The Fake Madam Disappeared
Vol. 1 - Ch. 75

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Edmund looked down at his hands. At some point, his sword, drawn from his hip, and his entire arm had been drenched in blood. The agonized screams of the beast, whose long arm had been severed, buzzed faintly in his ears, as though muffled by a thin veil.

Edmund moved. At first, he hacked mercilessly at the beast that had tried to flee after counterattacking him. He moved and moved again, until Daphne's blood was entirely buried under the beast’s.

Only after a long while did Edmund finally stop. Amidst the beast’s dismembered remains, he caught sight of what was once Daphne’s clothes, now so tattered and blood-soaked they were beyond recognition.

‘Daphne.’

His knees buckled beneath him.

Rainwater streamed down his cheeks. His breath grew ragged, and a chill seeped into his bones. Reaching out, Edmund seized a piece of the bloodied fabric in his trembling hand.

A faint groan escaped his lips.

Daphne was dead.

Back in the North, when Daphne had first disappeared, even upon finding a robe soaked in blood, Edmund had refused to believe she was truly gone. But now, things are different.

Edmund stared blankly at the piece of dress clutched in his hand. It was so thoroughly soaked in blood that the original color was long lost. All that remained was the stench of iron. Daphne’s scent had vanished completely.

If asked whether he was sad, Edmund wouldn’t know how to answer. If asked how he felt, he still wouldn't know.

He had been taught not to feel. Not simply to hide his emotions, but to have none at all.

Yet the moment he first met Daphne, he had felt an uncomfortable flutter in his chest, and her frustratingly reckless ways had annoyed him. He didn't understand why his chest now felt so unbearably heavy. Even when he opened his mouth, no words would come.

It was only then that Edmund realized that he wasn’t breathing.

He gasped for air, the cold, damp air rushing harshly into his lungs. Even that simple act felt foreign to him. And in that moment, Edmund understood.

"...Ah."

I love Daphne. I have loved her – cursedly, helplessly – from the very first moment.

A violent shudder ran through his entire body.

"Ha."

A hollow laugh slipped from his lips, but it quickly faded, and his mouth sank into a grim line.

He truly, truly… 

"...Edmund?"

A voice. So faint and delicate that it was almost drowned out by the rain. Edmund lifted his head and turned.

It was Daphne.

He rose and walked toward the cave’s entrance.

One step apart, Daphne stood inside the cave, while Edmund stood outside. Rain clung heavily to his lashes, forcing him to blink. He lifted his hand then stopped short, unable to touch her.

"...Is this a hallucination?"

Was a hallucination supposed to feel this vivid? Closing his eyes, Edmund murmured to himself.

* * *

Daphne panted heavily. She had barely dodged the beast’s sweeping hand by a hair’s breadth, but she soon lost her balance and fell. Pebbles scattered across the cave floor, making small sounds. The beast turned its head, ears pricking up warily.

Unable to make even a sound, Daphne pressed herself flat against the ground, scanning her surroundings desperately. Her eyes landed on her clothes, tossed aside to dry after being soaked by the rain. She couldn't wear them and had thrown a robe over herself instead.

Grasping at a plan, she threw the drenched garment onto a fallen log. The sound caught the beast’s attention instantly. It lunged at the log, chomping and thrashing until it snapped it in two. Daphne’s blood ran cold. Had she been even a second slower, that log could’ve been her.

The beast, satisfied, chewed at the splintered log, bits of blood-soaked fabric still caught in its teeth.

Only after the beast finally left the cave did Daphne dare to move. Her tense muscles ached as she slowly massaged the back of her neck and staggered to her feet, leaning against the wall for support.

Through the curtain of rain, a faint sound drifted in. Daphne, cautious, crept toward the cave’s entrance and froze.

Someone was there.

A man knelt amid the beast’s torn remains.

"...Edmund?"

The name slipped from her lips, as if she were possessed. She immediately regretted it, but it was too late. He had already turned to look at her.

Meeting a man capable of slaying such a creature with ease was no small matter. It should have alarmed her, but Daphne's body was too exhausted to run.

'It can't be Edmund. He should be preparing for his wedding by now.'

And yet, Edmund was here.

He rose abruptly and began walking toward her.

Daphne, dazed, watched as he approached. He reached out… then stopped, his hand hovering just short of touching her.

"...Is this a hallucination?"

He whispered it, then his eyes fluttered shut, and he collapsed.

Daphne instinctively caught him. Or more accurately, she braced herself so they wouldn't both fall as he slumped forward. Unable to bear his weight, she stumbled back until her spine hit the cave wall.

"Ugh."

She let out a strained whimper from the sharp pain shooting up her back. Clutching Edmund’s shirt tightly, she eased them both down to the ground.

With a soft thud, Edmund’s head came to rest on her shoulder. His body radiated heat, proof he was alive.

"...Ha."

As if to reassure her that this was no dream.

Daphne looked down at his pale face, rain-slicked and feverish. His body burned with heat, yet his lips were parched and cracked.

He was in bad shape. Outwardly, there were no obvious injuries, but when she hastily unbuttoned his shirt, she gasped.

Half of Edmund’s right shoulder had been consumed by a demonic infection. It looked old, and it was severe. Only someone of Edmund’s strength could have survived this long.

Panic seized her. She recalled the overgrowth of herbs outside the cave and hurried toward the entrance, but froze.

She didn't recognize a single plant.

Rushing back to Edmund, she found that even in those few seconds, his condition had worsened.

Daphne grabbed a sharp stone and slashed her own wrist. As blood welled up, she brought it to Edmund’s lips. But his mouth remained tightly shut, and the blood merely dripped down the side of his face.

She tried again and again, but it was no use. Grimacing, she hastily wrapped her wrist to stop the bleeding.

'How can I get him to open his mouth?'

She had to hurry. Biting her inner lip anxiously, she suddenly stilled.

"...This is just a treatment."

It was the only thing she could do. His life – and many others – depended on it.

Steeling herself, she bit down harder, filling her mouth with the metallic tang of blood. Then she leaned down and pressed her lips to Edmund’s.

At the touch, his lips parted instinctively.

Daphne flinched in surprise, but she quickly focused, transferring the blood into his mouth.

Even as she did, she kept glancing anxiously at his infected shoulder. She couldn’t turn her head for a better look, so she watched his complexion instead, searching for any sign of improvement.

'Is it working?'

She continued until her mouth went dry. As she finally tried to pull away to check his condition… 

"...Mmph!"

A large hand clamped around the back of her head.

In the next instant, Edmund was on top of her, pinning her down, consuming her desperately like a man dying of thirst.

Daphne’s body trembled under his weight.

"W-Wait, just a moment—"

She barely managed to twist her head, but Edmund seized her lips again without hesitation. Every ragged breath, every drop of saliva – he took it all.

All Daphne could do was cling helplessly to his shirt.

Time blurred.

At last, Edmund’s lips left hers, and she gasped for air, as if she had been running for her life.

Edmund, breathing heavily, leaned his forehead against her ear. His harsh breaths sent shivers down her spine.

Too weak to speak, Daphne feebly tried to push him away. But before she could even muster strength, Edmund caught her hand.

"Breathe through your nose," he whispered, lifting his head.

When Daphne met his eyes, she let out a soft gasp. Just as she feared, Edmund leaned in once again… and claimed her lips.

T/N: Edmund be like ‘I love you, can you feel it through my kiss?’ I certainly shivered a few times through the screen