danced with rosy-cheeked maidens adorned with ribbons. Lords didn’t usually attend village festivals, so the whole town buzzed with a special thrill.

Especially this year, as new laws had improved living standards and people were hopeful for the future. Ixor generously supplied food and drink for the occasion, adding to the excitement.

Ixor and Daon stayed close together as they watched the winter festivities. They strolled through the plaza, met the townspeople, and ate humble festival food together.

Only when the moon was high did they leave the village. Holding hands tightly, they walked slowly back to the castle, accompanied by the cries of owls. Her face looked the same, but there was a shadow in her eyes.

Anna had come. Zelgirk had come…

He wanted to lock Daon in a tall tower where no one could reach her. No, more than that—he wanted no one to even see her. He wanted to possess her entirely. He craved it madly every day.

Hiding his feelings, he swung her hand playfully as they walked and suddenly asked,

“Sing for me.”

“I can’t sing,” she said.

He remembered the song she once hummed while bathing, a tune from her homeland. It had sounded cheerful. He tilted his head innocently and prodded her.

“Hmm-hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm-hmm. Isn’t that how it started? I think I heard it somewhere on my travels.”

“Oh…”

Gotcha. You remember.

“All right, then! After her triumphant continental tour, the finest bard in Orlank, Miss Daon, will now perform a song for us!”

Daon nudged his side playfully, telling him to stop joking. Ixor grinned and coaxed her.

“There’s no one around. Come on. I just want to hear your voice.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she began singing in a clear voice. Though the lyrics were foreign, the tune was lively, and the chorus repeated often enough for him to learn it quickly and join in.

Once, twice—they sang louder each time, and soon they were shouting the lyrics in a playful competition.

Their voices echoed joyfully under the glassy winter sky. Daon burst into laughter.

Lately, she’d been reacting more quickly. In the past, she would’ve held back her emotions, but now she laughed right away. It made him uneasy. Perhaps she was trying too hard, worried he’d be concerned about Anna and Zelgirk.

That meant she was hiding something.

Ixor suddenly lifted Daon into his arms and continued walking.

“Are your legs hurting a lot?”

He asked casually. She flinched at the question.

It seemed she had injured her leg somewhere but assumed no one would notice if she kept quiet. Even earlier, when she took the plate of food, her fingers had moved a bit stiffly.

Ixor continued his questioning as if joking.

“Where did you get hurt?”

“I stepped on something wrong.”

“Oh ho. So it’s not just a sprain, then.”

“…”

“You stepped on… what exactly?”

“A sharp stone.”

“And your hand?”

His eyes were sharp enough to send chills down her spine.

“You tripped on a sharp stone and then stabbed your hand on another sharp stone?”

Daon laughed like a child and hugged his neck, an obvious signal to stop asking. Ixor immediately loosened his upper body and arms.

“Whoa! My lady, you weigh quite a bit, don’t you?”

Blushing, Daon tried to get down, but he quickly lifted her even higher.

He took a few exaggerated steps left and right, shaking his arms, then bent over dramatically as if she were unbearably heavy.

Daon let out a scream and laughter at the same time.

“Now. If you don’t answer my questions, I’ll keep teasing you. Where exactly did you hurt your hands and feet?”

“I’ve been dizzy lately… sometimes I stumble.”

“Dizzy?”

“Yes. I feel a bit lightheaded.”

He could tell she wasn’t lying. Lately, she’d seemed more exhausted, even during s*x. Still feeling uneasy, he kept pressing her.

“Are you hiding something from me?”

“No.”

“Keeping anything secret?”

“…”

“Anything secret?”

She shook her head and buried her face in his neck. Her body was warm, and she seemed noticeably tired.

Ixor kissed her on the forehead and ended the conversation.

“You must be exhausted. I’ll escort you safely to the bedroom.”

He had gotten a report from Zephar the previous day. She had met with Zelgirk and suffered a vile humiliation.

Rage burned so deep within him that he felt like he could explode at any moment. Holding her asleep in his arms, he embraced her tightly.

Not yet… Yes, not yet. He was still holding back.

But his patience was fraying fast, and each day felt like an eternity.

 

***

In a dark room without even a candle lit, Zelgirk glared out at the castle courtyard.

Ixor had just entered the gate with Daon in his arms.

Grinding his teeth, Zelgirk gripped the window frame tightly. He had deliberately provoked Princess Anna to force Ixor to return to the royal palace.

Since it was for an engagement ceremony, Ixor couldn’t take too many knights or soldiers. Naturally, he would be accompanied by only a few men.

It was the perfect opportunity—an unmissable chance to kill Ixor. He had already hired brutal pirates for the job.

Zelgirk, who had been giggling wickedly, suddenly froze.

How could he possibly know?

Ixor had stopped and was staring straight up at him. Though the room was dark and the distance considerable, and Zelgirk was hidden within, it felt like Ixor could see him.

The moonlight reflected in Ixor’s eyes gave off a demonic blue glow, filled with merciless and deadly intent.

Zelgirk slowly ducked and stepped back from the window. Cold sweat dripped down his neck and his heart pounded.

After several deep breaths, he peeked outside again—but the snowy courtyard was already empty.

Trying to hide his rising fear, Zelgirk cursed aloud in a harsh tone.

“*****! Just wait and see.”

 

***

 

He needed to break a sweat.

He needed to bleed out the heat boiling in his veins and cool his head.

From early morning, Ixor sparred continuously with Sir Renaud to work off his energy.

The bitter cold and clash of blades slowly began to soothe his mood. But it wasn’t enough.

Around lunchtime, while he was still fully focused, an interruption came.

With his sword resting on his shoulder, Ixor turned around.

“Lady Daon is missing,” Zephar said cautiously. His expression was grave.

It meant something serious had happened. So serious that Zephar couldn’t even wait for the sword practice to end. Sir Renaud quietly stepped aside.

“Since when?” Ixor asked with a frozen stare.

“She moves so naturally and quietly that I didn’t suspect anything at first. I only began to doubt things two days ago…”

“Where does she go?”

“Well…”

“You? Reporting without confirming anything? Speak.”

“My lord.”

“She’s out even now?”

Zephar took a deep breath and changed the subject.

“It’s an important time, my lord. A wrong move could ruin everything. If something goes wrong, we all might die.”

“Where is she?”

“I suggest we move Lady Daon somewhere outside the castle. What about the safe Garion?”

“Where is she!”

Zephar shut his mouth, face pale. Without another word, Ixor turned and started walking quickly toward the castle. Zephar ran to catch up, speaking urgently.

“I could be wrong. Maybe they’re just talking. Let’s just observe a bit more…”

No sound came out. The growing worry and fury left him speechless.

Nothing was visible. His mind was so tense it felt like it exploded with a thousand thoughts at once.

In front of him, someone’s hair fluttered roughly in the cold wind. Ixor stared straight ahead with frozen eyes. Zephar shouted orders urgently to the servants.

“Call the knights! Bring them all immediately!”

Ixor crossed the courtyard in a straight line and pushed open the thick door with his left hand.

He strode into the castle and made straight for Princess Anna’s quarters. Two maids were standing guard outside.

As soon as they saw Ixor, their eyes widened and one of them reached for the door. She was trying to knock to alert those inside.

Ixor’s glare froze her in place. He approached, and the terrified maids collapsed and crawled out of the way. Zephar said something behind him, but Ixor didn’t hear.

“My lord! Please wait a moment…”

Ixor shoved Zephar aside and grabbed the doorknob.

“Hey, isn’t this wrong? Or does this not hurt?”

Princess Anna’s voice was filled with irritation. Seven needles of varying sizes were laid out on a purple tea table. After some thought, Princess Anna gave a curt nod.

“Alright. Let’s change the spot.”

The maids lifted Daon’s chin.

A watching maid tried to intervene, worried.

“Her face is something Sir Ixor always looks at…”

“She can explain herself. If she wants her sachet and ring back, that is. I want to hear this ***** scream.”

Princess Anna replied casually.

Daon’s body jerked. She felt like she was going to vomit as if someone had pressed her solar plexus hard. She hurriedly covered her mouth with both hands and held her breath.

Princess Anna looked pleased.

“Hmph, so she does care about her face.”

Daon, sweating coldly, pressed her forehead to the carpet. The nausea wouldn’t go away. Maybe it was from stress.

Lately, her body felt heavy and feverish. Since yesterday, a dull ache had settled in her lower abdomen.

While she was limp and dazed, the maids held up her face. Sweat beaded on her forehead and rolled down her chin.

Her vision blurred. She could barely see. Taking a few deep breaths, she blinked several times—and finally noticed that the needle tip was near her eye.

“Not the eyes,” she said in a calm voice.