Instead, he let out a small laugh, a sound almost like a groan.
After laughing for a moment, Driene spoke.
“Do you like old stories? My sister enjoys them. Maybe it’s because I read them to her often since she was little; it’s a cute hobby.”
Enoch hadn’t known this. Juliet wasn’t the type to share much with him, and he wasn’t particularly perceptive.
Of course, Driene didn’t need his answer, so the conversation continued smoothly.
“There is an old tale passed down in our royal family. Or perhaps it should be called a curse. You might have heard of it—the illness of the princesses.”
Now Enoch understood what he was trying to say.
Driene was referring to the illness that Juliet was suffering from, the one that was draining her body and causing her to cough up blood.
For some time, Enoch had been trying to uncover the cause of that illness. He had gathered all the information he knew and had made several inquiries in the capital.
However, hearing that it was hereditary was new to him, so Enoch quietly listened to his words. Driene continued without waiting for his response.
“The illness typically manifests around the age of twenty. The princesses of Rosenta have suffered from it for generations. Occasionally, some fortunate ones have escaped it, but such cases are rare. Once the illness reveals itself, there’s no remedy. They simply wither away over time and die within a couple of years.”
“……”
“However, since we don’t know what would happen if this fact were to come to light, the royal family has kept the illness hidden. It wasn’t difficult, considering the princesses lived either within the palace or on the autonomous island. Although it’s an old illness, it’s not easy to keep completely hidden, but I suppose you, as a noble from another country, are hearing this for the first time.”
Indeed, my sister was right. The man murmured bitterly as he lifted his teacup.
“There’s been no discovery regarding the cause of the illness. Only a tale from long ago speaks of a pact with a dragon, but who would believe such a fairy tale? The princesses, already rare in number, have died before reaching thirty. Once the illness manifests, there’s no way to cure it, so it was only natural.”
Driene set down his cup. Enoch looked at the man’s face reflected in the reddish tea. He couldn’t tell if he was being blamed or if Driene was merely recounting history.
Driene continued before Enoch could read anything more into his words.
“Then, just once, the princess’s illness seemed to have healed. It was when Juliet turned sixteen. She was never very healthy, but around that time, she was particularly thin. We thought it was just because of the heat. Everyone knows how hot the sun was that summer.”
A hint of tenderness flickered in the man’s eyes as he recalled the past. Enoch realized that Driene was recalling his sister’s childhood.
If it were the usual him, he would have wanted to hear more about it. But now, his attention was focused on something else.
It was understandable, as Driene’s words were significant.
“However, she began to complain of chest pain. That’s when I understood. The illness of the princesses had also affected my sister.”
…Didn’t it sound like Juliet had fallen ill in the past?
Yet now she is over twenty. Enoch remembered that Juliet had celebrated her twenty-first birthday earlier this year.
If, as Driene said, she had contracted the illness at sixteen, they would never have met.
The words didn’t add up. Enoch hesitated for a moment.
Driene gestured for him to hold his thoughts. Please listen to the end.
“Of course, I was devastated. Juliet was my sister, but she was like my first child. I had raised her without ever letting her go.”
How could he let such a child die? Driene lowered his gaze. The man’s green pupils settled in a way similar to his sister’s.
“I clung to the hope of curing her, even knowing there was none. I sought precious herbs and consulted countless medical texts and renowned doctors.”
But nothing could save Juliet.
The weight of those words was pitiful. Enoch understood that feeling. There had been a time when he too realized his own powerlessness.
Driene continued.
“As time passed, Juliet lost her vitality. She didn’t even know what illness she had. I had kept it from her. I made her believe that her illness was just a seasonal epidemic that she would suffer through for a summer.”
“That’s—”
“I know, it was a lie. But rather than giving her despair, it was better to deceive her. For my sister, who knew nothing, I searched everywhere. I brought all sorts of precious things to the palace and even wrote letters to the monarchs of allied nations. That’s how I met your brother.”
Kinas. At Driene’s words, Enoch thought of the man who was in the palace. He knew that Kinas had met the Crown Prince of Rosenta.
It was because of their meeting that reinforcements had come from Rosenta. Enoch had led that army to the capital.
But the story he was hearing now was something he hadn’t known.
Enoch had never been curious about the dealings that had taken place between them.
The other continued speaking.
“Now, the fourth prince, who has become the Emperor of Nasant, wrote to me. He claimed to possess the most precious thing in the world. Perhaps this could cure your sister’s illness—he said.”
Driene’s face twisted in anger. He hated Kinas. In fact, he loathed all of those brothers.
“I didn’t believe him, but I was curious about how he knew of my sister’s illness. I hadn’t even clearly told my wife about it. She thought Juliet was just suffering from a seasonal epidemic. If the news had leaked out, I would have had to catch the informant, so I summoned him to the palace.”
A flicker of contempt passed through his green eyes. It was directed primarily at the other person but secondarily at himself.
“Then your brother offered me a deal. He said he would use what he had to cure my sister’s illness and, in return, he wanted me to send troops. It was an unbelievable request, but I told him to show me what he had. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check whatever it was. And your brother showed me something I had never seen before.”
Do you know what that was?
The man looked at him and asked.
It was a question he couldn’t answer, even if he had known. Enoch realized he would have remained silent regardless.
Seeing him silent, Driene smiled—a beautiful, cold smile that resembled his sister’s.
“It was your mother’s heart,” his brother-in-law said with a dark smile.
The Grand Duke didn’t get angry or deny it upon hearing those words.
Instead, he fell silent. Driene stared at the beautiful face and blue eyes inside it, like a person in a portrait. The man was already famous for resembling his mother. So perhaps this inscrutable expression was also inherited from her.
Driene had never seen the Grand Duke’s mother. The woman who lived as the Empress of Nasant and died young had certainly caused many upheavals in international affairs, yet strangely, there had never been an occasion for them to meet directly.
Nevertheless, her traces remained even years later. Driene recalled the day he first encountered the heart of the deceased empress.
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Though it was called a heart, what lay before him that day resembled something that came from the earth rather than a human body.
Driene still remembered the man with red hair and violet eyes. The small object shining transparently under the lantern was oval-shaped and matched the color of the man’s eyes perfectly.
It looked to be about the size of a finger joint and was unmistakably a gem, but Driene had never seen a gem like it in his life. Despite having encountered all kinds of jewels thanks to his sister’s fondness for beautiful things, none had ever looked like that.
Normally, he would have found it fascinating. There were two women around him who suited rare treasures well. Iasonia was more interested in land than jewelry, but still.
However, at that moment, what he needed was not some gem, so Driene scoffed at the man. Even if he presented the world’s rarest elixir, her life was still in danger.
To waste time on such trivialities was absurd.
“You’ve brought something useless.”
With a cold evaluation, Driene averted his gaze and called for the attendant by his side. Nanisa. The servant, having understood the master’s intent, stood behind the man.
“Please rise.”
Though he was a guest, the tone was respectful but not polite. After all, the moment he stepped out the door, he would descend into the underground. It was a natural consequence for someone who had conspired with a traitor.
Driene waited for the man to express his indignation at such treatment. Perhaps he would pale in shock. He had a slightly warped personality and took a certain pleasure in others’ discomfort.
However, the man spoke calmly, as if he felt nothing.
“It begins with weakness, gradually leads to coughing up blood, and ultimately ends in death.”
It was an aimless statement, but everyone present understood.
Driene stared directly at the man who dared to mention his sister’s death. The other met his fiery green gaze without flinching. It was the characteristic yellow and red eyes of the Nasant royal family.
“It’s best for you to keep quiet for the sake of the future.”
The more he spoke, the rougher the treatment he would receive. The underground of the Crown Prince’s palace was not a warm place.
Yet the man did not stop.
“I’ve heard it’s an incurable disease, so you have no choice but to give up, is that correct?”
“You’re not afraid, but you should be. If I were to cut off the head of his own son, the Emperor of Nasant wouldn’t say a word.”
The current emperor was famous for his lack of infidelity. They didn’t even bother counting how many illegitimate children he had, and the son born from his lawful wife had been banished to the far north.
Now that even the lawful wife was dead, the state of the imperial family was a sight to behold. Already, various powerful figures were pushing their daughters forward.
The death of a prince without even a decent aide would easily be buried among all that.
In fact, Driene had planned for that. The reason he had summoned the man all the way to Rosenta was precisely for that purpose. To deal with it cleanly.
However, if he continued to be a nuisance, he would have no choice but to silence him here. There was no need to keep him alive, as it wouldn’t hinder the task of rooting out spies.
The servant, having read the master’s intent, placed a hand on the scabbard. Driene glanced at her, signaling that it was fine to draw.
With a sound like a whisper, the blade separated the two.
