chapter 21
After he opened his eyes, Theodore recovered quickly.
Esther didn’t come in and out of her room as often as Fiorentia had expected, but she always prepared two portions of food.
“Desdemona must really think I’m playing house with a doll or something.”
Looking at the generous portions, Fiorentia muttered under her breath.
Officially, Theodore was a doll without a will of his own.
But biologically speaking, he was still alive, so he was capable of eating.
So Desdemona and her lackeys seemed to think Fiorentia was continuing some sort of feeding-the-doll game with Theodore, and that was why they kept sending enough food for two.
‘If we’re being precise, though, it’s probably closer to mockery than kindness.’
Sometimes, in front of Esther, Fiorentia would even put on a show of feeding Theodore herself.
It was all to make herself look as foolish as possible in her eyes.
“Ugh.”
Fiorentia shook her head, looking thoroughly fed up.
After finishing their meal, the two sat facing each other.
Without delay, Fiorentia revealed her plan.
“Theodore. Listen carefully. I’m going to get you out of here during the Three Dukes’ Council.”
“The Three Dukes’ Council?”
Theodore frowned and looked at her as if asking whether she was serious.
Meeting his gaze with complete sincerity, Fiorentia slowly nodded.
“That’s a method I hadn’t thought of.”
Theodore let out a short laugh and scratched his temple with his fingertip.
At the very top of the Ritzen Empire stood the exalted Emperor, and beneath him were the three ducal houses.
Beringham, called the “Mortal One.”
Theodore, called the “Life-Bearer.”
And finally Marcella, called the “Concealer.”
To explain why they were known by these titles, one would have to go far back—to the founding of the empire.
The first Emperor of the Ritzen Empire had wished to provide a safe homeland for the people who believed in and followed him.
But there was no suitable land left on the continent.
So the first Emperor and his three most trusted vassals spent countless days and nights in discussion.
At last, they chose a place.
It was the territory of the dark dragon, Besamut.
The first Emperor boldly set out.
Of course, he had the support of the three houses behind him.
Besamut had just laid an egg and fought fiercely to protect its offspring.
After more than a hundred days of battle, the first Emperor finally pierced the dragon’s reverse scale and took its life.
But there was one problem.
As the dark dragon Besamut lay dying, it cast a curse upon the first Emperor.
[You who are drenched in my blood.
You have ended my lineage, so I shall curse you in return.
My curse will flow through your blood.
You shall never escape the cocoon of agony.
With your limbs torn and your blood boiling in pain, you will come to long for death.
So go on—live, if you can.
Live forever upon this land stained with my flesh and blood.]
The words of a dragon are powerful.
Besamut’s curse seeped into his blood.
And at that moment, only one person had been drenched in the dragon’s blood—the first Emperor.
When Besamut died, some of the dragon’s supernatural abilities were also passed on along with the curse.
The first Emperor did not keep them for himself. Instead, he shared them with the three who had stood by him—Theodore, Beringham, and Marcella.
That was the beginning of the special powers possessed by the three ducal houses.
However, this legend was never spread among the common people.
The imperial family did not wish it to be known that the very foundation of the nation had begun alongside the curse of a transcendent being.
Thus, only the imperial bloodline and the three ducal families knew the truth.
At first, the first Emperor did not take the curse seriously.
It was only natural for a dying being to harbor deep resentment, so he paid it little mind.
But unfortunately, the dragon’s curse was real, and soon a shadow fell over the imperial family.
Beginning with the first Emperor, his descendants were tormented by inexplicable pain generation after generation.
Not all were born mad.
But whoever ascended the throne—without exception—the curse manifested.
“Ah! It hurts! It hurts so much! If only I could cast off this body at once!”
“Theodore. Please save me.”
“Beringham. Protect me from those who seek my life.”
“Marcella. Please grant my soul some rest.”
Yet no one could find a way to cure the Emperor’s madness.
Marcella, who possessed the power of sorcery, drew the poisonous energy from the Emperor’s body and transferred it into a cursed doll—but it was not enough.
Besamut had been the last dragon, so there was no way to discover how to lift a dragon’s curse.
The loyal vassals could only search for ways to ease his suffering.
They found one solution: when the madness grew uncontrollable, the Emperor would be put into a deep sleep.
Thus, the imperial family introduced the system known as “vacation.”
To the public, it appeared that the overworked Emperor was taking an extended leave.
In truth, he was falling into a long sleep to escape the pain.
The House of Theodore, which possessed healing powers, would enter the palace and put the Emperor to sleep.
While the Emperor withdrew from state affairs, someone had to govern the nation.
But if one of the three ducal houses monopolized that authority, it would surely sow discord.
So Beringham, Theodore, and Marcella reached an agreement.
During the Emperor’s vacation, state affairs would be handled through the Three Dukes’ Council.
The Council was held twice a year at the imperial palace, lasting fifteen days each time. The heads of the three houses would enter the palace during that period.
And except for the imperial conference room and their assigned quarters, they were not allowed to leave or meet anyone.
In other words, it was the perfect time for Theodore to escape from the House of Marcella.
“By then, Desdemona’s interest in you and me will have cooled down as well.”
With that brief explanation, Fiorentia finished outlining her plan.
Outwardly, Theodore remained expressionless, but inwardly he was surprised.
To be honest, before hearing her plan, he hadn’t expected much.
He had assumed he would have to find his own way out.
‘I have to admit it. It’s a clever move.’
If his memory was correct, the Emperor would soon enter his long sleep.
And there were just over one hundred days left until the first Council convened.
Theodore thought that perhaps this time would not be so dull after all.
Fiorentia let out a silent, crooked smile.
The faint laugh that slipped past her lips was blocked by her mask and bounced back against her own soft skin.
‘At this rate, it might crack.’
Ever since she had come out of the bath, she had felt Theodore’s gaze following her.
Logically, she understood why he was acting this way.
He must have many questions.
Especially about her—the one helping him.
He would want to know her identity and her intentions.
‘But that doesn’t mean I need to volunteer every little detail.’
Though Theodore had said nothing, Fiorentia could tell that he liked her plan to help him escape during the Council.
But trusting her was another matter entirely.
She thought it only natural that he remained wary.
‘Besides, if we’re being honest, the advantage between us clearly lies with Theodore.’
After all, in the future, he was the one who would wipe out the House of Marcella.
Fiorentia did not forget that one day she might have to beg Theodore for mercy to save her life.
‘Helping him now, while he’s in trouble, and placing him in my debt—that’s part of the same strategy.’
Still, there was no need to grovel excessively.
That was a story for the future.
