Episode 30: New Year’s Gift
After Ella finished her meal and returned to her room, the Duke changed into a black shirt — one that would not show even if blood splattered — and headed to the basement of the annex.
As the small annex next to the stables was currently unused, no one saw the Duke heading there.
A knight, standing guard in the musty basement that reeked of mold from lack of sunlight, saluted him.
“Duke, you have arrived.”
The knight swallowed dryly, tense at the Duke’s unusually lethal aura today.
“Nothing happened overnight?”
“Ah, yes, nothing special. But among that man’s belongings, there was something strange.”
The knight had confiscated all of Joshua’s possessions the night before, and among them had found a peculiar powder.
The Duke sniffed the white powder the knight handed him and frowned.
*Why is this here…?*
At first it seemed scentless, yet a faint sweet aroma lingered. The Duke recalled a drug that once spread among soldiers during wartime.
“Phillum.”
The knight flinched, shocked.
“W-What? Phillum? This is Phillum?”
In the Empire, the trafficking of Phillum was punished as severely as human trafficking.
Phillum was made by drying the root of the Mushimo flower. In small doses, it acted as a painkiller — but continued use caused severe addiction, hallucinations, and eventually death.
There was once a time when Phillum secretly circulated among injured soldiers on the battlefield, and the Duke had even publicly executed dealers to root it out.
“Which fool brought Phillum into the Empire?”
The knight asked, shaken by the realization of what he had confiscated.
“I’ll have to find out. You may go.”
The Duke took the Phillum and entered the room where Joshua was held.
The knight watched him enter, quietly slipped outside, and prayed for Joshua’s soul. Today would likely be his last day alive.
“U-Urrgh, cough—! K-Keugh!”
The Duke removed the gag from Joshua’s mouth. Freed, Joshua coughed violently, even tearing up.
“M-My lord Duke, I’m sorry! I’m truly sorry! Please… spare me…”
Having not had a drop of water all night, Joshua’s dry voice trembled as he begged pitifully.
“Where did you get this?”
Ignoring the pleas, the Duke asked about the source of the Phillum.
“T-The slavers told me to try it— I don’t know much! The secretary of the trafficking group gave it to me! If you interrogate him, you’ll learn everything!”
Clinging to the hope that cooperation might earn mercy, Joshua answered quickly.
“That’s really all?”
“Yes, yes — that’s all I know!”
As a low-ranking member, Joshua knew little about the organization.
“I see. Then you have nothing more to offer me — and you must now pay for yesterday.”
The Duke looked down at Joshua, who crawled at his feet like a dog begging for life, then pulled the sword hanging on the wall.
“S-Spare me! Please!”
The Duke remembered the devastation he felt when he heard Ella had been kidnapped, and slowly approached.
“You’ve done something you never should have. A life isn’t enough to repay it. Beg forgiveness from Ella — in pain.”
Outside the thick basement door, Joshua’s horrific screams echoed for hours without pause.
When dusk fell and the sun disappeared, the Duke removed his bloodstained gloves and opened the rusted door to leave.
The knight guarding outside silently handed him a towel. Wiping the blood off his face and clothes, the Duke ordered:
“Take the corpse to the guards’ headquarters quietly — make sure the captain doesn’t run his mouth.”
The knight swallowed and nodded.
That night, a small wagon quietly left the Duke’s estate and entered the capital guard post, unnoticed.
—
A few days after Ella’s kidnapping — the New Year came. Snow fell, covering the world in white.
As snow piled on the old-fashioned ducal manor, the scenery resembled a painting. Yet the beauty contrasted sharply with the harsh wind rattling the window panes.
Preparing breakfast for the Duke, Ella looked out at the snowy scene and instead of tea prepared warm milk with honey, then headed to his bedroom.
“My lord, breakfast.”
When Ella set down warm honeyed milk and butter rolls, the Duke looked at her curiously.
“Milk…?”
He wasn’t a child — why milk?
“It’s cold today. Even with the fireplace lit, you might catch a cold if you aren’t careful.”
The Duke let out a dry chuckle. A cold? He had survived ten years on icy battlefield floors with only a blanket and never fell ill. Still, he couldn’t refuse something she prepared herself, so he took a sip.
Warmth spread through his chilled body.
“…Not bad.”
Finding it better than expected, he drank the milk entirely. Ella, watching from the side, smiled softly and began tidying the room.
While straightening the wrinkled sheets, she noticed a small sculpture on the bedside table.
“This is…”
It was the Imago statue she had given him.
Though faint cracks remained, the statue that had once shattered into pieces was now flawlessly restored, as if no fragment was missing.
“Oh — the jeweler managed to repair it.”
Ella paused, staring at the sculpture, and the Duke spoke casually.
“You even had it repaired? It’s not worth much…”
Ella acted indifferent, smoothing the sheets, though her heart fluttered at seeing he’d cherished and restored her broken gift.
“I liked it. And — open the pouch beside it.”
He pointed at a black velvet pouch. Inside, lay a bracelet studded with small emeralds.
“You gave me a New Year’s gift — I should return the gesture.”
The emerald bracelet glowed softly, like Ella’s light green eyes.
Ella shook her head, overwhelmed.
“This is too much.”
A priceless emerald bracelet in return for a simple glass ornament — far too extravagant.
“It’s nothing to me. Just take it.”
As she hesitated, trying to put the bracelet back, the Duke fastened it around her wrist himself.
“Wear it always.”
Ella could only nod. She touched the bracelet awkwardly, then glanced at the empty cup.
“Shall I bring you another glass of milk?”
He hesitated — then nodded. Surprisingly, warm milk suited him.
Ella returned with a kettle filled with milk and set it atop the bedroom fireplace.
Outside, snow fell like flower petals — beautiful and calm. The milk began to simmer, filling the room with a sweet aroma.
The two spent a peaceful morning together. The Duke, feeling unusually at ease, considered postponing work for the day. But an unwelcome letter from the imperial palace arrived on the first day of the new year.
*Knock knock*
“Duke, a message from the palace.”
“Come in.”
The butler handed him a letter sealed with the imperial crest. The Duke stared at it for a long time without opening it, until Ella silently handed him a paper knife.
“Damn. What now?”
He opened it reluctantly — and his expression twisted.
“Ella — we’ll have to stay in the palace for a while.”
“What? The palace?”
“Yes. They appointed me as chief escort for the Hanfen Kingdom delegation.”
Normally, the Imperial Knight Order handled escorting foreign envoys. Appointing the Duke suddenly, so close to their arrival, was strange.
“They chose you instead of the Knight Commander?”
“Yes. Quite troublesome.”
“But why suddenly? The Hanfen delegation visits every year.”
“There’s a rumor — that the Second Prince, not the Princess, will welcome them this year. That could be the reason.”
“If so, Her Highness will not sit quietly…”
“Indeed. If she secures the Hanfen Kingdom’s support, it will greatly aid her claim to the throne — so she won’t back down.”
Ella felt uneasy.
“You might be dragged into their conflict.”
The Duke tapped the desk with his fingers.
“We’ll find out what that old fox is planning.”
