The herbs that the Grand Duke primarily burned, like sleepwort and a few others, displayed stronger symptoms of addiction when he stopped and then resumed using them.
That wasn’t the only thing that raised questions. Driene couldn’t stop questioning himself. Why had he come all the way to Rosenta? Why had he so easily mentioned death?
And all those thoughts ended with the question of why he was so curious about such matters.
Some might say that he was attributing too much meaning to what was merely a question, but Driene’s inquiries had never been preceded by hatred or anger.
Searching for reasons and intentions was an effort to understand the other person, and Driene didn’t extend such consideration to those he despised.
So when Kinas Nasant ultimately took his sister away, Driene stopped trying to uncover his intentions.
He should feel the same way now; he could simply obtain what he wanted and then close his eyes to it all.
Yet, no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t just let it go.
In the end, he asked, “Why my sister?”
He knew well what the other person would say. Surely he would mutter something about love that was impossible. Driene had seen enough of that kind of person.
Even knowing that, he asked the question because he wanted to understand the context.
As far as he knew, Juliet and the Grand Duke had first met at the Rosenta Palace. It was during the autumn of the year Juliet turned eighteen when a delegation came from Nasant.
After accepting an absurd proposal, Juliet confessed that she had secretly met him in the garden. She had thought he was just one of the attendants who had come with the royal procession and had hidden him away to talk, and Driene could still vividly recall his sister’s tear-streaked face as she cried about it.
Did he fall in love with her back then? Even thinking about it, there were parts that didn’t make sense.
First of all, at that time, his sister was just an eighteen-year-old girl.
Driene believed that Juliet was the most radiant among all girls her age, but physical appearance wasn’t the only thing necessary to capture someone’s heart.
Even if he had fallen in love, there must have been something else that led him to make such hasty decisions.
Driene had no intention of sending Juliet out of the country, but if she insisted on going, he had no plans to stop her.
If the Grand Duke truly wanted her, he should have sent a letter or visited a few more times to win the girl’s heart.
However, Kinas Nasant had pushed for their marriage as if someone would die if they weren’t united immediately.
The Grand Duke must have been behind that.
In conclusion, it was a foolish act. As a result, Juliet had grown to dislike the Grand Duke entirely.
It wasn’t just her feelings that had changed. Driene recalled the days when he had vowed several times to take the man’s life.
Although that anger had been refined over time, it still lingered.
It was more rational to believe that the Grand Duke had seized his sister for reasons other than love.
But who would risk their life for someone they didn’t truly care for?
Even if he did have feelings, it wouldn’t make a difference.
How deep could their relationship really be? His sister treated the man as if he were a nonexistent person most of the time.
But why?
He had seen countless people babble nonsensically when in love, but this kind of contextless and self-destructive behavior was something new.
So, Driene asked, even though he roughly anticipated the man’s answer.
However, the Grand Duke, who seemed likely to respond, fell silent with a pale face. Through that expression, Driene realized that he had struck a nerve.
A peculiar persistence surged within him.
He fixed his gaze on the rigid man and asked again.
“Tell me. Why was it my sister?”
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The eyes of the person asking the question were clear.
Through those eyes, Enoch realized that Driene’s question was not framed in a context of condemnation.
On the contrary, he looked perplexed. He tried to confront the deep green gaze while contemplating.
It would have been better if what was contained within him had been anger or resentment.
In such a situation, he could simply keep his mouth shut. After all, the other person was looking for a place to vent their feelings, not a real answer. All he had to do was endure in silence.
However, Driene was genuinely asking.
Just like Juliet once did.
“Why did you do this?”
At that time, Juliet had been angry and felt wronged, but her green eyes were filled with a transparent question.
Enoch clearly saw that, yet he couldn’t respond to her words. He believed it was better for her to hate him without knowing the truth than to know and still hate him.
For him, the greatest disaster during that period was Juliet discovering all the facts.
If her eyes, once filled with affection, were to become as coldly contemptuous as the beheaded Emperor’s when she learned about his family, his blood, and his curse…
Ah, that would be despair.
Of course, despair was a predetermined future, regardless of his silence, but at that time, Enoch was unaware of that fact, so he unconditionally kept his mouth shut.
But now he knew.
Juliet despised him. Her green eyes held the same light as the hazel pupils he had faced countless times in the past.
The deceased Emperor had also looked at Letina with those same eyes.
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“Disgusting.”
The Emperor, intoxicated by pleasure with women by his side, often summoned Letina or her child to say so.
“Look at those blue eyes. I hate those eyes.”
When the Emperor said that, one of the women lying beside him replied as if it were predetermined.
“Oh my, why? They’re big and sparkling; they’re beautiful.”
“Foolish. Those eyes are the eyes of greed. They’re just like the eyes of the cruel and selfish dragon from long ago.”
Every time Enoch heard such words, he couldn’t understand the Emperor. He was not even ten years old, but he had eyes.
And through those eyes, it was clear that the cruel and selfish one was not the dragon but the Emperor himself.
Indulgent and ignorant of luxury, he squandered the national treasury solely for his own sake.
The Emperor didn’t listen to the lives outside the palace nor respect the opinions of his ministers.
It was always Letina who refilled the treasury he had emptied and tidied up the situation to ensure his authority was not undermined. Letina, who had blue eyes just like Enoch.
Therefore, Enoch could not comprehend the Emperor’s disdain for blue eyes.
One day, he even asked Letina. ‘Mother, why does His Majesty say such things to me?’
“Why is he doing that?”
That was truly a significant question. Every time Enoch was summoned before the Emperor, he felt humiliation and shame, and the more negative feelings he experienced, the more he wondered why the Emperor behaved that way.
Certainly, he has other siblings in the palace, but the Emperor did not treat them in that manner.
“Is it because I don’t resemble His Majesty?”
This was a question that arose from thinking that the only difference between him and his half siblings was their appearances.
The Emperor had shared certain affections with his other children.
They all had red hair or hazel eyes. Some had both.
But Enoch looked just like his mother, Letina. This was not merely referring to the color of his hair and eyes.
Enoch resembled her in every way—her hands, her gaze, her lips, and even the expressions they occasionally shared.
Among the palace children, none resembled their mothers as much as he did.
Though she usually showed little interest, Letina would furrow her brow as if feeling sorry for him when he asked such questions and would open her arms to embrace him.
“Oh, my poor son. It’s all because of me.”
Whenever she said that, her voice always trembled slightly.
Though Enoch didn’t fully understand the emotions contained within, he still often asked the same questions. It was inevitable since Letina would not look at him otherwise.
At the end of Letina’s gaze, there was always the Emperor. She lived with the same words on her lips: Eben, Eben. Your Majesty, Your Majesty. Will you look this way today? Tomorrow, will you look this way?
The Emperor, who lived solely to hurt her, would take other women into his embrace and father new illegitimate children, yet Letina always clung to him.
Enoch found that fact sad. Like most children with their mothers, he loved Letina and was ready to rationalize even her indifference.
As he grew older, he began to resent the Emperor, who belittled Letina and treated her like a cheap object. Even then, the Emperor would summon either Letina or himself when drunk, and each time, Enoch felt that the hurt his mother received weighed more than his own shame and contempt.
But Letina did not even care about his worries.
