Chapter 22
“Chloe, did you really love me? Did you ever love me?”
Luke Olfenster brought up an old concern he hadn’t dwelled on in a long time. Did Chloe Langsher truly love him?
He fidgeted with an old locket that had long since lost its original form, opening and closing it. He had done this so often over the years that even a light touch would open it now. Inside, an adult portrait of him still smiled, knowing what lay behind this portrait, he slowly mulled over his thoughts.
Chloe Langsher knew who Luke Olfenster was. Yet, she allowed herself to be deceived. Why? Was it because she really loved him? Or was it because she didn’t love him at all?
Lying on the sofa, he stared at the ceiling. A half-burned Langsher family crest hung from the ceiling’s edge. Burned, worn, or damaged. He had scraped together everything so desperately, yet this was all there was. And even this couldn’t fill a single room. At this point, he started to doubt, maybe Troy Langsher had known this would happen to him. Otherwise, it shouldn’t have been so hard to gather the relics of that once great family after its collapse. They must have left things astray until the very end.
“What do you think, Chloe?”
Naturally, there was no response. He reached out to the table from the sofa, grabbing a frame that his hand randomly touched. Seventeen-year-old Chloe was smiling in it. The short-haired girl in a brown dress, the same color as her hair, was an image he didn’t know. He had only known Chloe as a child and as an adult. He didn’t know how she grew up, what kind of girl she was, what education she received, or who her first love was…
No, let’s not go there.
Probably, her first love was himself. It had to be. No, let’s be sure. Chloe Langsher’s first love was definitely Luke Olfenster. Unless a dead man came back to life to argue otherwise, he wouldn’t change this notion.
“If you think it’s unfair, say it yourself. Then I’ll reconsider.”
“That’s mean.”
In his imagination, young Chloe grumbled, her eyes drooping sadly and her cheeks puffed out. He caressed the frame and chuckled quietly.
“You’re the mean one, Chloe.”
“Why?”
“You were the one who first told me you loved me. Knowing who I was.”
In his mind, Chloe was avoiding his gaze, blushing shyly. It was certainly a mad thought, but at least while imagining this, he felt somewhat okay. Even if it made him feel more miserable once the fantasy ended, it was unavoidable.
His life was miserable anyway, so what did a little more misery matter for a brief respite?
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“I only need you. I don’t need my father or any other family. It’s okay that you killed them all, so love me, tell me I’m the only one, look only at me, think only of me, just…”
Ah.
This had gone too far.
This wasn’t Chloe. The Chloe in his imagination suddenly stopped crying. Luke imagined her face now smeared with tears and full of resentment.
“Why are you doing this to me? Do you hate me that much? I just liked you…”
“Then you shouldn’t have died, Chloe.”
“It wasn’t what I wanted. You know that. I wanted to live.”
Lies.
“I wanted to live with you…”
Covering his face, he laughed. This was clearly a lie. Even when they were lovers, Chloe Langsher was a woman who wouldn’t consider a future with him even as a mere courtesy. These were sweet words only possible in his fantasies.
Laughing at himself for a while until he was breathless, he finally emerged from his imagination.
Then he noticed the long-haired brunette child sitting on a chair near the door. Despite the emperor’s actions, which must have seemed insane, Sylvia didn’t even flinch. Of course, the emperor was no different. He slowly got up and leaned back on the sofa.
“…Princess.”
Sylvia, who had been looking at the late empress’s well-worn diary, was finally agitated. Although the emperor had tacitly allowed her to wander this room, both of them had acted as if the other didn’t exist while coming and going.
But now that the emperor had called her, Sylvia couldn’t avoid responding.
“Yes, Your Majesty…!”
Her high-pitched voice cracked suddenly, clearing her throat, Sylvia approached the emperor, unsure of how deranged the emperor was, she stopped at a cautious distance. He asked,
“Do you like the new maid?”
He was asking about Marie. While Sylvia hesitated over how to answer, he asked again,
“Why didn’t you torment her?”
The emperor knew Sylvia’s nature. Though he wasn’t particularly interested in her, he was aware that she wasn’t a pleasant child. It wasn’t surprising, as becoming a good-natured person was almost impossible without going mad if you grew up as an orphan in the palace.
“She’s frail… I was afraid something might happen.”
Sylvia responded as gently and kindly as possible. Why did Chloe Langsher have to grow up as an innocent lady and trouble her even after death?
She wasn’t even that pretty. Sylvia glanced at the frames on the table, thinking of Marie’s face.
Silver hair is more beautiful and glamorous than common brown hair.
Still convinced that Marie Edant’s white hair was silver, Sylvia raised her voice deliberately, aware of the emperor’s attention.
“And she’s Sir Edant’s wife! Even I don’t want to cross Sir Edant, He’s such an excellent knight.”
The emperor found Sylvia’s chatter intriguing. As Sylvia prattled on about how the new maid was tolerable despite her shortcomings, the emperor suddenly laughed. The situation was bizarre.
“You really like her, don’t you? So much that you’re afraid others will know.”
He reached out and patted Sylvia’s head a couple of times.
“You’ve learned well. If you really like something, you should hide it. Otherwise, it becomes your weakness.”
“Your Majesty, that’s not…”
“It might be better for you to show openly that you like it. Princess. Sometimes people think something isn’t a weakness if it’s openly displayed.”
Sylvia bit her lip and clutched her skirt. The emperor found her frustration amusing. What did Gideon Edant and Sylvia Olfenster find appealing about that woman?
Neither of them were the kind to give their hearts easily.
Of course, she’s quite pretty, not boring to be around…
But there are many… not many.
He realized anew. Marie Edant was less attractive, boring, and uninteresting compared to Chloe Langsher, but to him, all humans were like that.
Among them, Marie Edant was the best. Perhaps even more so than Sylvia Olfenster.
Why?
* * *
What if the emperor targets Marie because of me?
Sylvia, suppressing her racing heart in fear, hurried into the rose garden. She couldn’t even remember how she got there. Some annoying maid had been following her, shouting something, but she didn’t care.
“Marie!”
The white-haired woman sitting on the living room carpet with a thick book looked up. That’s why she liked this small cottage. It was easy to know who was where.
Marie opened her arms. Sylvia ran into her embrace. There was a pleasant scent of grass. Her soothing voice was gentle. Sylvia couldn’t bear how much she loved this.
Reluctantly, she had to admit she couldn’t push away a beautiful, kind, and affectionate woman. She had been alone for too long.
“What’s wrong, Princess? Did something happen?”
“The emperor…”
Sylvia mumbled, clinging to her.
“What if the emperor targets you?”
“…”
“He might have noticed that I like you.”
She muttered her excuses and buried her face in Marie’s arms. Marie stroked her hair and asked calmly,
“Does the fact that you like me give the emperor a reason to target me?”
“I don’t know, maybe, but he found it amusing.”
“Maybe he was just curious.”
Sylvia shook her head. She knew the emperor. She knew how her mother had met her end. She had survived by groveling.
“That man can’t stand seeing others happy.”
“Princess.”
In a soothing tone, Sylvia quickly whispered, “He always has to destroy everything. I know. That man has been crazy from the start. That’s why Marie came to me, because Gideon Edant seemed happy. So…”
“I understand, Princess, calm down, nothing has happened yet,” Marie interjected gently. Despite not shedding a single tear, Marie softly stroked Sylvia’s cheek and the area around her eyes. Strangely, that alone was reassuring. Her bright yellow eyes seemed to blink approvingly.
“Princess, can I now remove this book that’s come between us?” she asked playfully. Sylvia, looking at the diary clutched to her chest, mumbled absently, “No, this isn’t just a book, it’s a diary…”
In an instant, Sylvia jumped up. She wasn’t supposed to take anything out from the room where Langsher’s belongings were kept. The emperor might really lose his mind if he found out. But going back now would mean facing the emperor. What to do? What to do?
“Princess? Why all of a sudden…?”
“This is my mother’s diary. I took it from Langsher’s room. Can I return it without the emperor noticing?” Sylvia muttered anxiously.
“…”
Marie picked up the late empress’s diary. In the bottom right corner of the thick, dark blue leather cover, “Leia Langsher” was faintly scrawled.
It wasn’t surprising it said Langsher and not Olfenster, considering her deep attachment to her family. But…
“Langsher’s room?”
…Why is there such a room in this palace?
