Episode 15
“Tell me more, nanny.”
“Oh, I really shouldn’t be saying this… If the Count finds out, there’ll be hell to pay!”
“And I can cause hell too, you know? You know I can’t stand not knowing something. Just tell me, now.”
At Isabel’s urging, the nanny finally opened her mouth with a reluctant expression.
“They say that a demonic curse has been passed down through the emperor’s bloodline. While it grants mysterious powers, it also brings misfortune to those around the emperor.”
“The emperor? But the Grand Duke and his son aren’t emperors. Doesn’t that mean the curse should be gone?”
“It’s not that simple!”
When Isabel scoffed dismissively, the nanny raised her voice in frustration.
“The day the marriage proposal arrived from the Chester County was the same day the young master of Valencia was born… and the Grand Duchess passed away.”
“Isn’t that just a coincidence or accident?”
The nanny slowly shook her head in response to Isabel’s words.
“I don’t think so. She wasn’t a frail woman. And yet, the Grand Duchess died on the very day the young master was born.”
“…His birthday? No way!”
“It’s the demonic curse. Theodore Valencia has imperial blood too. So please, don’t say things like wanting to marry the young lord again.”
Despite the nanny’s warning, Isabel’s face only brightened.
“So… Father didn’t let me marry into the Grand Duke’s house because he was afraid I’d die from the demonic curse? Is that it?”
“Yes, that’s right. You always catch on so quickly!”
As the nanny clapped in admiration, Isabel puffed up proudly and giggled.
“That foolish Leiana! She’s walking straight to her death and doesn’t even know it!”
The nanny sighed in relief watching Isabel hopping around in excitement.
While the nanny was feeling relieved, Isabel was delighted with a different thought.
‘No wonder things didn’t make sense before! There was such a secret behind it!’
Of course it was the demon’s doing. That’s why they had to find a fiancée for the newborn right after the funeral of the wife.
It had been a gloomy day, in the dead of night. The secretive nature of the whole thing couldn’t have been for any good reason.
‘So Father really was looking out for me!’
That one realization lifted Isabel’s mood sky-high.
All the insults and humiliation she’d suffered at the tea party seemed to melt away.
“So basically, Leiana’s going to die soon, right? And Father sent her instead of me because he didn’t want me to die. See? Father’s totally on my side. And I didn’t even realize it… So, when is she going to die?”
“Probably soon, I imagine.”
Hearing that, Isabel burst out into delighted laughter.
‘I wonder how that beggar would feel if she found out the truth.’
Though Isabel had never directly seen her father give the order, to her, it was clear: throwing a young girl alone into a household full of grown knights was no different from sentencing her to death.
Leiana could never be a normal noble lady.
She had been raised differently from the start. She was born lacking. There were too many reasons why no one would ever accept Leiana as a noblewoman.
And she couldn’t be a nobleman either. That was biologically impossible.
Not a commoner, not a noble, not a man, not a woman—she belonged nowhere. A pathetic and lowly being.
To Isabel, Leiana was exactly that.
Which is why she could never become family.
Accepting something so lowly would only cause her own body to rot away.
‘It was really fun, though. It’d be a bit disappointing if she died.’
Leiana’s income—that had always been Isabel’s to spend.
She bought expensive necklaces and lavish dresses with that money, all things she could never afford with just her allowance.
“So that ends too. It was a nice little bonus while it lasted.”
“Hey, nanny. If she dies after getting married, we don’t just get the dowry back, right?”
“That depends on the cause of death. But sometimes, compensation money is returned to the family as well…”
While explaining facts accurately to the young lady, the nanny suddenly had a chilling realization.
“Right?”
No need to feel sad after all.
The winnings from tournaments or the salaries of knights were peanuts compared to the compensation money the Grand Duchy of Valencia would pay out.
Isabel began humming to herself.
The Grand Duke of Valencia summoned him to his office.
A man with half his face scorched, known by no name—simply referred to as “he.”
The faint lantern glow cast flickering shadows across Crociad’s tense face.
The man silently stepped in front of Crociad. He was the only one who could hear the demon’s voice, a priest who assisted the imperial family’s rites.
“How many days has it been since Theodore collapsed? Why hasn’t he woken up?”
The man raised his head, revealing eerie eyes.
“I. Told. You. Already. The demon. Can no. Longer. Be contained.”
“So you’re saying Theodore can’t wake up because of the demon?”
Crociad’s lip curled in a grim sneer.
“The demon’s. Power. Keeps. Growing…”
Suddenly, Crociad lost his temper and seized the man by the throat.
His voice ground through clenched teeth as his grip tightened.
“What part of your advice did I not follow? I did everything you said, and now my son’s been teetering on death’s edge for days!”
It was at the man’s suggestion that he agreed to the demon’s will and betrothed a newborn to his son.
It was also he who had orchestrated everything, knowing full well Leiana might be struck down by the demon’s curse.
“Did you think I kept you here to hear this kind of nonsense?”
As he released the grip, the man crumpled to the floor, clutching his neck and coughing violently.
“Wake him up by whatever means necessary. If Theodore doesn’t rise, you won’t either.”
“There’s. Only. One. Thing. I can say.”
The man’s eyes glinted unnaturally. Crociad always found that obsessive gleam in his gaze repulsive.
Even knowing Crociad might strike again, the man didn’t seem inclined to silence himself.
“The demon. Grows. Stronger.”
As if fulfilling some sacred duty.
Crociad felt an overwhelming headache from the eerie muttering.
“Continuously. Stronger.”
As though reading Crociad’s thoughts, the man whispered,
“Theodore. Cannot. Contain. The demon.”
Whenever he faced this man, Crociad was struck by an inexplicable feeling—as though facing something inhuman.
It wasn’t just the man’s strange appearance. Even his presence triggered a deep instinctual rejection.
“So what do you want me to do? Just sit here and wait while my son lies unconscious?”
“…A sacrifice for the demon.”
Crociad’s red eyes visibly trembled at those quiet words.
“The sacrifice will. Prevent. The disaster.”
Leiana Chester. The girl who became Theodore’s betrothed to serve as the demon’s offering.
Crociad’s clenched fists began to tremble.
“You must. Bring the sacrifice. Into the mansion. If not…”
The man’s lips curved into a mad grin.
“The demon. Will destroy. The world.”
“So the sacrifice will stop the demon… but what happens to the sacrifice afterward?”
The man’s glacial eyes faintly smiled.
“She dies.”
He delivered the cruel verdict as if it were only natural.
“That is. What a sacrifice. Is.”
Their eyes met—Crociad and the man.
The man’s long, narrow eyes had a distinctly inhuman chill.
His son, the world, and Leiana Chester.
At first, Crociad hadn’t hesitated. It had seemed like an easy decision.
Then came the engagement ceremony, where he met the girl who would be the sacrifice.
Leiana’s innocent eyes as she looked at his son had left a deep impression.
She was just a child—pure and sincere, like Theodore.
When told that Theodore might die, she hadn’t hesitated for a second, begging to do anything she could to help.
Crociad could no longer bear the thought of letting her die.
Then, loud and heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor.
A frantic knock followed, its clumsiness causing Crociad to frown.
“My Lord! Urgent news!”
Crociad’s expression shifted immediately—there were few reasons a trusted butler would come barging in like this.
As he flung the door open, the breathless and alarmed butler gasped out:
“Young Master Theodore has disappeared!”
