Chapter 237
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
The wandering gypsies of the borderlands were not recognized as imperial citizens. They were refugees who had crossed over from neighboring foreign lands.
Born neither within the empire nor having undergone any official immigration process, they held no rights or status. They were destined to live as nomads their entire lives, eventually dying as such.
“Red hair is quite rare.”
That was the first thing the Grand Duke said after discovering Esther lying face down on the ground.
“As far as I know, it’s a trait only found among the royal family of Amasril…”
His gaze suggested he knew something. The Grand Duke gave a displeased glance at the woman, who had long red hair trailing down as her forehead touched the earth, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Even in the vast Nikephos Empire—the most populous on the continent—red hair was uncommon. Among the people he knew, the only noble with red hair was Countess Kirilovna, a relative of the Empress.
Even she inherited her red hair from her great-grandmother who was Amasrilian. Finding anyone with pure imperial blood and red hair was nearly impossible. And the blood-red shade? The Grand Duke had only ever seen it once in his life.
It was during the empire’s conquest and invasion of Amasril, when all surviving Amasril royalty had to be executed. The Grand Duke had seen the late king’s hair—bright as fresh blood.
But then… why was there a red-haired woman, bearing a trait said to belong only to Amasril royalty, in the borderlands owned by Kristin?
“Look up.”
A suspicion formed in the Grand Duke’s mind—not quite suspicion, more like an unsettling certainty. He fully realized how absurd it was, but the gypsy woman’s red hair irritated him strangely.
“…!”
At the moment he looked at her face, the Grand Duke absurdly recalled the last king of Amasril. The woman’s hair wasn’t the only resemblance. She had thick eyebrows, a straight nose, and firm lips—features uncommon for a woman.
The Grand Duke quickly sifted through his memories to calculate the possibility of surviving Amasril royalty.
The king was dead—his head severed by the Grand Duke’s own hands. Then the queen, who was deliberately spared and sold as a slave to Count Schuck.
And their two children—what became of them?
He couldn’t recall. After some thought, the Grand Duke remembered a report that the previous Duke Kristin had personally eliminated the young prince and princess.
At that time, trusting the Grand Duke implicitly, he never considered verifying it himself. Surely, the Grand Duke wouldn’t secretly spare the young royal children?
‘Surely not.’
Smuggling enemy royalty was a grave crime against the Emperor. The Grand Duke had no reason to risk such a thing. At least, that’s what he believed.
Though the gypsy woman did not fit the classic beauty standard, she exuded a mysterious aura. Despite her low status and the inability to even look up to him, she showed no sign of bowing her pride
Arrogant woman… Yet from that arrogance, the Grand Duke felt a surge of conquest. There was something about her that stirred the man’s heart—a certain seductive defiance.
Licking his lips, the Grand Duke ordered the gypsy woman to be brought closer.
“A strangely peculiar woman.”
The gypsy woman didn’t answer. Some pride could be attractive, but ignorance and insolence must be corrected with discipline.
As the Grand Duke nodded, the guards lunged forward, kicking the gypsy woman. Because she continued to be defiant, they began punishing her severely, intending to break her spirit.
The woman’s frail body couldn’t withstand the knights’ strength. She soon collapsed. The Grand Duke raised his hand to stop the assault.
“Lift your skirt.”
When she staggered under the blows, her long legs were revealed—legs the Grand Duke found very enticing. Feeling his body respond, he issued the command.
“I am not a courtesan.”
“Arrogant woman… Looks like the beating wasn’t enough.”
The knights resumed their relentless assault, kicking every inch of her body—the legs, chest, stomach, arms, and even her head—leaving no part untouched.
Yet she never uttered a groan. Whether she knew it angered the Grand Duke more or not, she shielded her head with her hands and curled into a protective ball, though it was of little use.
“Enough.”
The woman was unconscious, motionless. At the Grand Duke’s gesture, the knights stepped back.
Her clothes were torn and shredded from the repeated kicks. As she curled her legs, the Grand Duke’s eyes caught sight beneath her skirt.
“Is that… a scar?”
There was a large scar on the inside of her thigh.
“Tsk. I nearly dragged this damaged thing into my bed.”
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