Episode 119
Tears gushed from Cyril’s wounded golden eyes.
“Wh-why is that? Even after things have come to this, even after I kneel before you, am I not pitiable at all?”
“Pitiable?”
Callisteon retorted as if he had heard something utterly absurd.
In truth, he found this situation very hard to comprehend.
He hadn’t even imagined that Cyril might have been waiting for his answer.
Because there was absolutely no reason for him to give her one.
It was the same principle as not answering every single street vendor one passes on the road.
But Cyril, for some deeply grievous reason, began to wail loudly.
Callisteon only wanted to end this tiresome situation and head to his training room, but as he listened, he grew a little curious.
“But tell me, during those times when you could summon me to kneel at your feet whenever you wished, simply because your status was slightly higher, did you ever pity me?”
Feeling wronged even in this state, Cyril screamed back.
“I am a Princess! I was the Emperor’s only legitimate daughter!”
Now confined to a monastery, she rambled on about her past as if she had lost her mind.
“Everyone was desperate to kiss the back of my hand, and I chose you specially! A mere second son from a minor country without succession rights! Do you think that’s a reason for you to be pitied?!”
“…If I didn’t wish for it, doesn’t that make it rather pitiful enough?”
He spoke as if mocking himself, then added.
“Second Princess, you seem genuinely unaware, so let me enlighten you. From the first time I saw you at twelve years old, I found you disgusting. And it has been that way ever since, right up until now.”
Cyril sobbed, gasping for breath, but Callisteon’s eyes remained perfectly calm.
He continued in an even tone.
“Fate made you my Academy junior, and following the former family head’s order to show all due respect to the imperial family, every time I knelt before you, I pitied myself and felt ashamed in equal measure. I was afraid I might never be able to rescue my beloved from your vicious grasp.”
“That girl! What’s so special about her! If you were so lonely, why didn’t you speak up? If you wanted someone to sneak into your bedchamber unnoticed at night, I could have…!”
“Do you wish to lose your tongue?”
Callisteon’s voice didn’t change in the slightest even as he said that.
That, finally, made it terrifying.
Cyril had to realize anew just how lofty and unyielding the man she had long believed she could manipulate truly was.
As she finally fell silent, Callisteon shook his head and turned to the guards.
He had no obligation to respond to a wild animal’s cries; he had wasted time on something unnecessary.
“This thing managed to sneak all the way to the top of the stairs?”
The guard bowed his head deeply.
“It seems the search was lax because it’s a woman. Please allow us to execute it.”
This thing.
He didn’t say ‘this person’ or ‘this woman’, but ‘this thing‘.
While Cyril was reeling from the shock, Callisteon issued his commands.
“Deduct half a month’s pay from all members of the main guard detail who let this thing pass through. If this thing ever appears before my eyes again, you must be prepared to lose your own. Because I, for my part, wish never to see it again that much.”
“We will remember, Your Grace!”
Callisteon was silent for a moment before speaking again.
“Personally, it’s regrettable, but even though this thing has been expelled, it is still a Princess and an imperial citizen, so I cannot judge it by Babenberg law. I also have no desire to incur unnecessary scandal ahead of the sacred national wedding. Open the gates if you must, but escort it back to Sebitol immediately. Once it is outside the Duchy’s borders, I don’t care if you abandon it on the mountainside.”
“Understood, Your Excellency.”
Cyril couldn’t move until the guards dragged her away, stumbling.
She simply shed endless tears, as if all the fluid was draining from her body.
The path she had taken, trampling over all sorts of adversities to get there, had been difficult.
But the journey back to the Empire after being cast out by Callisteon was surprisingly easy.
The Babenberg guards, seemingly very uncomfortable with binding and dragging a woman who, though expelled, was still a Princess, dumped Cyril like a piece of luggage near Sebitol Monastery and left.
Weeping, she examined her state.
The shabby maid’s uniform was crumpled and soiled, and her restrained wrists were chafed raw and oozing.
But the physical pain was nothing compared to the Grand Duke’s contemptuous gaze.
‘He said I was disgusting…’
It wasn’t just words.
Callisteon had treated her like trash.
Even after she abandoned the last shred of her pride as a woman and clung to him, he had threatened to cut out her tongue in that unaffected voice.
“You know well of the Grand Duke’s mercy, don’t you? Moreover, he is a knight by background. He cannot mistreat a pitiful woman.”
Cyril cursed her uncle for having said that.
If her uncle hadn’t been so confident, she wouldn’t have had to go to him and suffer such humiliation.
Despite having been the one who most expected the chivalrous Grand Duke to show her sympathy, Cyril habitually blamed others.
She stared blankly at the monastery not far away.
She had nowhere to go.
The money from the pouch her uncle had given her had dwindled significantly after being used to sneak out of the monastery and infiltrate Babenberg.
What if she bought a new identity and left the Empire?
By then, she would have almost no money left.
She’d have to cut her red hair short, and probably never be able to grow it long again.
And even then, she’d be hunted by the Imperial Army for the rest of her life…
‘Maybe I should just go back to the monastery and beg for forgiveness.’
The monastery monks, while paying her little mind, were fundamentally good people.
Even if she had run away briefly, if she returned repentant, she could be forgiven and live quietly in her corner room as before.
She had only been absent from the monastery for about a fortnight; with luck, it might not even have been reported to the Imperial Palace yet.
After all, unlike her parents, she wasn’t an important figure with political influence.
Just as she hesitated, making these calculations, a rough hand suddenly grabbed her, making Cyril let out a sharp scream.
“Aah!”
Someone dragged her into the dark bushes and a gloved hand roughly covered her mouth.
“Shh, quiet!”
It was only when Chirilla, struggling, realized the man’s voice was not unfamiliar that she stopped kicking.
Gideon finally released her and clicked his tongue.
“I waited nearby just in case… Why are you back already? What’s so hard about sneaking naked into the Grand Duke’s bedchamber!”
Tears of resentment welled up in Cyril’s eyes again.
“Into that heavily guarded castle! How could I do it alone! Dressed in these wretched, beggarly clothes!”
She wept, clutching and tearing at the apron of the maid’s uniform.
She wanted to kill her uncle, who complained so blithely without knowing what hardships she had endured to return.
“You don’t know how I begged before that man!”
Gideon stared intently at his sobbing niece.
Although she was pathetic, having failed at a simple task and returned, seeing her suffer like this, having lost her family like he had, stirred an unexpected sense of gratification within him.
His sister, the deposed Empress, shouldn’t have gone mad and found peace alone.
If his sister wouldn’t take responsibility for all this, then her daughter should repay the debt in her stead.
Unaware of Gideon’s true feelings, Cyril poured out her grievances.
“The Grand Duke treated me like a bug! Like trash…”
The corners of Gideon’s mouth twitched as if suppressing a smile.
In his eyes, Cyril, having failed once, had returned as an even more usable game piece.
His niece had no further to fall, and her resentment was her driving force.
He was now confident he could manipulate Chirilla to his liking.
Gideon whispered insidiously.
“That’s how men with children are, Cyril. All that low-born sister of yours has is the Grand Duke’s bloodline, but men, by nature, are moved by their own blood. They become blind to everything else.”
Cyril trembled with rage.
Hearing it, it made sense.
Even this meek man, who had been her mother’s lackey, was this enraged after having his child taken away.
Cyril had never even imagined this man shouting at her in her entire life.
So, she cursed the baby she had never even seen.
‘I wish that child would just die!’
