2.8 Forgive-Me-Not(1)
“Your Highness, something terrible has happened! Duke Transis has sent an envoy…!”
“Yes, I know.”
Marcel, who had rushed out without even putting on his shoes properly at the sudden news, was left stunned by the Crown Prince’s expression, which was utterly composed, unlike his own as he burst through the office doors.
“Pardon?”
The Crown Prince, whom Marcel expected to jump up from his seat in surprise, answered without even taking his eyes off the documents he was reviewing, his face calm.
“I said I know. He’ll probably arrive at the Imperial Palace by tomorrow. Since it’s an unofficial visit, please make sure no word leaks out. Ensure that my father never finds out.”
And then, he added an absurd request as if it were nothing. Marcel was left speechless by the Crown Prince’s nonchalant tone, as if he were simply asking someone to go give a dog treat to a neighborhood puppy. What? It was outrageous enough that a traitor who had fled from a place of exile had the audacity to send an envoy, but the Crown Prince’s attitude toward him was even more baffling.
“No, Your Highness, wait. Do you actually understand what I just said?”
When Marcel questioned his own ears, unable to believe the situation, the Crown Prince spoke with clear articulation to dispel his doubts.
“I thought Marcel had a decent memory. It seems you weren’t listening to a word I said.”
The corners of his mouth were curled into a smirk, but his eyes were devoid of any warmth. As their gazes met, Marcel felt a sudden chill freeze the depths of his heart. Despite the duller hue of his blonde hair and the sunken hollows of his eyes, the Crown Prince was still hauntingly beautiful. He was undoubtedly as radiant and lovely as ever, yet Marcel remained puzzled as to why his face now carried such a sinister, menacing aura.
“Go on. You’ll need to move quickly if you intend to replace the guards and servants with those who can keep their mouths shut.”
Even the way he dismissed him from the office, treating Marcel as if he were a mere chief chamberlain, felt foreign. When had it started? When had the Crown Prince begun to push him away with such clear suspicion? Since Marcel had no authority to refuse the order, he bowed his head in obedience. As he left the office, he glared at the sturdy man standing behind the Crown Prince, as if he had usurped Marcel’s own place. Perhaps sensing the gaze, the man—who possessed an almost ghostly intuition, like some beast—met Marcel’s eyes and grinned with a repulsive look. It was as if he were looking down on him. Marcel tried his best to ignore him, complaining inwardly.
‘How could he employ someone of unknown origin…’
He had mentioned being a former private mercenary who wandered across the continent. Unlike those belonging to mercenary groups that trained in clusters and operated as small units, this man worked alone, without any guild or organization. Since the Crown Prince himself had a mercenary background, finding a connection wasn’t impossible, but no matter how fluent he was in the imperial language, it was hardly normal to bring a foreigner—who didn’t even belong to the Imperial Palace—into the office as his closest confidant.
‘What on earth is he thinking?’
The Crown Prince had done many insane things since he had gone mad for the Duke, but this was not something that could be overlooked if it became an official issue. Hiring a foreigner in the Imperial Palace was controversial enough, let alone a mercenary notorious for being cruel and vile, someone who would grovel like a dog for anyone who handed him money. Marcel could not fathom why a man so infamous that he would dispose of a newborn infant if the price was right was now openly guarding the Crown Prince’s side.
However, just because he couldn’t accept it didn’t mean he could refuse orders or rebel. Regardless, the Crown Prince was keeping his promise never to neglect his official duties. As if he had experienced it many times before, his decisions were cunning and pierced through to the practicalities, like a seasoned lord. At times, he was so wise that it impressed not only Marcel but even the Emperor. There were moments when he didn’t seem like the Mikhail Marcel had known until now.
It was clear what had changed him. The Crown Prince’s sole purpose seemed to be the Duke. His position, his authority and power as the next Emperor—everything seemed to be a mere means to obtain him.
Marcel didn’t know if such a person should become the ruler of the Empire, but wasn’t it better than someone striving to climb the ladder to command the world and trample others? That was the best way to think about it. After all, it wasn’t as if he could pull him down.
As Marcel left the office with a deep, swallowed sigh, only the Crown Prince and the man Marcel so distrusted remained. As soon as the door clicked shut, Mikhail murmured in a low voice.
“Don’t provoke Marcel too much. There is more work to be done in the future.”
His tone suggested he was more concerned about a gap in the man’s utility than genuinely caring for or worrying about Marcel.
“Still, I heard he’s a founding contributor unauthorized copywho helped put you in the Crown Prince’s seat. Isn’t that a bit harsh?”
When the man replied in a frivolous tone, Mikhail let out a short sigh.
“I am showing him sufficient courtesy—excessively so, in fact.”
This was an undeniable fact. The only reason Marcel was still walking around with his head attached to his shoulders was in recognition of his past loyalty and achievements; otherwise, he would have been a limb severed long ago. Upon entering the palace, Mikhail had followed Marcel, the first person he relied on, like family. He respected his upright nature, his loyalty to the Empire, and his judgment. There were times he trusted Marcel’s experience more than his own judgment. That was why it was so hard to accept at first that the result of that trust was Marcel stealthily hiding what was happening in the Crown Prince’s Palace while Mikhail was being played by the Emperor.
Why? If Marcel had known how Mikhail felt about him, he couldn’t have done it. Did he remain silent for the sake of the Empire’s stability, even if it meant someone more precious than family would be harmed? A man who cherished his own kin above all else. A man who had rolled through battlefields like a dog from a young age, volunteering to be the breadwinner for his family—Mikhail couldn’t believe such a person could do that.
I suppose it’s inevitable that someone else’s most precious person must be sacrificed for the greater good. But one’s own family should not be. After seeing Marcel’s expression when Mikhail hid his family to secure his cooperation, Mikhail could no longer look at him with the same emotions. While he knew he couldn’t hold the current Marcel responsible for the actions of the past, he could no longer rely on him for many things. Thus, he sought another suitable candidate. Someone who had helped him before he turned back time. Although he had collected the price for that help quite thoroughly.
“Why are you so desperate to provoke the young master?”
One could tell just by the first impression that the man didn’t like Marcel. Although Marcel’s features had grown rough from his hardships, he was still the child of a noble house. Though he had grown up with a sense of responsibility to lead and revive his family rather than the innocence of a child, he possessed a certain noble quality. Regardless, even if he had accepted the fact that he had to work like a dog, unlike a typical noble, he had the conviction that he would not sink below a certain level. That was why, when tasked with caring for the abandoned Imperial Prince, he did not refuse, as it was a way to contribute to Osbrant, who treated him as a noble. In truth, it was closer to the fact that he had no right to refuse.
On the other hand, the man was someone who had survived by crawling through the gutters of stolen contentthe place called hell. He couldn’t stand a “young master” who pretended to have [stolen content]lived roughly—more so [stolen content]than a commoner—yet remained strangely naive. Perhaps if it were Mikhail, who had grown up as the youngest, willingly eating the leftovers of his family at a commoner’s table, it would be different.
“Just… it’s annoying how the young master acts all high and mighty because he grew up with fewer hardships.”
Standing behind the Crown Prince, the man looked down at the documents being signed and laughed with a short, breathy sound, giving an answer that didn’t quite match the question.
“By the way, I never thought I’d live to see the day I’d be asked to babysit.”
At the man’s mocking voice, Mikhail replied without even glancing at him.
“It’s not a request, it’s a commission. We are exchanging a price that satisfies both parties.”
Then, the pen scratched across the paper and stopped abruptly as the nib snapped. Mikhail clicked his tongue and added,
“And I told you, it’s not babysitting, it’s escorting. It’s just that the deadline is difficult to set, but it’s no different from the work you’ve done until now, is it?”
When he spoke so comfortably, he seemed no different from any other twenty-year-old novice. Where had that noble attitude he showed [stolen content]Marcel earlier gone? At the light tone of a [unauthorized copy]frivolous twenty-year-old mercenary, the man shrugged and replied,
“I don’t know. Most of the commissions I’ve taken weren’t to protect a child until they were born, but to get rid of them so they wouldn’t be born.”
Then, he stretched his arms toward the ceiling and naturally picked up a bottle of liquor displayed in a corner of the office. The sound of him ripping the seal and gulping down the contents echoed loudly. Only then did Mikhail’s eyebrows twitch as he glared at the man.
“Then use this opportunity to broaden the scope of your commissions. If you say you’ve handled a request from Crown Prince Osbrant, your fees will jump even higher.”
The man quite liked this side of Mikhail. A human who looked so lovely and radiant, as if without a single shadow, yet whose inside seemed twisted and coiled several times over—in a way, he felt like a kindred spirit.
“Anyway, you never let a word slide. If you’re that worried, why not just keep him by your side? Why insist on sticking him in some rural hole instead of the Crown Prince’s Palace? It’s not like you can hide him forever by lying. If that woman makes up her mind, there’s no way she won’t find him there.”
It was a perfectly valid question. When he first received the commission from the Crown Prince, the man thought he had misheard. As long as he accepted commissions regardless of nationality, receiving secret requests from high-ranking officials of various countries was a daily occurrence. Requests to eliminate political rivals or to get rid of a husband’s illegitimate child or a mistress pregnant with one were very common. He was a vulgar mercenary who did work no different from a notorious villain, where whether he accepted or rejected a request depended on his own whim rather than the ethics of the job.
And yet, of all things, an escort mission. Moreover, upon hearing that he was to protect an Alpha who was pregnant and fleeing from the threats of the Imperial Family, the man couldn’t help but doubt his own ears. Not an Omega, but an Alpha? It would be more believable that the sun rose in the west or that dogs spoke human language. He had never heard of an Alpha getting pregnant. Anyway, when he discovered the identity of the person who called a ridiculous sum of money and told him that since it was possible, he just needed to do his job, the man was so shocked he almost laughed.
The man had heard the stories: that a kid who followed around as an apprentice in some mercenary group in the Central region had made a name for himself as a hero of the Central region, only to be revealed as a hidden Imperial Prince. No wonder the kid looked different from the other brothers in that house. You can’t hide a needle in a pocket; even at a young [unauthorized copy]age, he was strong enough that adults couldn’t compete, and his unauthorized copyface was so strikingly handsome that people speculated he must have been a discarded illegitimate child of [visit our site]some noble house who was picked up and raised. To think he was actually royalty. He had forgotten about it, thinking it was a romantic tale and that the world was quite interesting, only to find that the protagonist of this bizarre commission was that very Crown Prince.
‘There are things you must strictly adhere to. Do not disclose anything to the protected target. And…’
The absurdity of being told to take medicine to suppress pheromones because the target was a pregnant Alpha was on a level incomparable to anything he had encountered in his mercenary career. How does an Alpha get pregnant? Does that even make sense? When he asked back in disbelief, the Crown Prince had replied nonchalantly,
‘It’s the power of love.’
What kind of bullshit is that? It was equally ridiculous, but by that point, he became curious. He wondered what on earth had happened for two Alphas to fall for each other, and just how beautiful the person was and how great and passionate their love had been for an Alpha to conceive. When he found out that the Alpha was none other than Duke Transis, who had fled from the place of exile, he briefly thought that he should take this commission even if he had to pay for it.
In any case, the man’s job was to accompany and escort the Duke until the child was born. Although they shared a mercenary background, a unit-type mercenary specializing in subjugation and he—who would encounter such people as an assassin or an escort on the battlefield—had no point of contact. However, how the Prince had found him was not something he needed to wonder about further.
“Anyway, I’m not needed until tomorrow afternoon, right? I want to get some rest while I can.”
Though he said “rest,” he meant he wanted to slack off if there was nothing to do. The Crown Prince didn’t question him and simply waved his hand as if to say “do as you please.” Just as the man shrugged and was about to leave the office…
“Hm? What’s this.”
The Crown Prince suddenly pulled out a bright red apple from somewhere and tossed it to the man.
“It caught my eye in the garden earlier.”
“Ah, well, it looks tasty. So suddenly?”
“You like apples.”
That was true. The man shrugged once more, rubbed the ripe apple on his clothes, and took a large bite. The Imperial Palace’s preservation technology must be good. It was certainly harvested last year, yet it was very sweet and fresh. It didn’t matter why the Prince told a transparent lie about getting it from the garden, or how he knew the man liked apples. The rhythm of his departing footsteps was quite cheerful as he awaited the start of the mission.
Only after the man disappeared was Mikhail finally alone. Sometimes he felt alone even when he wasn’t, but today, there was truly no presence in the office other than his own. The moment a sense of relief washed over him at the fact that he had finally received word from the Duke and could meet him…
“Cough… ugh.”
A sudden burst of coughing erupted, and vivid fresh blood stained the handkerchief Mikhail hurriedly pressed to his mouth. Along with the cough, his heart tightened, and [stolen content]blood smeared more clearly across his lips.
“Ah…”
In preparing a safe future for the Duke, it had taken longer than expected. It was perhaps natural that the time not spent on his original purpose had slipped away in an instant.
‘Is there not much left…’
Still, since he knew when the end would be, his breath would not cease unless he was murdered before then. As long as the child safely entered the world and survived, neither the Emperor nor the Empress could stop the throne from returning to Transis. Mikhail nonchalantly threw the blood-stained handkerchief into the brazier to burn it and picked up his pen again as if nothing had happened.
In his first life, after losing the person he loved, Mikhail was nothing short of a madman. He gave absurd orders to his loyal subjects to find a way to bring the dead back to life and scoured every place related to shamanism or magic. Small shrines and halls imbued with various legends were no exception. After several years of searching everywhere the power of Osbrant could reach, the beautiful and young tyrant, Mikhail, had to accept a reality he did not want to believe.
There is no way to bring back the dead. This was an immutable truth. He had found traces of a spell from an ancient kingdom long ago that attempted to make a corpse move again to use them as soldiers who would not die even if killed, but that wasn’t what he wanted. What use was it to simply make a corpse move through magical treatment? That wasn’t what Mikhail wanted. It would only be meaningful if he returned to his side as if waking from a long sleep. Other than that, no matter where he searched in the country, the only thing repeated was that there is no way to bring back one who has left the goddess’s hand and become a citizen of the land of the dead.
If only he had known how to reach that place—whether it was the Land of the Dead or some capital city—he would have stormed in alone just to bring him back. However, he could find no trace of the Land of the Dead anywhere, leaving him to wonder if it was merely a metaphorical expression for death. It was utterly hopeless. Even if he hunted down every single person who had insulted the Duke and made them pay a wretched price, even if he threw all the idiots of the Imperial Palace into the streets, even if he cast his Elder Brother and the former Empress down to a status lower than slaves, he could not bring the Duke back to life. What meaning was there in achieving revenge for him in a world where he no longer existed? It was nothing more than a useless venting of rage. Just as rituals and memorials are ultimately procedures of parting for those left behind, the dead had already reached a point where time had stopped. Even if he wanted to return the throne to Transis and die following the Duke, he could not. This was because his father had killed every blood relative who held the right to succeed the Transis line.
Thus, every moment Mikhail breathed was akin to torture. He dared not even escape his sins through death, yet there was no way to atone; all he could do was act out in malice. It was impossible to endure while remaining sane. Every night, Mikhail entered the room where the Duke’s body was laid, clung to the coffin where the body slept, and confessed like a beast. I do not even dare to seek your [unauthorized copy]atonement. The eyes that had once shone with brilliance lost their spark, and to anyone watching, the young Emperor looked like a madman. Yet, at the same time, he was hauntingly beautiful. Rumors of the Emperor who had gone mad after losing his lover spread rapidly. Soon, opinions that the Emperor should be deposed began to emerge, centered around the Council of Elders.
But who would dare execute a monster who had single-handedly beheaded countless monsters? Even if he were not in his right mind, the hero of Osbrant remained intact, wandering the country without knowing how to give up, searching for a way. One day, while wandering the land like a beggar, having left the state affairs to the Council of Elders, Mikhail met someone who recognized him in a temple in Quilan—a place he felt he had visited once before.
“You! You’re that brat who saved the divine beast back then!”
An old woman with disheveled hair, draped in a robe that looked like a rag, approached Mikhail, waving her staff at him.
“Yes, it’s him. Mmm, there’s no way I saw wrong!”
Only then could Mikhail recall when and where he had met her. It was a long, long time ago. Back when he was an Imperial Prince rather than the Crown Prince, he had recklessly sought out the demon’s den and leaped into the source of the demonic energy to save the Duke; she was the old woman he had met at a castle he visited then. Even back then, she had been treated as a lunatic by those around her, but at the time, she at least seemed sane when she spoke normally. Now, with her hair turned white and her appearance a complete mess, she looked like a madwoman to anyone.
“Keehee, look at you! You’ve inherited the sins of your ancestors!”
The old woman seemed quite satisfied that Mikhail looked no different from her in terms of madness, circling him while letting out a bizarre laugh. With her hair loose like a banshee of legend announcing disaster and obituaries, the sight of her clapping her hands and giggling was quite eerie and chilling. Mikhail didn’t even have the energy to deal with her. Arguing with a madwoman was only a loss for him. Instead of responding, Mikhail waved his hand to shoo her away. However, the old woman paid no mind to his gesture.
“It is all the price for coveting things beyond your visit our sitestation. Your ancestor committed the sin of betraying his brother out of greed, so in your generation, that [visit our site]shameful house finally comes to an end.”
I don’t care about that. Mikhail simply wanted to rest for a while. No matter how much of a madman he was in neglecting his own body, he had to sleep and eat to continue wandering in search of a method. Since sleeping here is out of the question, it’ll be better to go outside and sleep rough. Since his eccentricities had repeated for months and years, not even a single official accompanied him anymore. He wasn’t the kind of man who would be brought down by wandering alone, especially since he wouldn’t die even if assassins were sent. Just as Mikhail finally decided to leave the temple and stepped forward, the old woman, who had been humming and muttering to herself, suddenly blurted out:
“The answer you seek is in the closest place, yet you foolishly wander in the wrong direction.”
Startled by the answer that seemed to pierce through his inner thoughts, he looked back at the old woman.
“…What is the answer I seek?”
Unlike before, when he had been quite polite, his question was rude and unrestrained. The innocent and brilliant boy had changed into a haggard young man who was hauntingly beautiful. The old woman chuckled, seemingly unbothered.
“A sinner dreams an impossible dream; such a dream can only be achieved after you have been forgiven of all your sins.”
Mikhail had already realized countless times that bringing back the dead was an impossible task. Was it just a coincidence that the ramblings of a lunatic happened to hit the mark? Just as he was about to leave the temple in disappointment again, the old woman spoke abruptly once more.
“The divine beast was told to love and help those who are created, thus it responds even to the blood of [visit our site]a sinner stained with sin, and infinite grace shall follow.”
Then, she began to hum a song in a melody that was incomprehensible, and Mikhail suddenly remembered something as if he had received a revelation. What was the trace of the divine beast closest to him? It was the Heart of Emil, kept with utmost care in the Imperial Family’s treasury. Until now, he had understood the saying that the divine beast responds only to the blood of the Imperial Family to mean inheritance through lineage. But what if it meant, in the literal sense of the words, that one must offer blood as a sacrifice to evoke a response? He had already done countless other mad things; there was no reason not to try this.
The Imperial Palace was thrown into chaos by the Emperor’s sudden return. Since he had been out of contact for a while, they had hoped he had dropped dead somewhere, but he was still perfectly alive. While everyone in the Council of Elders clicked their tongues, saying it would have been better if he had died, Mikhail ignored them and stormed into the treasury. He then took the Heart of Emil and headed to the room where the Duke’s body was laid.
Unlike Mikhail, who had become a wreck from the lovely young boy he once was, the Duke slept with a face that looked as serene and peaceful as ever. Mikhail placed the dried heart atop the glass coffin and slit his wrist with a dagger. Drip, drip. Bright red blood flowed in lines, soaking the mummified organ. Just as the blood slowly seeped deep into the withered heart, a sudden gust of wind blew, and massive wings emitting a dazzling light filled the room.
[——!!]
Whether this should be called a cry or a song, a sound that seemed beyond the reach of human knowledge echoed in his head, and a bird—similar in appearance to one he had seen before, but of a completely opposite color—suddenly appeared before his eyes. It was a sight he could not believe even while seeing it. With every flap of the bird’s wings, flowers scattered like rain, filling the wide burial chamber along with the gust of wind.
[—–!]
The divine beast spread and fluttered its wings once more, then lowered its head to look at Mikhail carefully. Then, lowering its head further to look at the Duke in the coffin, it cried out in a mournful sound. The divine beast suffered as if responding to the despair Mikhail had suppressed until now.
“Please help me, I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything… please…”
As Mikhail prostrated himself at the feet of the divine beast and begged, the divine beast rubbed its beak against Mikhail’s shoulder, as if it wanted to help if only it could.
“Please…”
The moment the divine beast attempted to unfold its folded wings at Mikhail’s desperate plea, a calm yet firm voice echoed from the back of the burial chamber.
“No. Did you not promise me? That you would no longer help indiscriminately.”
Startled, Mikhail looked toward the voice and saw a woman with a face similar to his own yet completely different, looking down at him while gently stroking the divine beast’s wing.
It was his sister, whom he had only seen in portraits and who had not even shown her face at his coronation. He could not understand how his sister, who had lost her mind at a young age and had remained hidden even during the late Emperor’s funeral, was here. As Mikhail looked up at her, frozen in shock, the woman—who possessed a strange impression that made her feel not like a human despite her resemblance to him—spoke with a cold and serene expression.
“Child, if you truly wish to repent for the sins you inherited, I shall give you a chance.”
She was speaking normally, yet her voice, which echoed in his ears like a song, was more awe-inspiring [visit our site]than any hymn echoing in a temple. As Mikhail looked up at his sister, unable to say Read on Read BL Novelsa word as if his tongue had frozen, she made a light gesture in the air, and the unauthorized copysurroundings were instantly dyed in darkness. Is this magic? While he was flustered, unable to even guess where she had sent him, a very old story began, like a puppet show.
Long ago, when the history of the Kingdom of Eredit began around the river crossing the center of the continent, there were two families who gathered people by organizing the land and spreading their popularity. Those who descended from the rugged and steep snowy mountains of the North used the name Transis, and those who came up from the fertile and abundant South, tempered by constant floods and monster invasions, used the name Osbrant. Both families claimed to be descendants of the Moon Goddess, who was benevolent yet insisted on strict principles; the Goddess, pitying her followers, gave a gift that would help the prosperity of the kingdom: a pair of divine beasts.
Cardina and Emil. The divine beasts, bound by the tie of marriage, were inseparable and always together; they were a gift meaning that the two families should not betray their loyalty and should prosper by joining forces. Cardina’s power was the power to bring what was needed into reality. Emil’s power was the power to defy the natural order. For the first few generations, both families cared for each other as if they were their own bodies and led the kingdom in harmony.
However, as time passed and the Goddess stopped intervening in the human world, and a generation came that no longer relied on the deity, the divine beasts gradually lost their power. The time they spent in the backyard of the royal palace decreased, and they frequently flew away, returning only occasionally to sleep.
After more generations passed, the lineage of those who could use magic was severed, and magicians gradually disappeared; the temples fell, and the era of humans arrived. The order as a religious group remained intact, but the priests who could hear the Goddess’s voice also saw their lineage end, just like the magicians, and their status plummeted. Now, magic was no longer a mysterious occult act whose principles were unknown, but remained only in part as a controllable scientific theory. Those who believed in the existence of God were treated as people living in foolish dreams, and it became an era where both the rulers and the ruled were corrupt.
When the stories of the Goddess and the divine beasts began to be regarded as fabricated tales like old legends, a descendant of Osbrant used Emil’s power to go back in time and plunge a knife into his brother’s back. After the Kingdom of Eredit was renamed the Osbrant Empire, Emil vomited his heart and died, and Cardina flew away and vanished forever.
The power to reverse the natural order. Only then did Mikhail realize the principle of how the Heart of Emil could be used to treat the assassin’s crown. It was not because it healed the tattered heart or withered the crown of thorns. It simply restored a part of the body to its past state. By returning the crown, which had grown vigorously and pierced the organs, back into a tiny seed.
The Goddess was benevolent to the righteous but utterly cold to sinners. The tragedy of harboring a love for someone one should not love was a punishment finally executed in Mikhail’s generation. Because by his death, not a single person inheriting the blood of Osbrant would exist. That the punishment came to the bravest, loveliest, most righteous, and purest child among those with the Osbrant name was the price for the sins committed by his ancestors. Thus, the wish of Isaac Tion Transis was fulfilled.
Since your father let you be born with cursed blood, a wretched revenge shall accompany you until the [unauthorized copy]final struggle of that fate. Mikhail thought, tears flowing hot as if his eyes were burning. If he could not escape the curse as long as he inherited the blood of Read on Read BL NovelsOsbrant, why was it that he, and not his Elder Brother, had to drown in this sin and die? At the end of thoughts that flowed like resentment, a face came to mind.
Because the House of Onegin had repeated marriages between relatives for a long time to maintain pure blood, they suffered from a genetic disease where one joint of a finger was born short. In the previous generation, the only one born with a short finger was Marquis Onegin, the current head of the house and the Empress’s brother. And in the next generation of descendants, the only one born with a short finger was Edwin, the former Crown Prince and Mikhail’s brother. And Edwin resembled his mother as if she had been taxidermied. Naturally, the Empress boasted an impression so similar to her brother that one would believe they were twins.
The Emperor was flawless as a ruler but was a famous libertine who loved women. He took the women he liked as he pleased and once had over twenty concubines. Among them, only three—Mikhail’s mother, the Empress, and an unknown concubine who gave birth to his sister—bore the Emperor’s children. After the Emperor passed away, people whispered that he had suffered from a sexually transmitted disease that rotted his body due to his promiscuous sexual life, seeing the traces of illness left on his body. But now, there was a truth to which all clues pointed. The Emperor’s hands and feet were cold, so he carried a hot water bottle every day. Occasionally, purple spots bloomed on his face, which he would cover with makeup. When all the clues were fitted into one hypothesis, they fit perfectly without a gap.
The cause of the Emperor’s death was not a venereal disease. It was the side effect of contraceptives that the Empress had secretly fed him for decades. So that the Emperor could not have any heirs from any woman other than Edwin. The reason his sister and Mikhail were born was very clear. It was because they were children born from relations that took place in tents in the middle of a battlefield. No matter how powerful the Empress was with her maiden family behind her, she could not plant people in the middle of a battle to administer the drug.
The reason she fed him a drug with the fatal side effect of rotting the body, despite many other drugs without such side effects being available on the market, was clear. That drug must have been the only one that was colorless, odorless, and tasteless, allowing it to be administered continuously without the subject noticing. The Emperor, who took his discarded consorts and concubines even to the battlefield, was also a wretched and filthy human being, but thanks to that, the Empress was able to eliminate her political rivals and solidify Edwin as the successor for a long time without any suspicion; it had actually worked out well. Until Mikhail returned to the Imperial Palace, grew up, and threatened the position of the Crown Prince.
Therefore, the curse could not possibly follow Edwin. He was merely one of the other punishments bestowed upon Osbrant, for he was not of the Osbrant bloodline.
Finally, the long story ended, and Mikhail returned to the burial chamber. The Goddess with his sister’s face held a scale in one hand. On one side of the scale lay a crystal-white crystal. And on the other side lay a very small seed.
“Child, I shall give you a brief moment of time. If you receive true forgiveness from him during the time given, the crown of thorns shall return to a seed. However, if you are not forgiven by him by the day the red moon rises, the thorns shall grow through your heart and you shall die. There is no way to stop the growth of that seed until you are forgiven by him.”
Screech, screech. The scale in the Goddess’s hand shook precariously due [stolen content]to a gust of wind blowing from somewhere. The Goddess looked down at Mikhail with a still cold face and said:
“Would it not be fair to give each of the two children one chance?”
Years ago, the Goddess responded to the call of the child of Transis. Now, it was her turn to show final mercy to the cursed child of Osbrant. Immediately after the Goddess’s final words, a gust of wind swept through the burial chamber again, and the surroundings were filled with a rain of flowers.
And a moment later, when the flurry of flowers stopped and Mikhail regained consciousness, he had returned to the time just before the final test to become the Crown Prince.
Enjoying the story?Support me on Ko-fi
Comments 0
You must be logged in to comment.
No comments yet. Be the first!