Chapter : 26
Truly, on this day more than any other, Regis could not help but resent the late emperor.
Outside the banquet hall, despair was etched deeply across his face. Even in this situation, the fact that he could say nothing to Cassielope was utterly lamentable.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Lope…”
Regis, who had been barely holding himself together, finally collapsed.
At the same time, his breathing grew ragged. After a searing, tearing pain ran through him, dark blood poured from between his lips.
“Cough—!”
Though he tried to block it with his hands, the blood dripped onto the floor.
“…Your Grace, the Duke?”
Ian, who had been walking from afar, noticed Regis and slowly approached.
As the distance closed enough for him to clearly see, Ian’s eyes widened in shock.
The corridor was dim, and Regis had his back turned, making it hard to see, but on closer inspection, he was vomiting blood.
Ian rushed to him urgently. Under normal circumstances, he might have looked away, but this was no time for that.
“What on earth…?!”
The sheer amount of blood left Ian momentarily breathless. Regis’s entire body, which had never seemed fragile, was now dyed red.
Ian’s gaze wavered. It was neither satisfaction nor pity.
It was confusion at seeing the vulnerability of someone he had considered absolutely strong laid bare, defenseless.
“Are you all right—!”
Ian, checking on Regis, froze the moment their eyes met.
Had Duc Euriell’s eyes always been this dark red?
It wasn’t a thought appropriate for the situation, but instinctively, he could not suppress the strangeness he felt. That was not the aura of a human.
Instinctively, Ian stepped back from Regis.
Regis, in turn, reached toward him, a hand as if to grasp something.
‘What is he… trying to grab?’
In the next instant, Regis snatched the quill pen from Ian’s shirt pocket and, without hesitation, stabbed it into his own thigh.
“Wh-what are you doing?!”
Startled by the sudden act of self-harm, Ian shouted. He tried to stop him by grabbing Regis’s hand, but the more he tried, the deeper Regis drove the quill.
“Are you insane? Why are you doing this, Your Grace?!”
“…Quiet… quiet. Lower… your voice…”
Regis spoke with difficulty.
Once again, their eyes met midair.
Had Ian imagined it? Regis’s eyes, which had seemed dark red, were now their usual blue.
“Listen to me carefully…”
“What—!”
“Take me to my room… without anyone knowing. Absolutely, no one… must know… especially…”
With every word, the metallic tang of blood filled the air. Regis’s face twisted as though suppressing immense pain.
“Lope… the Empress… must… never know…”
With those words, Regis’s body slumped. His breathing was irregular, but he seemed to have briefly lost consciousness.
“What in the world is happening…?”
What was this coughing up of blood? Why the self-harm? And why must the Emperor be kept in the dark? Nothing made sense.
Ian looked down at the fallen Regis and draped one of his arms over his shoulder to support him.
Though he couldn’t understand, Ian decided to follow his instructions this time.
“Lope… the Empress… must… never know…”
Because the desperation in his words was unmistakable.
Ian laid Regis on the bed and hesitated over whether to call a palace physician. Regis had insisted it be kept secret, but his condition looked quite serious.
“Haa…”
Ian exhaled deeply and began searching for a medical kit somewhere in the room. As expected, it was under the bed.
Fortunately, the bleeding had stopped, so the first priority was tending the quill wound in his thigh.
Ian cut away the hem of Regis’s trousers to disinfect and bandage the wound. When he saw the exposed state, his face froze like stone.
“All of this…”
What was all this?
Regis’s condition was beyond words.
There were countless slash wounds, as if from knives—at a rough estimate, over thirty.
These weren’t scars; they were fresh wounds, inflicted not long ago.
Having seen them firsthand, Ian could not imagine how they had come to be otherwise.
“Huh…”
He sighed, stunned.
Did Regis think he was some kind of immortal? It was horrifying to behold. At this point, it was a miracle he was still alive.
After leaving the banquet hall following the dance, Regis did not return.
Since the event doubled as a war send-off ceremony, the Emperor should have been present, yet Regis was nowhere to be seen.
“Seeing that Counselor Ian is not at his seat, it seems he is accompanying him,” Cassielope concluded.
Reluctantly, she decided to proceed with the banquet alone.
“The Emperor has urgent matters to attend to, so I will conduct the proceedings,” she explained.
Having done this many times, Cassielope found the current situation more convenient. When Regis was present, she couldn’t act freely without feeling obstructed.
“Although this banquet is held for the send-off ceremony, I have one announcement to make first.”
All eyes turned to Cassielope. No one was unaware that her announcement would relate to the selection of concubines.
Which family would claim the dishonorable yet prestigious position was the Empire’s greatest concern.
“Lavia Yurtina, Silvia Florence, Bianca Hetsen, and Helena Bletin.”
Everyone was puzzled by the four names called in succession.
They had expected a single concubine selection—why four?
Some perceptive nobles exchanged incredulous glances.
Could it be… no, surely not.
Cassielope smiled quietly, yet sharply.
“These four shall be selected as concubines.”
The murmur grew louder. The shock was even greater than when she had first mentioned selecting a concubine.
Count Florence shook his head violently, denying reality. He staggered toward Cassielope.
“Y-you never said… that there would be four concubines…”
“I never said there would be only one either.”
“This is impossible…”
“Why such expressions? You should be glad, Count. Did I not promise to provide a satisfactory answer for all of you?”
“…Your Majesty!”
“Oh? Count, you seem quite pleased indeed, raising your voice so.”
Count Florence’s face contorted completely, and the reactions of Count Yurtina and Viscount Hetsen were no better.
It was a position both humiliating yet exalted—that of the Emperor’s concubine.
The only reason such mutually exclusive things could coexist was that, aside from the Empress, they would be the sole women of the Emperor.
In other words, their honor stemmed from being the only ones. Multiple concubines would reduce them to mere mistresses.
Having expected only one concubine, they had applied in confidence. If they had known multiple would be selected, they would never have tried.
“This is… still—!”
“Even if it’s not the Empress, why is there a problem, Count Florence?”
There was none. And that was the problem.
The nobles’ faces flushed red and blue as they realized they had been thoroughly outmaneuvered by the Empress.
“What are you all doing? You should welcome the new concubines of the Clemens Empire.”
Most nobles, dazed, clapped at her words.
By making the announcement in a formal setting, there was no turning back. Count Florence staggered, mentally shocked.
They had been completely outplayed by the Empress.
