Chapter 4
“What do you mean, what now? Just go live your life. You’re free from slavery now. Try looking a bit more pleased, will you?”
The man was the epitome of beauty—graceful curves and strong lines in perfect harmony—but I had no intention of keeping him by my side.
Once I returned to the Empire, I planned to rest briefly and immediately put my new plans into action.
I was far too busy to bother including this pretty-faced man in my entourage.
The reason I had bought him from a foreign slave market in the first place was simple—he was the one I happened to like that day.
And the reason I was letting go of a man I’d spent a fortune on so easily was because… I’d had enough last night. That was it.
I didn’t form long-term connections with one-night stands. That was a personal principle of mine, if anything.
“You’re saying… you’re letting me go?”
I nodded while sipping my coffee.
Really, how could he not be jumping with joy at such luck? Why did he look so sour?
“Oh, you’ll probably need some money. A freed slave isn’t much different from a beggar. Don’t worry—I’ll give you enough to get settled once we dock.”
“But last night…”
“Last night?”
If he meant to bring up what happened last night, he’d be disappointed—I didn’t remember a thing.
I’d been drunk, and things had gotten pretty heated. That’s all I could say.
But before he could finish, someone knocked urgently on the door.
“Lady Steren! Lady Steren! A telegram for you!”
A tense voice rang out, and a chill brushed across my shoulders. I didn’t know what it was, but goosebumps rose on my arm a moment later.
I tore open the telegram handed to me by the staff.
My eyes scanned it rapidly—and then, I felt as if something heavy had slammed into my ears with a thud.
“Gregory Steren and Cecilia Steren, Duke and Duchess—deceased. Car accident. Urgent return to the ducal estate requested.”
The paper slipped from my hands and fluttered to the floor.
“What is this… what does this mean?”
Unable to believe it, I looked up at the staff member who had brought the message, but no question would get me the answer I wanted.
The sight of the staff offering condolences made my stomach turn, and I closed my eyes tightly.
I felt dizzy.
That day was one of the memories I tried hardest to forget.
While my brother and sister-in-law suffered a horrific tragedy, I’d been… fooling around.
From that moment on, I was consumed by a twisted, inexplicable guilt that I couldn’t shake, no matter how much I tried to forget.
After receiving the telegram—after learning I’d lost the family I loved—I barely remember what happened.
I don’t know how I got off the ship or how I returned to the castle. The memories from that day are foggy… except for one.
The moment I saw Dioana crying her eyes out, everything came into focus again.
“I forgot about him, but yes. I know who he is.”
I had met countless men during my travels, and I wasn’t the sentimental type to remember the face of a man I’d spent just one night with, three years ago.
But the moment I saw those golden eyes contrasting his dark hair, I remembered. He was that slave.
Besides, he wasn’t exactly a forgettable face.
I grabbed his chin roughly and questioned him.
“You. What’s your purpose in coming here? How did you know I was here? Who sent you?”
“No one sent me, mistress! I wasn’t ordered by anyone!”
He knew who I was, and I knew who he was. That made him all the more suspicious.
Because I had never given him a single piece of information about me. Not my name, not my family.
He was just supposed to think of me as some rich noblewoman—maybe even his savior—and live gratefully. So how the hell did he end up sneaking into the Northern Duke’s estate?
“Lockhart, how did you catch this man?”
“Well, rather than catching him… we found him,” Lockhart replied, looking bewildered. Apparently, they found him passed out near the south gate—shirtless in broad daylight.
“There was a loud thud in the bushes. When we went to check, there he was, unconscious,” a guard added.
“We searched him but found no weapons of note.”
Could a spy really be this sloppy? Was he just dumb—or was this all part of an elaborate ruse? We wouldn’t know until he spoke.
“What’s your name? Where are you from?”
I didn’t expect a proper answer.
“You’re supposed to name me, mistress. I’m your slave, remember?”
He was even more useless than I thought. Was he mentally unstable? If so, he was even more of a threat.
Anyone remotely dangerous to young Dioana had to be eliminated without hesitation.
If I let him live, he’d no doubt start whining about “mistress, mistress,” and bring up that night.
But killing him immediately felt hasty—there was no solid proof he was a spy…
After a moment’s thought—
“He’s an unidentified individual. No good can come from keeping him alive. Just kill him.”
It was a shame to waste such a face, but I had no choice. He couldn’t be trusted.
At my firm command, the man—who had been grinning foolishly—turned deathly pale.
“W-Wait, mistress!”
I hated going back on decisions. I also hated delaying once I’d made a choice.
Lockhart, who knew this well, drew his longsword and approached him.
The cold, heavy blade was raised high—and was about to come down when—
“Daphne? Auntie? What’s going on?”
At the clear, childlike voice, everyone froze—the sword, my handkerchief, the guards pushing down his shoulders, even the trembling man himself.
“L-Lady Dioana! You mustn’t see this!”
Jeremy, who had arrived late, panicked and tried to cover Dioana’s eyes, but it was too late.
Dioana, curious as ever, peeled off Jeremy’s fingers and stared up at me.
The moment her tiny lips began to move, I knew it was over.
Sure enough—
“Auntie’s killing someone?”
Ah, the brutal honesty of a seven-year-old. It could be lethal to adults.
I racked my brain, trying to find a way to explain things without traumatizing her.
But Dioana had already surveyed the room—the eerie tools, the grim faces of the adults—and put the pieces together.
She began to tear up.
Lockhart quickly hid his sword behind his back, but that was pointless. It wasn’t something you could just hide.
“Auntie’s killing someone—waaaah!”
She burst into tears.
I scooped her up and tried to soothe her, but I knew the truth.
A child’s tears—especially when born from fear—don’t dry up quickly. Only patience, patience, and more patience could calm her down.
“No, Dio. You misunderstood. Why would Auntie kill someone? Auntie’s a good person, right?”
“Then is Lockhart doing it? Is Lockhart a bad person?”
Maybe her recent ethics lesson with the tutor was kicking in at just the worst possible moment.
Usually, when I asked what she learned, she’d just mumble some vague answer.
“Mrs. Keller said killing is wrong. She said no reason can justify it.”
If this were any other time, I would’ve lifted her up and showered her in kisses for using such a difficult word like “justify.” But why today, of all days?
“Yes, you’re right, sweetie. But really, Auntie didn’t kill anyone. Lockhart didn’t either.”
“Then what’s that? Why is that man bleeding? Lockhart looked scary.”
“Let’s go outside. It’s been so long since—”
I tried to coax her out. I even glared at Jeremy—what were you doing, letting her come here?
Jeremy seemed to pick up on my silent reproach and looked properly mortified.
“No. If we leave, Lockhart will kill him, right? I know. I’m not a baby.”
Apparently, Dioana had figured it out—if she left the room, the guards would kill the man.
How was she so sharp? Who did she get that from?
“I’m not leaving!”
With arms crossed and a dignified look, she made her declaration.
“Dioana, Auntie’s going to get mad.”
I tried to drag her out, but she suddenly stared at the man for a moment—then squirmed out of my arms.
For such a tiny body, she had surprising strength when she was being stubborn.
And then… she walked right up to the man without a second’s hesitation.
“Dio!”
Startled, I yelled out. Lockhart, sword in hand, jumped back, and the other guards followed.
I lost my temper and snapped.
“Dio’s standing right in front of a dangerous, unidentified man! What if he does something?! Why are you backing off?!”
Only then did they realize how reckless they had been.
Lockhart and I rushed forward—
But Dioana placed both hands on the man’s cheeks.
“Dio! It’s dangerous! Gross!”
I tried to pull her back, horrified. Didn’t she know how dangerous people could be?
While the adults were burning with anxiety, Dioana’s eyes started to sparkle.
She didn’t move an inch as she cradled his face, and I pulled at her legs like stretched cheese, trying to get her off him.
“Dioana! Let go of him this instant! What do you think you’re doing?! He’s dangerous and disgusting—let go!”
But then, from those sparkling eyes and innocent lips came—
“He’s so handsome!”
The last thing I expected her to say.
