Chapter 63
They say you can’t hide your bloodline, and the young prince, in a different way, bore a certain resemblance to the Emperor when he was young—a certain ‘ruthlessness’.
While handling the arrangements for Louisa Kloze’s body, he had privately given Marquis Elva a suggestion. Though they couldn’t pull people out of the mad Emperor’s claws, they could at least ensure those claws would come back scarred.
“Bring poison into the palace.”
At first, the Marquis didn’t understand what he meant. But soon, realizing that he meant ‘venereal disease’, his face went pale.
“But, Your Highness…”
The previous Emperor had died of syphilis, contracted through reckless affairs. It was only natural that the current Emperor, aware of this, took precautions.
He indulged in his vices, but fearing an early death, he strictly vetted the expensive courtesans brought to the palace. Like buying merchandise, courtesans were tested for illness beforehand, and the responsibility lay with the brothels if any were admitted with disease.
But what about noblewomen? What about the daughters of noble houses?
Most were simply dragged away as soon as they caught the Emperor’s eye. Testing? It was unnecessary. Noblewomen known to carry diseases were often cast out of their families, and rumors would circulate, whether they had contracted it through personal indiscretion or not.
The Emperor, knowing this, had never hesitated to take them.
“To deliberately contract a disease…”
The surest way to contract syphilis was through s****l contact, the disease being transmitted from one partner to another. But what life awaited them afterward?
To be taken by the Emperor was already a humiliation—how could he suggest they bear this, too? As the Marquis looked at him with disbelief, the young prince replied with a calm, waxen expression.
“It’s simply a choice.”
“….”
“If it were me, I would have done it.”
When noblewomen with husbands and children suffer such indignities, they often hang themselves. Unmarried young ladies meet a similar fate—ruined reputations lead them to convents, where life is a fate worse than death.
So, why not, instead of dying alone, bring down their enemy with them? The Crown Prince’s words left Marquis Elva in a cold sweat. Because the underlying meaning was clear.
“My mother…the Empress…is already prepared.”
If the Emperor descended to such depths, the Empress herself wouldn’t escape his sickness. The prince gave a short laugh at this bitter reality. Then, with a maturity beyond his years, he looked at the Marquis and asked,
“The imperial authority comes from duty and responsibility.”
“Your Highness…”
“Which of us, now, is fulfilling that duty and responsibility?”
No one. No one at all.
As long as they couldn’t stop the Emperor’s rampage, there would be no one left to uphold their responsibilities.
“Someone has to bear the cost.”
If my mother fulfills her duty with her life, then I will carry on her will and devote my own life to fulfilling my responsibilities.
“Deliver this message on my behalf.”
Though the choice was theirs, he would bear the shame. With his limited mind, he saw no other way to reduce the casualties. If they knew of a better way, he challenged them to share it. His chilling smile made him resemble Ernst in a way.
Just as Ernst once couldn’t bear to let go of the maid he loved, the prince couldn’t let go of his course. Those who wore that determined smile always ended up getting what they wanted, whether through obsession, persistence, or force.
Unaware of Kainri’s thoughts, Ernst spoke bluntly.
“A kid like him, already this twisted.”
He held back from saying, ‘He’s disturbingly like you,’ but he held his tongue as Lilian giggled, kicking her arms and legs.
“Twisted, twisted!”
“No, Lilian, enough of that. Daddy made a mistake.”
Just as Julie always said, you shouldn’t say such things in front of a child.
Holding Lilian’s tiny hand as she babbled, Ernst narrowed his eyes. For a moment, Kainri felt a chill.
While he knew Ernst was different from the Emperor, there was something unsettling about the look in his eyes when something had him completely fixated. That same intense gaze seemed almost hereditary among the imperial bloodline.
For Ernst, the object of that gaze was Julie. For the Emperor, it was his lust. For the Crown Prince…
With Kainri silent in thought, Ernst finally sighed and waved him off.
“Go on. I’ll have someone deliver the message you requested.”
“Ernst…”
“He’s bent on going down with the ship; who’s going to stop him?”
The easiest solution was to walk away. So why couldn’t they? Ernst’s question left Kainri in thoughtful silence.
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.