The Fake Madam Disappeared
Vol. 1 - Ch. 73

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Chapter 73 

Grace couldn’t believe her ears. But there wasn’t the slightest change in Elizabeth’s expression. It was only then that Grace realized she had heard correctly.

“Your Highness, please calm down. You’re too worked up right now.”

She tried to dissuade Elizabeth, fearing she might regret such an impulsive decision. But the only thing that changed was the hardening of Elizabeth’s gaze.

“…I see. You’re no different.”

Muttering under her breath, Elizabeth’s eyes twisted as if on the verge of tears, then, without warning, she struck Grace across the face.

Smack! The pain seared across Grace’s cheek like a burn, and the blow sent her crashing to the floor. Clutching her stinging cheek, she stared up at Elizabeth in a daze.

“Y-Your Highness…?”

Elizabeth had never once laid a hand on her like this. Grace was utterly stunned.

“The Chancellor was right. Grace, where did all that loyalty you claimed to have for me go?”

Elizabeth gently caressed the cheek she had just slapped.

“Didn’t I tell you? The price of betrayal is death.”

At Elizabeth’s command, two knights entered the room. Snapping out of her shock, Grace frantically spoke.

“Your Highness! Please, don’t believe the Chancellor! He seduced me first! He said he’d marry me next year if I provided him with information!”

She grabbed at the hem of Elizabeth’s dress in desperation, but the princess’s gaze was icy cold.

“Your Highness!”

Grace was dragged away, now in the same miserable position as those she had once pitied.

Once the door shut and Grace’s anguished screams faded into silence, Elizabeth collapsed onto the sofa.

“You can come out now.”

At her words, someone emerged from behind the curtains. It was Yllin, her face pale with shock at how easily Elizabeth had cast aside someone who had served her for years.

“You saw, didn’t you? Still want to be my handmaiden?”

It was a final warning. Yllin exhaled slowly and turned her thoughts quickly. Becoming the princess’s closest aide meant becoming a pawn to be discarded at any moment.

‘But still…’

No matter how hellish it might be, it couldn’t be worse than her current life: an older brother who saw her only as something to sell, a powerless father, and a mother blinded by luxuries they couldn’t afford. Yllin desperately wanted to escape it all.

“…I’ll do it.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly.

“Your first task is this… Yes. Bring me that woman Daphne’s head.”

* * *

“A Saintess…?”

The Emperor mumbled, dazed.

“Yes, Your Majesty. She is the Saintess.”

“…Ha.”

He let out a hollow laugh, then suddenly exploded in anger.

“Are you mocking me?! Do you take me for a fool?!”

The Emperor shot to his feet, his face flushed with fury.

“A Saintess? Don’t spout nonsense! Saintesss don’t appear anymore!”

“Your Majesty.”

A soft voice gently interrupted.

“Linda?”

With her sweet scent and soothing tone, the Emperor instinctively leaned forward like a dog hearing its master’s voice.

Marinda appeared out of nowhere and casually perched herself on his lap.

“Ahh, Linda…”

He buried his face in her chest, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Her scent dulled his senses like a narcotic. Once she felt his anger had subsided, Marinda spoke again.

“Your Majesty, do you remember? The benefactor who saved my life and brought me to your side?”

“Yes, yes, of course I remember.”

“That person… is the Saintess.”

“…What?”

The Emperor lifted his head from her embrace.

“I truly had no idea. But the Chancellor told me. I was just as surprised, Your Majesty.”

Marinda affectionately stroked his hair as she cooed sweetly.

The Emperor, visibly softened by his beloved’s words, looked toward Sergei and the Saintess with dazed eyes.

“She truly is… the Saintess?”

“She is, Your Majesty.”

Despite her words, his expression still showed doubt. But then, the Saintess, who had remained silent all this time, leaned toward Sergei and whispered something.

Just as the Emperor narrowed his eyes at the pair, Sergei spoke up.

“The Saintess has a gift for Your Majesty.”

“A gift?”

The Emperor’s eyes lit up. He loved gifts and riches.

“What is it?”

The Saintess slowly stepped forward. With a slight gesture, Marinda stepped away from the Emperor’s lap. At that moment of confusion, a brilliant white light burst from the Saintess’s hands.

Flash!

The Emperor flinched and shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them—

Clink. Clatter. The sound of a crown falling echoed through the room.

Despite his efforts to conceal it with divine energy, his true hair color was a faded brown, far from the golden blond he so desired.

“Wh-What is this…?”

As the crown tumbled to the floor, a lock of bright, golden hair fell across his forehead.

“This is my humble gift to you.”

Her voice was soft and clear, but the Emperor was too stunned to reply. He simply grabbed a handful of his golden hair and stared.

“It’s permanent. There’s no need to worry about it fading.”

“Heh… Hahaha…”

Still gripping his hair, the Emperor broke into laughter, then sprang to his feet.

“I failed to recognize my Saintess!”

Gone was any sign of wariness.

“How long has it been since a Saintess has graced us?! I shall hold a grand celebration in her honor!”

“I’m grateful, Your Majesty, but a simple show of goodwill is enough. I believe it more fitting to celebrate the glory Your Majesty is about to bring to the empire.”

At her words, the Emperor laughed again, more delighted than ever. Stroking his now golden hair with satisfaction, he left to resume court.

* * *

As Sergei walked through the palace corridors with the Saintess, one of his subordinates approached.

Everything had gone as planned. The princess had discarded her loyal servant without a second thought. But then…

“The Duke has disappeared?”

Sergei couldn’t help but blurt out the words. He glanced at the Saintess, then stepped aside with his subordinate.

“Explain.”

“There’s no doubt. Duke Winter is missing. We don’t know where he’s gone, but his estate is locked up tight. All the servants, including our informants, have been dismissed.”

The unexpected turn caused Sergei to frown. But with the Saintess present, he had no choice but to dismiss his aide.

“Is something wrong?”

“Haha, of course not.”

“So… Duke Winter has finally left.”

At her words, Sergei froze.

“…What do you know?”

Her tone made it seem as if she had expected Edmund to leave all along, had even waited for it.

“Who knows?”

The Saintess simply smiled and walked ahead.

As he watched her, realization finally dawned on Sergei. The Saintess’s true target had never been Daphne.

Daphne was merely the bait.

Her goal… was Edmund.

* * *

Daphne gasped for air, her breath ragged. She looked up instinctively. The black forest was just as dark as ever despite the morning light, and thick fog still hung heavy in the air.

She stopped and surveyed her surroundings. Nothing had changed from yesterday.

Another failure.

She still couldn’t find the temple.

After receiving Sergei’s letter promising a way to save Damian, she had immediately set a plan in motion.

Edmund’s imprisonment hadn’t been part of it, so she had faked her death. A small act of revenge.

[“Did you ever love me? Even for a moment?”]

That question had been a tiny indulgence. But that was all behind her now. Daphne shook off the daze and turned back the way she came.

Throwing herself into the river had been reckless, perhaps even suicidal. But she had survived. When she regained consciousness, the first thing she saw was a shred of Damian’s clothing tied to a nearby tree.

As if possessed, she had followed it and stumbled upon a familiar cave. The very one she and Damian had once shared.

It was as if fate had led her back.

Since then, Daphne had searched every day for the temple Sergei described. But she always ended up right where she started. Back at the cave, she sighed and splashed water on her face. Her anxiety grew with each passing day.

‘No. I’ll be okay. I still have hope.’

She clung to a single reason.

The only reason she’d survived Sergei’s horrifying experiments was her body’s unnatural healing ability. No wound ever lasted more than a week. No one knew. Or rather, no one cared enough to notice.

Worried about Damian’s condition worsening, she had tested a theory one night, cutting her fingertip and letting a drop of blood fall into his mouth.

The results had been astounding. His breathing began to stabilize. That was when she realized that her healing powers could be transferred through her blood.

Before she left, she entrusted a large amount of blood to Baroness Nouvelle. But extracting so much blood had left her weak. Combined with the stress and physical exertion, she now found herself dizzy with pain. A sharp headache throbbed behind her eyes, and the wound on her thigh flared hot again.

‘What’s happening…’

Her body burned as she collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. She crawled toward the cold embers of the fire, knowing she had to rekindle it before wild beasts came in the night. But her limbs trembled violently, refusing to cooperate.

‘No… I can’t…’

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stay conscious. But her vision dimmed, and everything went black.

T/N: I just knew Daphne is strong, go gurl, you got it! 💪