Chapter 91
Edmund didn’t understand the hidden meaning behind what Damian had said.
“Like a secret… one that’s never been spoken aloud.”
He turned fully to face Damian. But before Edmund could even part his lips, Damian offered a faint smile and shook his head.
“No, it was just an idle question. Please don’t take it to heart.”
“Damian.”
Just as he called his name…
“Your Excellency! Where are you?!”
Voices rang out from not far away. Several people were urgently calling for Edmund. He opened the door and stepped outside, only to run into Johann, who had been dashing around.
“Your Excellency!”
“What’s all this commotion?”
Seeing Johann’s flustered state, Edmund quickly pressed for an answer.
“M-Madam…”
Uncharacteristically, Johann stammered.
“She’s… not breathing.”
Thud.
It felt like a part of his body had sunk into a mire. Even as he rushed to Daphne’s room, Edmund felt himself stumble again and again. Though outwardly he was walking fine, inside, he was collapsing.
Standing before her door, Edmund didn’t want to hear the clamor coming from inside.
“Father, what are you doing?”
Damian, who had followed him, stepped past Edmund, who stood frozen, and opened the door.
Ah.
Edmund shut his eyes tightly.
Through the people frantically moving about, he saw Daphne. Her face was pale, drained of all warmth, blood staining her lips and soaking her white gown red.
Just like that day. The day Daphne had inflicted a deep wound on her own thigh. The day it felt like she might leave him for good.
“Your Excellency.”
While Edmund stood motionless, the chaos had subsided. Baroness Nuvelle, still with blood on her hands, approached him.
“When I found her, she had already coughed up blood.”
She stared at her trembling, bloodstained hands as she continued resolutely.
“It was already too late… We performed chest compressions, but her heart wouldn’t start again.”
She simply couldn’t bring herself to pronounce Daphne’s death aloud.
Edmund walked to the bed. No sound came from Daphne, even as he drew close. The faint heartbeat he had once listened for had long since faded.
“Madam is…”
“That’s enough.”
He cut off the Baroness, who was struggling to speak.
“You don’t need to say it.”
“Your Excellency.”
“Bring me the ice stone.”
He turned to Johann.
Johann, catching his gaze, said nothing and swiftly retrieved it.
An ice stone, an extremely rare item that could freeze life itself, suspending bodily functions. Whether for the dead or those on the brink of death, it could buy time. Edmund had received it long ago from a great mage.
Without hesitation, Edmund placed the ice stone on Daphne’s solar plexus and let a trickle of mana flow into it. With a sharp crack, the stone shattered, freezing her body instantly. It would buy him just enough time.
“I’ll go.”
He took Daphne’s hand. It was icy cold, but it had always been devoid of warmth. There was little difference.
“I’ll bring the mana stone.”
Only then did the others realize what Edmund intended. Their eyes widened, but no one dared to speak.
“Your Excellency.”
The first to speak was Baron Nouvelle.
Supporting his wife, he said, “I’ll go in your place.”
“No, Baron. You’ll stay.”
Edmund lifted Daphne’s hand and brought it to his lips.
So cold. So cold, it felt as if the heat in his chest might explode. Then he rose to his feet.
“Keep preparations as simple as possible.”
No one said another word. They merely answered, Yes, and hastily carried out the order.
— — —
Johann watched as Edmund mounted the prepared horse.
“Your Excellency.”
“Johann.”
But Edmund cut him off, as if he had been waiting for the moment.
“If I don’t return within ten days, send someone. But do not, under any circumstances, let anyone enter that area.”
“…”
“I trust you.”
“…Leave it to me.”
Looking at Edmund, who seemed on the verge of crumbling, it was the only thing Johann could say. With that, Edmund spurred the horse forward.
‘Daphne, you must stay by my side.’
It’s fine if you curse me. Scream at me. Even hate me. So long as you breathe next to me. So long as you shout and rage beside me. I am not ready to let you go.
* * *
The following day, Johann immediately sent someone to meet with Yureit and deliver the rest of the story. Naturally, Yureit got into the carriage with a stiff expression, wanting it to appear that she had been driven out after failing to reach an agreement with Edmund.
Watching her worried gaze through the carriage window as it pulled away from the estate, Johann let out a quiet sigh.
It was just the beginning.
Edmund had sent all the estate workers back to their homes. A dismissal disguised as a holiday. Still, no one raised objections, since their severance pay was generous. Most returned home at once, while those living far away waited for the snowstorm to die down, planning to leave the next day or the day after.
Johann returned to his desk and read the letter Yureit had left behind. It detailed her plan.
After learning the situation, Yureit had offered to look for cases matching Daphne’s symptoms and search for another ice stone since Johann could not easily travel to the capital.
All Johann could do now was protect the Winter estate until Edmund returned.
— — —
“Young Lord.”
“What?”
“First break in days. You should rest.”
“Shut up.”
Damian brushed off Vent’s comment.
Vent opened his mouth, then closed it again. He understood why Damian hadn’t stopped working through stacks of paperwork all day. It was as if he were trying not to think at all. Damian had been buried in documents since morning, barely touching his meals. Watching him, Vent felt a heaviness settle over his chest.
“…Shall we spar?”
Damian, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the papers all day, finally looked at him.
“You sure you won’t regret saying that?”
Vent already regretted it and couldn’t muster a proper reply. All he could do was nod. And yes, he regretted it.
After just ten laps around the training ground in the cold, his legs were already trembling. Even with full stamina, sparring with Damian was a challenge. Now, having burned through most of it, the outcome was obvious.
“I give up!”
“Tch.”
Damian clicked his tongue at Vent, who collapsed faster than usual.
“You haven’t changed.”
Panting too hard to respond, Vent couldn’t even speak. Damian, however, let out a quiet laugh at the thought that it wasn’t his own skill improving. It was just Vent’s declining stamina.
“I bet your endurance’s gone to hell.”
Too drained to protest, Vent crawled away on all fours.
Knowing why Vent had pushed himself to spar, Damian felt his heart lighten just a little. While he was at it, he decided to move a bit more and loosen up.
He swung his sword again, working up a sweat. The more exhausted his body became, the less noise there was in his mind.
As he was putting his sword away, a chirping sound made him lift his head. Under the tree in the corner of the training ground, a small chick was struggling.
Damian picked up the injured bird and spotted a nest nestled in the branches above. He looked between the nest and the chick.
This one was going to die.
Animals usually didn’t survive this late in the season. Likely underdeveloped, it had been left behind, unable to follow its siblings and mother into flight.
Instinctively seeking warmth, the chick pressed itself against the palm of Damian’s hand.
An empty nest. An abandoned chick.
Damian couldn’t help but see himself in its place.
“I never thought I’d have to leave this mansion.”
Damian snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the maids talking.
“Me neither. But the severance pay’s good, so I can’t complain.”
They were maids who had been stuck in the blizzard.
“Honestly, I was a little worried. Who would’ve thought the Duke and the Madam would make up?”
The day Edmund returned to the north with Daphne in his arms, the servants had assumed the two had reconciled.
“Honestly, I thought we’d just get thrown out. I mean, we did treat Madam badly.”
Damian, mid-step, froze.
“Come on. It’s not like we bullied her. We just… turned a blind eye and joined in a little.”