Chapter 4
Dailan, who had been lounging as though he might slide off his seat at any moment, slowly rose under the countless eyes fixed upon him.
The absolute authority he had been born holding in both hands had raised him into someone who never bothered reading the room.
Whether attention gathered around him or not, he moved at his own leisurely pace as he approached Lirette.
Hmm…
Bending down slowly, Dailan crouched in front of her and stared into the vacant eyes that looked as though their soul had already slipped away.
Then his gaze widened, studying her youthful face for a long moment.
No matter how I look at it… killing this one feels like a waste.
……
A face like this isn’t common.
His pale blue-gray eyes tilted this way and that as if deep in thought.
Soon, Dailan spoke to the knight standing nearby with sword in hand, ready to strike the moment he commanded it.
Don’t kill this one.
“Your Highness?”
“But, Your Highness, she is the daughter of a treasonous criminal.”
“It may be wiser to eliminate her together with the rest—”
Concerned voices rose around them.
Dailan clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Immediately, silence returned.
Only then did satisfaction curl at the corners of his lips.
He looked down at Lirette, whose face was stained with tears.
I saved you.
……
So your life belongs to me now.
The madness hidden within his blue-gray eyes gleamed dangerously.
The deadline is…
……
Until I get bored of you.
The look in his eyes resembled the entrance to hell itself.
“…Hah!”
Recently, she had been dreaming often.
Dreams made of fragments from a past that served no purpose anymore.
Wiping sweat from her face, Lirette slowly sat up.
For days, her condition had fluctuated violently.
Sometimes she improved.
Sometimes she plunged right back into misery.
Some days, the fever became so severe she drifted through half-conscious delirium.
Other days, she could at least sit up and think clearly.
Judging by how sharp her vision felt today—
This was one of the better days.
“Do you require anything?”
At her restless movements, the butler spoke softly.
Lirette looked at him warily before answering in a rough voice.
“I’d like some water.”
At those few words, the butler moved with quiet efficiency.
Lirette’s gaze never left his retreating figure.
The master of this estate—
The owner of the name branded into her skin—
Was excessively meticulous.
The shackles around her ankles apparently weren’t enough.
He had even stationed this watchdog inside her room.
Having someone constantly observing her every movement was more suffocating than she had expected.
As she drank from the cup offered to her, Lirette glanced sideways at the butler standing nearby.
The monocle covering one eye made his gaze look sharp.
Almost like an imitation of his absent master’s eyes.
Every time she noticed it, discomfort twisted inside her.
To the point where the name carved into her back seemed to ache.
“If this residence does not suit your preferences, His Grace instructed me to arrange another.”
The butler suddenly spoke.
Apparently, he had interpreted her repeated glances that way.
“We also have larger rooms prepared.”
“No… this is enough.”
Lirette set down the glass.
Even gripping something required concentration with fingers that had become so stiff.
“More than that… I want to rest alone.”
“……”
“I’m not planning anything foolish.”
She moved her leg slightly.
Cold metal wrapped around her ankle.
The shackles remained firmly in place.
The chains.
The butler.
Layer upon layer of Valderion’s precautions wrapped around her like restraints.
She felt moments away from suffocating.
Even with nothing covering her nose or mouth.
The butler remained silent for a moment.
Then, perhaps deciding her words were reasonable, he bowed and left.
Hugging her knees to her chest, Lirette stared endlessly at the doorway after his presence disappeared.
Loneliness clouded her eyes as the open door slowly shut.
Your life belongs to me.
Dailan’s words echoed like tinnitus.
After her father’s rebellion, Lirette’s life had been completely destroyed.
Under Dailan’s rule—
She had lived in hell.
Dailan truly treated her like a toy.
Not a person.
Something disposable.
Something he could hurt whenever he wished.
For someone born into noble blood, he possessed an especially cruel and twisted temperament.
And the violence born from it was impossible to ignore.
Those years of suffering were beyond counting.
Under him, Lirette had broken apart again and again—
Only to heal enough to be broken once more.
Not sexually.
Just as she had told Valderion—
The Crown Prince regarded her as filthy livestock.
Even while sleeping with countless women, he never touched Lirette that way.
But because of that—
His cruelty had become physical instead.
In the end, her father had been right.
Through endless suffering beneath Dailan, Lirette had learned one thing clearly:
This man should never wear the imperial crown.
The thought of the Empire falling under someone like him was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
But realization alone meant nothing.
After losing all her family, she had become nothing more than someone wandering alone through wilderness.
The will to survive in such a barren world broke quickly.
From the moment she watched her family’s heads fall one after another—
That will had slowly faded.
And beneath Dailan’s vicious abuse—
It finally disappeared.
Do you want to die?
Even death had not been given to her freely.
After her suicide attempt failed—
After being caught—
She became someone forced to live.
Her arms and legs were tied to pillars.
Dailan made certain she could no longer perform even the most basic human actions alone.
He called it punishment.
Punishment for daring to die without permission.
Don’t do that, Lirette.
……
If you try to die, I’ll chase you into hell itself and drag you back.
What meaning did life hold when even death was no longer your own choice?
From that point onward—
Everything became gray.
And there was more.
When she locked herself inside the cramped storage-room-like bedroom, he broke the doorknob and deliberately rattled the door every night to frighten her.
When annoyed, he used soaked whips until her skin split open.
Trying to escape for any reason usually ended with shattered ankles.
Those things had become ordinary.
Slowly, her gaze lifted.
Toward the tapestry on the wall.
Two swords crossed diagonally over a shield.
Wrapped around it was the image of a great-antlered stag entwined with rose vines.
She remembered that crest.
The same banner had waved proudly on the night her family’s final moments were drowned in blood.
The Imperial Family.
And House Eustutia.
They were allies.
One body.
The sun and moon illuminating the Empire.
That was what people called them.
If she couldn’t remain in the Imperial Palace—
Then she had ended up here.
A dry laugh escaped her lips.
Valderion’s cold smile flickered through her mind.
Something burned inside her.
Glancing at the shackles, Lirette climbed down from the bed.
Chains scraped ominously across the carpet before stretching tight.
She couldn’t go farther.
But this distance was enough.
Soon, the tapestry stood before her.
She couldn’t run.
But rebellion?
That was still possible.
Without hesitation—
Lirette ripped the tapestry down and threw it onto the floor.
* * *
“And her meals?”
Valderion extinguished the cigar between his lips in the ashtray before speaking to the butler standing rigidly before him.
“She ate.”
“All of it?”
“Not entirely… but enough.”
“And her condition?”
The butler quietly shifted his eyes.
“The same as when she first arrived.”
“So rest changed nothing.”
Though he had expected it, Valderion still looked displeased that events were unfolding exactly as predicted.
Leaning against his desk, he rubbed the crease between his brows.
“Do I really have to touch her for this to improve?”
Despite resting in a warm room, eating proper meals, and receiving care—
Lirette’s condition had not improved.
The fever burning through her body had eased somewhat—perhaps because it was merely a symptom of Name manifestation.
But her stiff limbs remained unchanged.
Meaning food and environment were not the issue.
“Stiffness… and then paralysis, was it?”
Valderion reviewed the symptoms.
The core of a Name was contact.
Physical contact with the owner of the Name.
That was what kept the afflicted healthy.
Which was why people called it:
A disease cured by touch.
Without contact—
The afflicted withered.
First came fever and chills.
Then fingers and toes stiffened like wood.
Later, the body lost sensation piece by piece.
Eventually, nerves rotted from within and the skin itself began to decay.
From what he had observed—
The woman already seemed unable to use two fingers.
Soon the remaining three would likely follow.
And then paralysis would begin.
“Ha… seriously.”
Thinking of Lirette brought another image with it—
Those eyes glaring fiercely at him.
She was too thin.
Too fragile.
Like she might break if touched too hard.
She reminded him of a white peony blooming alone in a dry field.
Perhaps that was why he hadn’t noticed her immediately when she had collapsed in the snow.
She blended into whiteness too easily.
And yet—
Her eyes were different.
No matter how worn down they had become—
There was still strength in them.
Even while shrinking away from him physically—
She never once avoided his gaze.
People said eyes reflected the heart.
If so—
That stubbornness deserved praise.
“It’s already past lunch…”
He glanced at the time.
“Prepare dinner instead.”
“Pardon?”
“Arrange dinner for two at the annex.”
The butler immediately understood.
After bowing and leaving, Valderion turned toward the window.
Snow was falling again.
Harder this time.
Winter, which had seemed close to ending, appeared ready to begin anew.
Pale twilight had already begun settling across the afternoon sky.
