~Chapter 8~
At the cold, mocking words that fell from him, Angel clenched both her fists tightly.
The bright, smiling expression she had worn just moments ago vanished, replaced by a sharp, vicious look she no longer tried to hide as she faced Kaire.
“If we marry, Astum will practically gain Ledua. You know that, don’t you?”
“……”
“I am a huge advantage to Astum. I’m the one who can bring greater benefit to Astum than anyone else in this world.”
Seeing Kaire silently watching her, Angel wiped away her harsh expression and instantly put on a gentle smile.
There was even a sense of confidence in her gaze, as if she knew he could never abandon the enormous benefit standing right in front of him.
Kaire slightly lowered his head before rising from his chair. Slowly walking toward the window, he brushed his hair back and looked at Angel.
Angel approached him lightly, gently brushing his large hand with her fingertips as she spoke.
“Our marriage will make Astum an eternal empire.”
Kaire let out a soft scoff, not bothering to hide it, and Angel’s face stiffened instantly.
His green eyes gleamed clearly as he looked straight at her.
“Angel, I don’t need eternity. I only need today. And you’re not in that today.”
Faced with such a perfect rejection at close range, Angel’s chest—half-exposed—rose and fell sharply. Shaking her head slightly as if she couldn’t accept it, she forced a smile.
“We still have plenty of time. I might be part of your tomorrow. Don’t be so hasty. I’ll take my leave for today.”
Turning away, Angel clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
‘Kaire, I will become the Empress of Astum. You have no choice but to choose me.’
Click.
As the sound of Angel leaving the study echoed, Kaire let out a shallow sigh and pressed his temple firmly.
Right now, marriage wasn’t his priority.
What mattered was finding out who was trying to kill him.
The sound of knocking woke Lorienne from her deep sleep.
Even though she had hung a “Closed” sign outside, someone was knocking on the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
There were long pauses between each knock.
It was a prearranged signal.
Lorienne kicked off her blanket and sprang up.
A wave of dizziness hit her, and she steadied herself against the wall for a moment. But she couldn’t afford to be slow—if the visitor thought she was gone and left, it would be a problem.
Staggering slightly, she made her way to the shop. As usual, she didn’t bother opening the small viewing panel.
She flung the door open—
And a familiar face stood there.
“Marmo! Come in, quickly!”
“Lady Lorienne, have you been well?”
“Of course I have. I was actually waiting for you—I was wondering why you hadn’t come yet.”
Lorienne grabbed the hand of the teenage boy, who was about her height.
Marmo was her only source of news from Rixsir.
“You look pale, Lady Lorienne.”
“I’m fine. I just used too much magic the other day. I rested well—I’ll recover soon.”
Only then did the boy smile, revealing his cute little fang. His worried expression eased.
“My brother… how is he? He’s healthy, right?”
Her pale violet eyes trembled with emotion, as though they had been waiting desperately for this moment.
Seeing that, Marmo forced a smile and nodded.
“He’s healthy, thankfully. I saw him briefly outside about a week ago. He’s gotten a bit thinner than before, but he still looked healthier than anyone.”
“Really? That’s such a relief… From what I remember, the Hortense family didn’t have a bad reputation. How do they treat their slaves?”
When someone became a slave in a noble household, they usually stayed there until death.
But Elond, the eldest son of the Kroitz family, had already been sold three times.
The nobles of Rixsir all knew Elond Kroitz very well, and they competed to buy him at high prices.
They took pleasure in owning someone who had once been the heir of a ducal house and the son of Rixsir’s chancellor.
Those who bought him often held lavish parties just to show off that Elond was their slave.
Marmo had come to Astum for the first time since delivering the news two months ago that Elond had been sold to the Hortense family.
“It seems better than the previous count’s house. According to rumors, at least they don’t let their slaves skip meals.”
“I see……”
Lorienne’s thin shoulders slumped weakly.
Fourteen years ago, Marmo’s mother, Marcel, had been a maid in the Kroitz household—and an unwed mother.
She never revealed who the father was, even as her belly grew.
Everyone thought she would soon be thrown out.
But the Duke and Duchess of Kroitz protected her instead.
They arranged for a midwife so she could safely give birth, and allowed Marmo to be raised within the estate.
Then, six years ago—
On the day the Duke and Duchess of Kroitz were suddenly executed for treason—
Elond secretly helped Marcel and the youngest child, Marmo, escape through a hidden passage.
Marmo had been eight years old at the time.
“Marcel is doing well too, right? I was so focused on my brother that I forgot to ask about her.”
“Yes, she’s doing well. Oh, right—this is for you, Lady Lorienne.”
“What is it?”
“My mother said you liked this, so she told me to make sure to bring it.”
Marmo placed a small basket on the table.
When Lorienne removed the cloth covering it, inside were red fruits—Enyu.
A fruit that only grew in Rixsir.
There had been several Enyu trees in the Kroitz estate garden.
Every August, they bore abundant fruit.
As a child, Lorienne had spent entire days playing beneath those trees, even climbing them despite being scolded—just to pick and eat the fruit herself.
To think she would see Enyu again…
Lorienne simply stared at the fruit in silence.
The faint, sweet fragrance instantly carried her back six years—to a sunlit summer day.
A normal day, when her father, mother, and brother Elond were still together—
That memory seeped quietly into her heart.
“Enyu……”
“It’s near the end of the season, so they’re small. I wanted to bring more, but the distance…”
Marmo fidgeted with his fingers, feeling embarrassed about the modest gift.
Lorienne suddenly grabbed his hands.
Her pale face had reddened at the tip of her nose.
“Thank you, Marmo. It must’ve been heavy…”
“No! Not heavy at all!”
At his loud reply, Lorienne ruffled his curly blonde hair.
“I know it won’t be easy… but please keep watching over my brother a little longer.”
“Of course. Don’t worry. Every time Lord Elond is moved, my mother and I move too. We keep track of everything in the market as well. If anything happens to him, I’ll come right away.”
Two years ago, Lorienne had run into Marmo at Ploka Market—the largest market in Astum.
She had gone there to gather potion ingredients and happened to recognize him leaving a bakery.
Marcel had an older sister who had lost contact, but they later discovered she was living in Astum.
So they visited once or twice a year.
Since that day, Marmo had been bringing Lorienne news of Elond and Rixsir.
“I should get going now. I also need to visit my aunt in Ploka.”
“Alright. Wait a moment.”
Lorienne went inside and returned with a small pouch containing ten gold coins.
It was an amount a commoner would need months of hard labor to save.
After insisting, she finally pressed the pouch into Marmo’s hands.
Then she returned inside, leaving the “Closed” sign hanging on the door.
She collapsed into a chair, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in them.
Her loose platinum hair fell over her shoulders.
A faint whisper escaped her lips.
“Just hold on a little longer, Elond…”
Her mind drifted back to that day six years ago.
Thud—!
The heavy blade fell on the guillotine—
And her father and mother’s severed heads rolled across the capital of Rixsir.
