Episode 104

I couldn’t understand why Aiden was acting this way.

I wasn’t at odds with Lothania, his master under the oath, nor was Lothania in any danger. So why was he so on edge?

When Aiden turned his head again to avoid my gaze, I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

Lothania glanced between us, her expression hesitant, as though she’d done something wrong.

It was Lian who broke the silence and offered an explanation.

“For beasts, love is forbidden. Loving someone more than their master is considered a form of betrayal.”

“Loving me is a betrayal of Lothania?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Even more so because he has obeyed your orders over his master’s. That’s why the eagle cannot lower his blade. And if I still had strength, I’d feel the same—an overwhelming urge to snap the dog’s neck. Right now, that fool likely wishes to destroy himself more than anything.”

“What?”

Instinctively, I turned to Aiden. He still stood there, avoiding my gaze.

Looking closer, I noticed how tense his shoulders were, his jaw clenched tight as if he were grinding his teeth.

What was he trying so desperately to suppress?

I turned away, afraid that if I kept looking, I might start crying.

But Lian wasn’t faring any better. Gasping for breath as though in pain, his sweat-drenched face turned deathly pale.

Vitrain, who had remained on edge and ready to draw his sword, spoke next, picking up where Lian had left off.

“It wasn’t fear of our masters that kept us from betraying them, Your Majesty. It was our inability to overcome the murderous intent directed at ourselves. The deeper his feelings, the harder it is for him to endure.”

Vitrain’s lone blue eye burned with conflicted emotions as he glared at Aiden.

It was clear that his concern for Aiden warred with the murderous impulses stirred by the oath’s restraints, leaving him deeply unsettled.

Even amidst the chaos, I realized there was little I could do. So I turned to the only one who could calm the beasts.

“Lottie. What do you think about sending Lian and Vitrain back for now?”

Startled by the unexpected situation, Lothania quickly came to her senses at my words. She nodded and issued an order to Vitrain.

“Duke Kidmillan, return home until I summon you again.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Vitrain replied, his relief evident as he bowed.

After he left without looking back, Lothania turned her attention to Lian and asked, “There’s still something I need to know. What exactly was the curse you placed on Aunt Bonita?”

At her question, Lian bowed his head.

Even after clearing his throat, his voice came out raspy, metallic.

“‘A son of Luminal can become a Luminal.’ That is what I told the Marchioness of Senwood.”

A son of Luminal can become a Luminal.

It was a cunning and clever curse—one that avoided self-directed harm while achieving his desires.

I could almost imagine how those words might have driven the mother mad. A former imperial princess, cast out of the royal family, desperate to give her son what she herself had been denied.

Lothania fell silent, deep in thought.

After a long pause, she looked at the barely standing Lian and asked, “Did you resent my father? Because he was your master, binding you with the oath?”

“Beasts cannot hate or resent their master, Your Highness. If I felt anything for him, it would have been fear. I watched how the previous dog was broken.”

For the first time, Lian spoke his truth—honest words that could not be lies under the oath.

It wasn’t that Nerian, Lothania’s father and their former master, had been particularly cruel.

The mere fact that someone existed who could shake his life against his will must have been terrifying.

And tied to that existence was the fate of his only cherished person—his brother.

Lothania, unable to face him any longer, turned her gaze away from Lian and said quietly, “…Return to the prison.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

After Lian left the room, Lothania remained still for a long time, her head bowed.

There was nothing I could do but hold her hand as she silently swallowed her emotions.

Who had killed Emperor Nerian?

Was it the treacherous serpent he had raised, the sister blinded by ambition, or the curse of the Luminal family, passed down under the name of the oath?

A tear fell from Lothania’s eye onto the back of my hand.

When she finally spoke, her voice was strained and raw, as though forced out.

“Father… Father was a good man, Mother.”

I gestured to Aiden, who stood motionless like a statue, and pulled Lothania into my arms.

Thankfully, Aiden stepped back without needing a command from his master.

Lothania buried her face in my embrace and began to cry.

As I gently patted her back, I murmured, “Of course, His Majesty was a good man.”

Lothania shook her head in distress, tears streaming down her face.

Through her sobs, she confessed that she knew what her father, Nerian—so kind to her—had done to the former dog. She knew about the horrifying event that Lian had witnessed when he was fifteen.

“My father was a good man, a really, really good man…” she choked out, her voice trembling with sorrow. Yet she understood the fear Lian had described.

If only Lian or Bonita had been evil from start to finish, she would have had someone to blame, someone to hate.

If that had been the case, this child wouldn’t be crying so bitterly now.

I gently stroked her back as she sobbed, waiting for her tears to subside, though the weight in my chest grew heavier with each passing moment.

Even though I had known this day would come eventually, seeing my still-young daughter shed such painful tears was heartbreaking.

After crying until her throat must have ached, Lothania slowly calmed herself and gazed up at me.

“What if Mel fears me too, Mother?”

I brushed her tear-soaked hair back and smiled deliberately, trying to lighten the mood.

“That won’t happen, Lottie. Remember, we’ve decided to get rid of the marks of the oath.”

“You’re right, Mother. It’s better without the chains of the oath.”

Sniffling, Lothania nodded firmly.

She had vowed to find and destroy the marks of the oath—not just for the dog and the snake, but for the eagle as well.

After seeing the three of them—no, the three beasts—today, I was convinced of it too.

Whatever the intentions behind the oath forged between Barbados I and the three beasts long ago, an oath that only bound and restricted them had no place in this world.

Lothania wiped her face roughly with her damp sleeve and stood up.

“Sorry, Mother. I have somewhere I need to be.”

“You’re going to Melbrid, aren’t you? Go ahead, Lottie. We can talk again later.”

“I’ll come to the Empress’s palace by dinnertime.”

Her nose still red from crying, Lothania waved before dashing out of the drawing room.

Left alone in the quiet room, I gathered myself before standing up.

As I walked toward the door, the absence of the familiar hand that always held mine struck me deeply.

But there was nothing I could do about it now.

Until Lothania destroyed the marks of the oath, Aiden was not my lover—he was the Empire’s dog.

The one he was bound to protect was not me, but his master, Lothania.

For now, I resolved to return to my office, finish the documents I had left, and retire early for the night.

With each step, I pressed my emotions down, making my way to the door.

When I opened it, I found Aiden standing there.

I had thought he had gone with Lothania.

When I looked up at him, his crimson eyes met mine briefly before he lowered them.

Instead, he extended his hand.

The gesture was awkward, almost hesitant, as if it were his first time offering his hand. Yet it was unmistakably the same hand that had always held mine.

“Her Highness has ordered me to guard Your Majesty.”

His tone was different than usual, yet his voice was so familiar.

Despite all the tears I had held back while comforting Lothania, they now spilled down my cheeks.

I felt a pang of sadness and longing, yet also a sense of relief.

It hurt to know that this was the only way I could reach him, but I was also grateful that I could still take his hand, even like this.

Noticing my tears, Aiden’s expression stiffened.

His crimson eyes darkened, as though ignited, and the large hand he had offered began to tremble.

He clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles white and veins bulging as he let out a pained sigh.

Afraid that my tears might be causing him distress, I quickly wiped them away with the back of my hand.

But before I could react further, Aiden pulled me into his arms without warning.

“Please… don’t cry,” he murmured.

His voice was muffled and thick, like the anguished sound of a beast suppressing its own sobs.