Chapter 69 …
I Pay My Respects to the Sun
“If I were truly someone without the slightest bit of pretense, I would never have been able to do business. After all, business at its core is about drawing people in and making a profit.”
Even with the color drained from her face, Bella spoke without the slightest falter. She didn’t realize how much more this composure piqued the King’s interest.
With his eyes narrowed into a sly smile, the King tilted his head in a manner that seemed oh-so natural.
“I know your name is Bella. But are you truly the daughter of Baron Oshik?”
“……”
It was the same tactic he had used on Ridel. Bringing it up deliberately, here, in front of an audience.
A cowardly, base attempt to drag Bella’s humiliating family history out of her own mouth.
Bella stared straight into the King’s eyes, which gleamed pitch-black and oily. That was the kind of light only seen in vulgar men who took joy in trampling and breaking others.
“Hm? Why no answer?”
“My apologies.”
“Strange. From what I know, you’re the daughter of a seamstress. And yet, when I just asked if you were ‘Bella Oshik,’ you said yes, didn’t you?”
“I had no intention of concealing my status. But since it involves an unpleasant family matter, I feared I might tell Your Majesty something unworthy of your ears. That is why I answered as I did.”
Bella lowered her head in courtesy, biting her lip in secret.
How vexing. The King had an instinct for sniffing out weaknesses. And though Bella had few, he had instantly found one of her rare emotional vulnerabilities—her family—and pressed right on it. Despicable.
“Family matters, is it? Well, with my generous heart, I’ll hear you out. Explain.”
Trapped. She had never expected to have to lay out such sordid past events here.
Bella gripped the handle of the case she had prepared with such ambition today, filled with products she meant to promote at all costs. Her thin hand clenched so tight the veins bulged.
“……My father, Baron Oshik, squandered our fortune through gambling. He sold my name and status to the daughter of a seamstress, taking her money for himself. After that, I left home and lived by working as a maid.”
“Your father, a gambler? What a harsh childhood you must have had. Truly pitiful.”
Feigning sympathy, the King once again pulled her close, patting her shoulder.
In that moment, something surged up from within Bella, and she couldn’t stop herself from saying it:
“……I am the child of Baron Oshik.”
“Not on record, you aren’t.”
“……”
How dare you? Who are you to mock my father and my past?
And more than anything—wasn’t it Count Treshi who ran the gambling den that had dragged her father into ruin?
Chei’s curse. Her father’s dying words. Count Treshi’s gambling hall. Her father’s downfall. The deaths of Count Treshi and Count Karl. The curse.
Every incident tied together into one circle of fate.
And at its center—
“Bella Oshik. Have you never thought of bestowing a Count’s title upon your departed father?”
—stood this man.
The pinnacle of the nation. The one who claimed divine authority.
The King.
Bella’s gaze changed in an instant.
Her expression was like someone hiding a finely-honed blade deep in the shadows of their heart. Like a lion crouching low, eyes fixed on prey, ready to pounce.
“How could I dare covet power? I am nothing but a humble merchant.”
Bella answered with a bright smile, her eyes gleaming like gemstones. It was the face of someone who, lost and wandering, had just discovered a shortcut.
The King’s brow twitched. He found it irritating—and enticing—that Bella did not cower before him. Especially those defiant eyes; they reminded him of someone. An infuriating, troublesome woman.
“By the way, before coming here I prepared something especially for Your Majesty. A gift.”
“A gift?”
“A perfume crafted only once, for Your Majesty alone. May I dare present it to you…?”
The King cast a knowing glance toward the case Bella held.
Like a person pulling out a surprise present, Bella opened the case with eager delight and handed him a small, gold-embellished box, no bigger than a palm.
“Perfume, is it? I’d rather receive something like an embroidered handkerchief.”
“…I do not embroider.”
Seeing Bella’s expression dim, the King puffed up like a street bully savoring victory in a petty quarrel, and took the box.
“I jest. Come now, don’t sulk. I cannot stand such faces on women. Let’s see—hm, even the bottle is unusual.”
When he drew out the perfume, even the spectators who had been secretly eavesdropping couldn’t suppress their gasps of admiration.
“I sought to capture the Sun.”
Just as Bella said, the bottle gleamed with golden hues, inlaid with orange and red jewels so that the vessel itself looked like a miniature sun. Radiant, dazzling.
Spritzing a bit onto his clothes, the King’s face broke into a smile of satisfaction.
The scent alone conjured up the thrill of standing atop the palace’s highest point, gazing down at the people prostrate at his feet.
After savoring the fragrance, he lowered his head and looked at Bella.
“The Sun. You still see me as the Sun?”
Surely a question comparing himself with the former king, under whom royal power had been absolute. Compared to those days, his own reign was beginning to waver.
Bella’s smile deepened.
At last, he seemed human to her. A man still trapped in the shadow of his dead father, consumed by the need for recognition and comparison.
Now she understood what truly drove the King.
“You are the Sun, indeed. Like the blazing sun beating down upon the wide desert.”
The King, pleased, laughed heartily and raised the perfume high before all, showering Bella with praise.
But he would die never knowing what Bella really meant.
For the desert sun kills. Her words were, in truth, an insult.
That in this era, the throne was nothing more than a seat that destroyed the lives of those walking the earth.
Inside a modest, homely cottage, a doctor was just leaving after a consultation. On the bed lay an ailing old woman, and beside her was Hayden.
“Mother, don’t worry. You’ll recover soon.”
“……”
He adjusted the room as the doctor had advised, then sat beside her, lightly holding her frail hand before letting go.
Her eyes clouded with blindness, the old woman stared silently in his direction.
“Well then, I have important business to attend to. Please rest well.”
Hayden rose to leave.
He had sold jewels to pay the doctor, and the man had given hopeful news: with proper care, she could live several more years. That was enough.
But just as he turned away, his mother’s frail, metallic-tinged voice halted him.
“Who are you—the one who has taken over my son’s body?”
So she already knew.
Once, she had been an astrologer, and because of it, she had endured whispers and persecution. Hayden’s soul had told Chei of this long ago.
“Hayden is safe. I have merely borrowed his body for a time.”
Chei replied not in Hayden’s voice, but in his own refined, courteous tone.
The woman nodded, unsurprised.
“A terrible curse lies upon you. Deep, dark, and full of malice. Someone bears a great hatred and jealousy toward you.”
“Do you know who?”
So few ever spoke this much about his curse. Chei stepped closer, tense with anticipation.
“The one who cursed you has died. Yet the vessel of the curse remains. Red… so very red…”
“Do you know how to break it?”
For Chei, nothing mattered more than breaking the curse and gaining freedom—whether through obliteration or new life.
But the woman shook her head. She did not know how to undo it.
“I thought as much.”
Chei gave a hollow laugh. He wasn’t even disappointed anymore. There had never been hope—until Bella. As long as she existed, he needed no other.
Just as he was about to turn away, the woman raised her trembling hand.
“…Long ago, I once saw a curse much like yours. Red, writhing, festering for ages, steeped in foulness.”
“And what became of the one afflicted?”
“There was no release. In the end, they died, coughing up blood. But we did learn who had cast that loathsome curse.”
Lifting her head, the woman looked out the window, pointing. Chei followed her gaze.
Outside, the red sun was sinking. Drenching the world in crimson light, as though it would devour the earth.
The very Sun that he had once served.
