SDIV 34

Chapter 34

The entrance gate to the capital, Roon.

A carriage decorated with a golden eagle and a knight in full armor were undergoing the entry process.

Citizens of the capital, who happened to witness the scene, whispered to each other in curiosity.

“Oh my, look at that eagle. That’s the crest of the famous Duke Altair’s family.”

“Isn’t that the family of Sir Arin Yan, who recently developed a cure for the plague and an insecticide?”

“There’s a rumor the Emperor is going to grant Sir Yan a noble title and a position as a capital knight…”

“He deserves it, honestly.”

“If it’s true, I hope he stays in the capital. It’d be reassuring to have someone like him protecting us.”

“If they give him a title and a position, wouldn’t he stay? The capital is better than the duchy in many ways.”

Among the murmuring crowd, a man flinched and scolded another.

“Shh! Quiet. The Duke might hear you.”

“How would someone inside a carriage hear us?”

“They say Swordmasters have incredibly sharp senses. You can’t think of them like ordinary people. So don’t say anything that might get us charged with blasphemy.”

The man was right.

Because Ado and Yello had just fallen asleep, the inside of the carriage was very quiet, and the crowd’s conversation reached Arin’s ears. She didn’t believe that Deneb, who had sharper senses than her, hadn’t heard it.

Sure enough, when she looked up, Deneb’s face had turned into that of a demon. He looked like he could tear those people to pieces. Arin carefully swallowed, worried even that sound might irritate him.

Meanwhile, Deneb was imagining Arin staying in the capital. The mere thought made his chest burn with irritation. It unsettled him deeply to think of people all over the city trying to take what was his.

The carriage, having completed the entry process, began to move forward slowly.

Soon, it rolled smoothly along the well-maintained roads of the capital. About ten minutes later, it stopped in front of a refined old mansion—not as grand as the Duke’s main estate, but steeped in time and elegance.

Noticing they had arrived, Deneb gently picked up the sleeping Ado. His movements were more natural than when he had clashed with Lespan.

Sunlight streamed down on Ado’s face as he was carried out. Frowning, the boy buried his face into Deneb’s chest. A bit of drool escaped from his soft cheek, but Deneb’s face remained indifferent, as if it were nothing.

The elderly butler managing the mansion rubbed his eyes in disbelief. The sight of Deneb and Ado together looked unmistakably like that of a father and son.

‘The young master—no, His Grace the Duke—has a son!?’

Arin and Yello also stepped out of the carriage, now awake. The butler’s gaze naturally turned to Arin. Her clear skin and warm light-brown eyes gave her a gentle aura, and his imagination took off.

‘The Duchess!’

His thoughts were shared by everyone working at the capital mansion.

Arin looked around the room assigned to her.

“This room’s way too fancy for me…”

Even the air seemed to reek of wealth.

While the second knights who accompanied her had been assigned rooms on the lower floors, Arin’s room was high above. Not only was it odd that she was separated, but the structure of the room was stranger still.

In addition to the main door, there was another connecting door that led to the next room, which puzzled her.

At first, she thought maybe Ado and Yello were staying with her and this was a suite for them. But she soon realized that wasn’t the case—she could sense Deneb’s presence from the adjoining room.

“What is this room, exactly…?”

Her confusion was cleared when the maids who came to help her prepare for a party made a surprising remark.

“We’re here to assist the Duchess with her attire.”

“Excuse me? I’m not the Duchess.”

“…But didn’t you arrive in the same carriage as the Duke? And you two have a child together. If it’s just that you haven’t had a formal ceremony yet…”

Arin was dumbfounded. A child? With her? A woman who unintentionally lived like a nun!?

Ado was her little brother, and the carriage had been a courtesy because of Ado and Yello. She explained the facts, but the maids didn’t seem fully convinced.

“But… when we reported this room would be assigned to Sir Yan, the Duke said nothing.”

“What’s so special about this room?”

“It’s the room traditionally reserved for the Duchess.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

‘This guy really didn’t think this through,’ Arin thought. Meanwhile, everyone else assumed they were essentially betrothed.

“We’re really not like that…”

Oh dear, she must be shy. The maids silently smiled and helped her prepare.

Arin was amazed at how different she looked with their expert hands at work.

“Wow, you’re all so talented.”

“It’s mostly thanks to your lovely skin, Sir Yan. Most knights have darker, rougher skin from constant sun exposure. But yours is as soft as a baby’s.”

“Is that so? I’m flattered.”

“How do you take care of it?”

Arin couldn’t exactly say it was buffed with magic cosmetics, so she winked and said it was a secret.

Yello, watching their girly camaraderie, gave a huge yawn.

[Yaaawn. Real beauty comes from thick fur! You hairless freaks have fun with your games. Hmph.]

Arin’s forehead twitched—she was the only one who understood him.

“She says she’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

At the butler’s words, Deneb put on his jacket and turned around.

His brushed-back hair revealed a clean forehead, and his sharp nose gave off an even colder charm.

His perfectly fitted clothes revealed a firm physique. His broad shoulders and muscular thighs looked especially striking today.

“Let’s go.”

He casually walked over to the next room and knocked.

“Come in.”

When the door opened, Arin stood there in full formal attire. Her pinned-up hair and high-necked lace dress made her look like a noble lady.

Deneb thought her face—especially her lips—looked more radiant than usual, probably because she had just finished her makeup.

Arin did a little spin to show off her outfit. The silk skirt puffed out like her cheerful mood.

After the full turn, she asked with a bright smile:

“Don’t I look super sexy?”

Her lips curved into a playful arc, but Deneb’s lips were frozen solid. The front of her dress looked conservative, but her back was almost completely exposed.

Regardless of his reaction, Arin was busy admiring herself in the mirror.

‘Heh. This is what you call contrast appeal. Look at that waist—sword training paid off.’

At first, Arin wondered if it was really necessary to dress up this much just for attending a trial. Deneb had explained.

According to him, the Imperial court was not only a place for trials but also for flaunting a family’s wealth and capability. A shabby-looking family would be dismissed outright.

It was annoying, but when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

So Arin was determined to dress up flashier than anyone. Since she had to attend the trial and party anyway, she might as well enjoy it. Of course, it wasn’t all fun—she also planned to compare the current events to the original story.

In any case, she and Deneb were in the same boat. If things followed the original plot, she would end up with a bad ending along with him.

‘Alright! I’ll stop what I can and twist what I must.’

As she made her vow, a soft shawl was draped over her shoulders.

“It’s cold. Wear this.”

Arin frowned at the shawl he had tightly wrapped around her.

“I’m not cold. Take it off, you’re ruining my style.”

The underground Imperial prison, from which no one had ever escaped, was pitch-dark and damp. The only light came from faint moonlight through a small window.

In the dim cell, a woman sat with her back straight.

Ashilla wore a dull gray dress—something she would never have worn normally. Her complexion was as pale and lifeless as the fabric.

“When will I be able to leave this place…”

She tried to console herself, thinking surely her brother hadn’t truly abandoned her. Otherwise, there’d be no reason to keep her alive for a month.

But her mind was filled with the image of her brother, who had given her a glass bottle with a black lid.

Contrary to what he’d said, the bottle didn’t protect her from the plague. In fact, it attracted insects.

She became even more despondent, biting her lips nervously. Her anxious gaze turned toward an approaching light and sound.

Holding a red magical lamp was the one person she had been longing for—Emperor Procyon, her brother. Her eyes widened in shock.

“B-Brother…”

“How have you been?”

“This place is filthy and cold… I thought… I thought you had abandoned me when you didn’t come for a month.”

Reflected in her pupils was her blood relative, looking at her tenderly.

A soft smile curled his lips, and his crescent-shaped eyes looked kind.

But behind that gentle façade, his gaze was icy cold.

“N-No, right? You didn’t abandon me, right? We’re in this together. Remember what I did for the Imperial family! I did everything you asked!”

“Ashilla.”

At his call, Ashilla’s fingers trembled. The Emperor walked slowly toward her cell.

“You did what I asked, but you failed to do everything I said. Didn’t I tell you to keep the bottle close? You’re the one who lost that crucial evidence. The ship is sinking, and I have to survive.”

“That bottle… it wasn’t for protection!”

“Have you said your piece?”

“Argh! So I was just a discarded pawn after all!!”

“Not discarded, dear sister. Remember our late father’s words. This isn’t abandonment—it’s sacrifice for the dignity of the Imperial family.”

Ashilla knew her brother’s obsession with power and honor. She would die here, taking all the blame, as a villain. She would be stripped of her royal status.

“No! I don’t want to die!”

“Oh dear sister… how disgraceful. This is a noble death—for me, no, for the Empire.”

“You monster! Using your own blood as a shield!”

“Pfft. Blood ties—what are they really worth?”

Suddenly, Ashilla gasped and clutched her throat. An invisible force was choking her. As her vision blurred from lack of oxygen, she saw his detached gaze.

She realized she was dying.

Her body, which had thrashed for survival, collapsed lifelessly to the floor. When her warmth faded completely, a figure in a navy robe appeared.

“Your Majesty. Shall we use her as a sacrifice?”

“Yes. Dispose of her as usual, Eden.”

“Understood. Hmm, what a fine offering.”

At those words, the Emperor smiled darkly.

“She’s my own blood, after all—perfect as a sacrifice.”