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T/N: I could imagine the beautiful Daphne, just look at this novel's gorgeous cover~ ahh 😊
E/N: Why are Dukes' sons always identical to their fathers?
It was nothing special. It was so unremarkable that once he looked away, he couldn’t even remember its contents. And yet, it was the reason he couldn’t put it down. With a sharp turn, Edmund put the letter inside the drawer and closed it. The longer he looked at it, the more he felt uneasy and sick in his stomach.
He quickly scanned his surroundings hoping to distract himself. Almost immediately, the document on the desk caught his eyes. The document used such a low-quality paper commoners used. It felt even more out of place between the fine parchments.
Fortunately or unfortunately, it was a divorce paper with all the formalities completed, save for one signature space left blank. Edmund checked the date written on the paper. It was from a month ago, when he went to the capital.
The sheer audacity of assuming he would accept the divorce without question, with everything prepared in advance, left him speechless. He truly hadn’t seen it coming.
Of course, Edmund didn’t care about this marriage. It was unwanted. He just thought that he would have to live his entire life like this bound by a contract, vulnerable and trapped. But with just a signature – a mere flick of the wrist – everything would be over.
Such a shallow relationship.
Edmund immediately picked up the quill and placed the nib on the paper. All it would take was a small movement of his wrist to sign the same way he mechanically did on documents every day. And then it would all be over.
But suddenly, as if time had stopped, Edmund froze. He watched as the empty signature space slowly became stained with ink, without making a single move.
“… Ah.”
Snap. The quill broke with a dull sound.
Edmund only moved again after the black ink from the broken quill had stained his fingers. He watched the sticky ink drip before opening his hand. The quill, now broken in two, had vanished, leaving only black ash and ink behind. It was a curse that never failed to unnerve him. This was also why Edmund, a Sword Master, had never once revealed his aura to the world.
For some inexplicable reason, Edmund’s aura was soot black and turned everything it touched to ash. Whenever he lost control or composure, only black ashes remained around him. This was his only weakness and the reason he got married, which was never part of his plans.
Edmund took off his gloves, now stained with the ash and ink. Even with the bracelet wrapped around his wrist, layered with multiple sealing spells from a Grand Mage, there were times when it still seeped out. He crumpled the gloves and tossed them aside before taking out a cigarette from his coat, lighting it, and taking a few drags. Unlike a regular cigarette, this one was made from leaves that had a calming and sleep-inducing effect.
The nausea he had felt while looking at the letter quickly subsided, almost unnervingly so.
Edmund blinked his eyes in that strange tranquility, his vision blurry. For some reason, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight either. ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“Sir Alec.”
“... Young Master.”
Alec was startled when he saw Damian as soon as he came out of the room with trembling legs. For a moment, he mistook him for Edmund with their striking resemblance.
“If you’ve come to see His Excellency, now might not be a good time.”
“Oh, I see,” Damian answered absentmindedly.
Alec, who had barely managed to gather his strength and leave the room to rest, subtly turned his head when he noticed Damian wasn’t moving.
“That… what’s going on with the search for Mother?” he asked hesitantly.
Recalling what happened inside the room, Alec rubbed his arms of the goosebumps as he answered, “It seems we will be forming a search party with the Black Knights.”
Damian’s face distorted slightly. Seeing his expression, which seemed to question whether he'd heard correctly, Alec nodded. He found the situation just as bewildering, but disobeying orders wasn't an option.
“Is there… anything I can do to help?”
Alec’s eyes widened at his unexpected offer. Despite being mature for his age, it was only natural that Damian would be concerned about someone who had been his mother under the same roof for several years.
“You needn’t worry, Young Master.”
All the matters would be resolved soon, so there was no need for the future heir to worry. Damian had a complicated expression at Alec’s words, but it quickly returned to its usual calm.
“Then, thank you for the hard work.”
Turning his back to Alec, Damian walked anxiously to his room. Suddenly, he realized what he was thinking and stopped in his tracks. He shook his head with a frown on his face.
‘Me? Worried about that woman?’
That woman whom I’ve never thought of as my Mother?
No.
It wasn’t because deep in his heart, he considered that woman as his mother, or because he belatedly realized her value, nor was it due to some newfound understanding. It was a deep, complex emotion, difficult for him to understand.
Standing still, Damian ordered his aide, Vent.
“Vent, bring that maid who reported Mother’s disappearance.”
Something simple and straightforward
“My wish? It’s for you to disappear.”
…It was just anxiety.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
A month ago, the night of a grand celebration.
The atmosphere was lively, with guests intoxicated with wine, engrossed in their chatter. They had gathered to celebrate the coming-of-age ceremony of the Young Lord Winter, a month earlier than usual, and eagerly awaited the arrival of the guest of honor.
“I can hardly wait to meet His Excellency Duke Winter in person.” A young lady murmured, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
The Winter family. The renowned protectors of the northern region bordering the empire, were famed throughout the land. Seven years ago, Duke Winter had brought a swift end to the Great War that had ravaged the empire for decades, succeeding in just two years. As a result, he was revered by the Emperor and the people alike, earning their trust, admiration, and respect.
However, what was particularly famous was the stunning beauty of both Duke Winter and his son. The young ladies and even the noblewomen in attendance were abuzz with anticipation at the thought of seeing them in person. Moreover, with the Young Lord still unwed at his coming-of-age, many in the room harbored secret hopes.
At that moment, the door opened and the main characters of the banquet appeared. The Duke, appearing in public for the first time in five years since his marriage, was a sight to behold, as if stepping out of a masterpiece painting. His jet-black hair, swallowing all of light, and his eyes, reflecting an enigmatic moonlight, commanded everyone’s attention.
No one could look away. In a sea of elegantly dressed guests, his striking appearance drew quiet gasps of admiration. Yet, his cold demeanor intimidated those who dared hold his gaze, forcing them to look away.
While the Duke was indeed captivating, the Young Lord was equally so. Bearing an uncanny resemblance to his father, the Young Lord shared the same piercing eyes that could send shivers down one's spine.
After the Duke and his son had taken their seats, a woman with neatly styled brown hair entered the room. She moved calmly, though her green eyes darted around nervously. Her plain and unassuming appearance was a stark contrast to the brilliance of the men of the Winter family, making her look even more out of place as she approached them.
A young lady nearby was startled by the sudden appearance of this woman, who had a beautiful but somber appearance which kept others around from approaching.
“She seems like a young lady from a humble family. Shouldn’t someone stop her?”
The noblewoman standing next to her shook her head and swayed her fan, “... There’s no need. She’s Duchess Winter.”
“What?” The young lady’s eyes widened in surprise.
It was well-known that the Young Master wasn’t born between the current Duke and Duchess. The young lady never heard of the rumors about the Duchess, so she simply assumed that the woman who married the handsome Duke was equally beautiful. Standing among the gorgeous men of the Winter family, the Duchess paled in comparison.
The Duke and Duchess exchanged a few words.
‘I heard they were in love….’
The young lady blinked as she watched the two.
Their faces were so expressionless that the nearby people strained to listen, wondering if they were fighting. Just as Daphne turned to leave, Edmund gently wrapped an arm around her waist and placed a chaste kiss on her hand.
‘Of course, they couldn’t possibly be fighting.’
The marriage between the Duke, a key figure in the Royalist faction, and the Duchess, from the Noble faction, had once been the talk of society. Their love story, overcoming many obstacles to unite against all odds, was famous as a tale of true love. Having grown up on such fairy tales, the young lady never doubted the couple’s bond.
After a brief exchange, the Duke stepped forward, signaling the formal start of the celebration.
The banquet commenced.
— — —
“Mother?” Damian frowned without realizing it.
Though the balcony was dark, it wasn’t difficult to recognize the figure standing there. Halfway inside, Damian hesitated, torn between returning outside to face the crowd or staying here with his estranged mother.
He quickly made up his mind.
“Have you seen the Young Master?”
“I was looking for him too.”
Hearing voices from behind a curtain, Damian quickly stepped fully inside the balcony and closed the door behind him, narrowly avoiding detection. He sighed in relief, not wanting to get discovered so soon. He had anticipated that his appearance would cause a stir in society, but it was far more overwhelming than expected.
Unlike his perpetually stoic father, his slight smile had attracted an even larger crowd. The moment he finished speaking with one person, ten more would be waiting for him, wearing him down.
Moreover, he couldn’t ignore the obvious intentions of the noblewomen escorting eligible young ladies around his age. The overpowering perfume they wore was so strong that it made his head spin. The only noblewoman nearby was his mother, yet the faint, almost scentless fragrance she wore was a stark contrast.
“You seem rather worn out.”
Damian narrowed his eyes at her unusually breezy way of speaking. The idea that the Young Master, who could slay a mid-level monster without batting an eye, would be avoiding people like this seemed to amuse her, and a faint smile lingered on her lips.
Startled by her sudden smile, Damian stiffened. But he quickly understood the reason behind his mother’s different behavior – her slightly flushed cheeks and the faint scent of alcohol carried on the wind.
It was shocking to find her here, in the corner of the ballroom, drinking, after she had spent the first three days of their arrival in the capital out of the house, only showing up just in time for the banquet, pale and claiming exhaustion.
Moreover, her usually tightly bound hair had come undone, strands blowing gently in the wind. As he followed the movement of her hair against the night sky, he unintentionally locked eyes with her bright green gaze.