Chapter 5
The marquis was always meticulous, almost obsessively so, in how he handled affairs—neat and without excess. When it came to his duties, he allowed no room for doubt. Yet, the one time he ever left anything open to speculation was in the matter concerning the marchioness and me. Rather than resolutely handling it, he chose resolute silence.
Of course, this matter was never officially addressed. But it was undoubtedly the center of countless rumors. Knowing that the family would become the subject of scandal, why did he remain silent?
Even if the marquis had revealed the truth, it wouldn’t have completely erased the rumors that had already spread. But there had certainly been room to minimize them. I found myself wondering—what was he thinking when he chose to stay silent?
“Am I truly the legitimate daughter of the Elianth Marquisate?”
“That question isn’t even worth answering.”
His eyes met mine, unwavering and firm. The deep, blue gaze that held me showed no trace of hesitation. And from that look, I finally understood something I hadn’t been able to grasp until now.
“Not worth answering.”
He hadn’t been silent at all. In matters such as this, the marquis had only ever spoken the truth. He had never once doubted that I was his daughter. That was why he saw no need to answer with either affirmation or denial.
Known as the “man with a heart of ice,” he was someone who almost never expressed emotions. It made you wonder if he was even human. He rarely, if ever, showed any outward sign of feeling, and just as rare was his speech. As far back as I could remember, this was the most we had ever spoken in our entire lives.
People—including myself—had misunderstood him and interpreted his actions however they pleased. But he had merely chosen not to respond to nonsense created by others. The truth behind all the turmoil that had plagued me… it had all been a delusion born of my own inferiority complex.
“If you’re just going to spout nonsense, leave.”
Without realizing it, a smile crept across my face. In this moment, I was sure—without a doubt—I was his daughter.
His eyebrows twitched slightly. I must have looked odd, smiling at such a time. For the first time, I saw various expressions cross his face. Until now, I hadn’t known he was capable of such emotion. Feeling somewhat amused, I said,
“You asked me if I wanted to be Empress, didn’t you? Among the unmarried women of the Empire, how many do you think don’t dream of becoming Empress?”
To become Empress is to reach the highest position a woman can aspire to. It’s a dream every girl has at least once—to meet a prince on a white horse, fall in passionate love, and have a happy marriage. Just like that, most noble ladies dreamed of becoming Empress.
Like those other noble ladies, Bionne too had dreamed of sweet happiness. She hoped to proudly stand at his side as Empress. She believed that if she could just become Empress, she’d be able to live happily ever after with him like a princess in a fairytale.
It was a dream that sent shivers down her spine just imagining it.
Her misfortune began when she failed to keep that dream as just a dream. Her desire for him was too strong to contain. And the greater tragedy? She had the status and power to turn that dream into reality.
Bionne Lossa Elianth had longed to be Empress—and she became one. But reality isn’t a fairytale. She had to learn that truth the hard way—through death.
I carry the memories of Bionne as Empress. It was a position I had desperately wanted. But the ‘me’ who sat on that throne was never truly happy.
Now, with those memories, do I still want to be Empress? Do I want to follow the same path, live the same life?
What do I want now?
“So, you mean to say… you still want it?”
Yes, I had wanted to be Empress. But the position of Empress isn’t one you can take just because you want it. That seat is tangled in layers of interests, obligations, and politics. In other words, even if I didn’t want it, I couldn’t simply avoid it.
Despite the controversy, I had become Empress not just because I wanted it, but because the political interests of the Emperor and the nobility had aligned. And those interests were still very much in play.
“Did my will ever matter in the first place?”
“You…”
Bang!
As soon as he opened his mouth, the office door slammed open. It was an aggressive entrance, no less violent than when I had kicked in the marchioness’s door. The marquis frowned in displeasure. I turned toward the door to see who dared barge in unannounced.
Just who in this house would have the guts to enter the marquis’s study without permission? A few suspects came to mind.
The first was the marchioness. Though knights stood guard outside, if the marchioness forced her way in, they couldn’t stop her. Not because they lacked strength, but because of status. Physically, well-trained knights far surpassed a delicate noblewoman. But the law forbade them from laying a hand on a lady of noble birth.
As mad as she might be, she was still the wife of a marquis and the lady of the house. If she barged in, there would be no stopping her. They couldn’t even lay a finger on her, much less draw their swords.
The second suspect… was me. After all, I had just done the exact same thing.
“But I’m already here, so that rules me out.”
That left no one else who could get away with storming into the marquis’s study.
So it had to be the marchioness.
Or so I thought—until I saw who was standing in the doorway.
He was completely disheveled, a stark contrast to his usual tidy appearance. That perpetually expressionless face—just like his master’s—was now twisted. His signature slicked-back hair, always neat and perfect, was now a mess.
The sight of the rigid, meticulous butler in such disarray shocked me.
The marquis seemed just as surprised. Instead of scolding him for entering without permission, he asked calmly,
“What is it?”
“S-s-sir… I apologize…”
His trembling voice pleaded for forgiveness. It looked as though speaking was physically painful for him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally managed to say,
“Th-the madam…”
At that moment, a long-forgotten memory stirred inside me. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him like this.
Back then, too, the butler had struggled to speak. His normally pristine clothes were wrinkled, his calm demeanor completely gone.
That day had begun just like this morning. I’d woken to find my nanny gone. I was told she had been urgently summoned to the marchioness’s chambers. I remember being furious—more than usual that day.
When a flustered maid tried to explain, I slapped her across the face without hesitation. Thinking back now, I realize that maid had been Mary.
She had probably done her best, but I couldn’t see it. Her nervous fumbling only made me angrier. Already short-tempered, I snapped quickly. I began throwing anything within reach, lashing out, even hitting her.
A mere maid like Mary had no power to stop me or escape. She could only endure it silently. The other maids, though eventually rushing in, didn’t dare intervene. They just hovered around us, wringing their hands in distress.
Normally, either the butler or the nanny would have stopped me. But that day, no one came. No one capable of stopping me ever appeared.
I didn’t stop until I’d exhausted my rage. I had scratched, kicked, grabbed her hair—anything I could do. Mary, who bore the brunt of my rage, lay there, utterly broken.
I stood there fuming, breath heavy, while she lay unconscious. The other maids, afraid to touch her, only watched.
And then, the butler came—rushing toward me with urgency I’d never seen from him. His uncharacteristic panic startled me enough to forget my anger for a moment.
Just like now, he had been a mess. With the same twisted expression, the same desperation. He took a deep breath before finally speaking.
I already knew what he was going to say.
“The madam… has passed away!”
It was like watching a play. I had become a bystander, watching the story of my own life unfold. It was my past as Bionne, the present I was living, and the future yet to come.
What!!!