#28. The Reason the Tyrant Avoided Her
I froze at the sight before me—something I had never seen before.
Green smoke drifted through every corner of Susan’s body.
Everyone else had red blotches… why is Susan’s the only one green? And it’s even moving instead of pooling in one place. This is the first time I’ve seen that.
As befit the holy relic of the Goddess of Healing, Morasinthia’s Eyes reflected everything I wished to see—blood vessels, organs, bones, muscles—without missing a single detail.
They would even reveal where the problems lay.
Otherwise, how would someone like me, no doctor, know anything at all?
But this time was different.
The goddess’s eyes were silent, and all I could do was speculate based on my meager experience.
The ominous feeling that always came with the red blotches is completely absent. Does that mean Susan has no illness? How is that possible?
Even now, the green smoke was lazily swimming through her like a leisurely fish.
Apart from that, every part of her body was perfectly normal.
Impossible. Truly bizarre.
“Susan. You said you’ve been frail since childhood, didn’t you?”
“My grandfather tried everything, but they never even discovered the name of the illness.”
“No wonder you took an interest in medicine.”
“I just wanted to heal myself. It hasn’t borne fruit yet, though.”
“Still, aren’t you healthier now than before?”
“I wish that were true… but I still collapse suddenly, just like always. I’m fine one moment and then—gone.”
“Can I ask what it feels like?”
Susan fell into thought for a moment, then slowly spoke.
“It feels like wind blowing inside my body. Sometimes it comes gradually, sometimes like a storm. Once it starts, I burn with fever and then… my consciousness cuts off completely.”
“Do you feel any warning signs beforehand?”
“Not at all. That’s what makes it so terrifying.”
“It really is frightening. And strange, too—no diagnosis at all.”
“Why are you asking?”
“I heard Lord Douglas used to read to you often. That you were the reason he began writing novels?”
I casually deflected the topic, taking off my monocle.
Susan looked delighted, happy to recall fond memories.
“That’s right! Listening to my brother’s stories was the most fun thing in the world.”
“And he never took an interest in medicine?”
“My brother was more drawn to theology.”
“I’ve heard the Nettleton Marquisate has many devout followers of Morasinthia.”
“That’s why the First Emperor bestowed us with a relic said to carry the goddess’s grace. Though to me, it’s just an old pair of spectacles.”
As I thought, the Nettleton family’s ties to Morasinthia ran deep.
That was also the third reason I had come to Susan today.
For a researcher of medicine, it seemed natural to revere the Goddess of Healing.
And yet, there was something strange about scholars being so enraptured by religion.
Susan herself clearly had no interest in faith.
The first relic was in the chapel of the Marquisate. The second might also be hidden here. Douglas might even know something.
I recalled the original story I had long forgotten.
Claudia wept bitter tears as she clutched Susan’s corpse.
Douglas prayed day and night in the chapel, as though refusing to admit that even the goddess herself could not bring Susan back.
When his prayers finally ceased, flames erupted in the chapel.
The sacred scriptures and relics slumbering within the Marquis’s estate were reduced to a handful of ashes.
The exact wording was different, but that was surely the gist.
This estate surely held more secrets of Morasinthia beyond just the first relic.
Should I ask Douglas? But I must keep my distance… I can’t risk giving him an opening.
Just then, Susan tapped me lightly on the shoulder.
“I found the recipe you were looking for in this book.”
“Oh—the tonic for His Highness the Crown Prince?”
I had asked Susan to prepare a child’s nutritional supplement.
I thought it might help Franz, who was smaller than his peers.
In her invitation, Susan had written that she had developed just the recipe I wanted.
“Herbs may actually be better than medicinal roots for stamina and growth.”
“Herbs?”
“I found an old record of Grandfather’s, and even tracked down a rare herb shop. They’re still in business today.”
“Thank you so much! Susan, you’re the best!”
I wrapped my arms around Susan’s neck.
Startled yet pleased by my enthusiasm, Susan smiled brightly.
I might be able to find him—the farmer Boritz, Claudia’s ally! I had no idea where to begin, but now I see a light. The original story never even gave a precise location.
I planned to recruit Claudia’s allies one by one.
My own abilities weren’t enough.
I had to use every scrap of memory I had as a devoted reader.
And Boritz would play a great role in the future.
He was a top-priority talent I had to secure, and now, thanks to Franz and Susan, I might have found him.
Perhaps fate was showing me a sliver of mercy.
“Where is this herb shop? In the provinces?”
“It’s in the capital, but…”
“Then I must go right away. It’s for His Highness—we can’t afford delay!”
Being both Franz’s tutor and caretaker always provided the perfect excuse.
But truthfully, my heart was already set elsewhere.
The thought of meeting Boritz made it race.
If I could steal Claudia’s strength and build my own faction, I could survive without Nikolai.
Good riddance, damn Casanova!
“It’s near the slums, though. It might be dangerous to go alone.”
Susan looked worried.
“His Majesty assigned me a bodyguard.”
(Though I planned to ditch him.)
Susan hesitated, then revealed her true intent.
“Why not go with my brother instead?”
“Lord Douglas should be in the palace with His Highness, shouldn’t he?”
“He’ll be back soon. He knows the city streets well.”
“But—”
“Elisabeth. You deliberately came on a literature-class day to avoid running into my brother, didn’t you?”
“You really see right through me, Susan.”
I gave her an awkward smile.
I didn’t want to hurt the girl who cared so deeply for me.
So I spoke firmly again.
“Susan. I’m grateful for your concern, but I have no intention of reconciling with Lord Douglas.”
“My brother has changed.”
“I know.”
“He works out regularly now, and he earns plenty of money. It may sound trivial to you, but…”
“It’s not trivial at all. I’m genuinely glad he’s improving, and I sincerely congratulate him.”
“Then… you still won’t?”
“I’m sorry, Susan.”
“You know my brother’s a good man. That he still loves you.”
“He’s far too good for me.”
But it can’t be.
There was no need to say the rest aloud.
Tears welled in Susan’s large, deer-like eyes.
It pained me to be unable to respond to such stubborn yet pure devotion.
In the original story, Douglas never gave up on Elisabeth, not even until the revolution. He never believed her misdeeds either. This time… will Douglas come to hate me as in the story? Will he resent the man he once was who loved me?
I thought of Douglas and Susan beneath the guillotine in my dreams.
The thought that the deer siblings who adored me might come to despise me made my chest ache.
But affection and love were luxuries I couldn’t afford.
What I needed most was a way to survive.
Nikolai was “strolling” through the gardens.
In truth, he was making his way toward the Crown Prince’s palace.
He intended to “accidentally” run into Franz.
The reason was simple.
Franz carried Elisabeth’s scent.
What a wretch I’ve become. Using my only kin for something like this.
Shame and self-loathing weighed down his head.
And yet, he did not turn back.
It had already been eight and a half days since he had last seen Elisabeth.
He had even driven her out of his office.
She would never know—
That during his conversation with Kares, she had been leaning against the door all along.
That he had been frozen in place, paralyzed by the bitterly sweet fragrance seeping through the crack.
That he had gripped and released the doorknob countless times, recalling the feel of her lips.
That he had wanted to fling the wretched door open.
To gaze into her luscious black eyes.
To do far more indecent things.
He bit his lip until it bled, suppressing his savage desire.
Even his own endurance, holding firm in such a moment, felt like a curse.
I can’t meet Elisabeth yet. The death-flower seeds clinging to me might infect her.
A low chuckle rumbled in his mind—the wolf had read his thoughts.
“Poor Niki. Wasting precious time deceiving yourself again.”
Nikolai forced himself to remain calm, though shock still lingered.
Normally, the wolf should have lain dormant beneath his unconscious until it smelled death-flower.
Why is it surfacing so often? Has it slipped beyond my control?
He knew why.
The wolf was a parasite on his desires and senses.
Nikolai held it back by sheer willpower, but the slightest lapse and it would thrust its head up, trying to seize his body.
The more his senses awakened, the freer the wolf became.
It interfered more and more with his life.
The more Nikolai lost himself to desire, the louder the wolf’s voice grew.
It was a bitter, terrifying truth of his own making.
“You only quarantined the women carrying death-flower seeds. Why keep Elisabeth away?”
“Because only young women are infected, and we still don’t know why.”
“The seeds can’t sprout when we’re together. That’s why you keep those women in the palace.”
“There’s no guarantee it will always be so. Until the ninth day of quarantine, when the stench fades, we can’t be careless.”
“Elisabeth is different. She even repels the stench. So why fear for her?”
“Because she is my only hope. I cannot endanger her.”
“Didn’t you say you’d use her as a diffuser? As kindling to flush out the rats?”
“My plan hasn’t changed.”
“You sound like a man who treasures her too much.”
“…”
“Listen, Niki. You’ll never win her heart that way.”
“Stay out of this, arrogant wolf.”
“Won’t you regret it? I’m offering to teach you a thing or two.”
“Don’t spout nonsense.”
“I’m the real Casanova, not you, little greenhorn. Ha!”
Not all the harem women had fallen for Nikolai’s looks and power.
Some already had lovers or husbands.
Some, like Elisabeth, had refused to become empress.
Each time, it had been the wolf who stepped forward.
Only after the wolf worked its own charms did the women follow him into the palace.
Nikolai had never cared to watch how.
Even without sharing their beds, just knowing the wolf had taken the reins and drawn women to him against Nikolai’s own will was humiliating enough.
“Do as I say, and I’ll make Elisabeth yours.”
“Have you forgotten how you terrified her?”
“She was the one who touched first. Even you would’ve lost it.”
“Get lost, you cunning beast!”
“You want to be close to her as much as I do. Isn’t this the first time we’ve agreed?”
“…”
“Don’t beg for scraps—leave it to me. I’ll succeed without fail.”
Nikolai’s fist clenched, veins bulging blue across his hand.
Impulse hammered against his pride.
Desire gnawed at his reason.
What would happen if he yielded—if he accepted the wolf, just this once?
At that moment, he heard footsteps behind him.
