The Fake Madam Disappeared
Vol. 1 - Ch. 78

Chapter 78 

"Marquis Bled."

At the sudden appearance of Sergei, Edmund immediately shifted into a defensive stance.

"I’m here to help," Sergei said as he approached.

"Do you know why my sister came here?"

Edmund frowned at the abrupt question, and Sergei, as if expecting this reaction, continued smoothly.

"Of course, she wouldn’t have told you."

Narrowing his eyes, Sergei studied Edmund. He had suspected Daphne’s feelings toward Edmund and Damian, but the reality was even deeper than he had thought.

Following the Saintess’s plan, Daphne had acted accordingly, and though Sergei assumed the Temple would eventually give up, Daphne had succeeded in the end.

Sergei, who had no intention of revealing all this to Edmund, simply swallowed his words with a faint smile.

"My sister came here to save the Young Lord."

The words spilled easily from Sergei’s lips. Daphne’s eyes quivered slightly, unable to comprehend his unexpected actions.

Meanwhile, Edmund found it hard to believe Sergei's claim. And yet, Daphne’s trembling gaze seemed to speak of truth. Still, Edmund pressed on.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Would I ever harm my own nephew?"

Edmund said nothing, but his silence was answer enough. Sergei pointed toward the altar.

"On that altar lies the medicine that will save the Young Lord’s life."

It’s a trap.

Daphne's lips parted soundlessly. It was an obvious trap. Anyone could see it. Knowing Edmund surely wouldn’t fall for it, Daphne turned to him urgently.

Edmund, however, was simply staring at the altar.

‘Edmund…’

Daphne called to him silently. For some reason, she couldn't muster any strength, not even in her voice, and could only move her lips slightly. Yet somehow, Edmund turned to look at her.

"I'll be back soon."

Daphne shook her head furiously, knowing full well that altar was far from ordinary. But in reality, only a few strands of her hair trembled.

‘No…’

Unable to notice her desperate mouth movements, Edmund carefully set Daphne down, still keeping an eye on Sergei. Daphne tried to grip his hand, but her fingers barely twitched.

Meanwhile, Sergei, already standing near the altar, waved at Edmund.

"You’d best confirm it yourself, Your Excellency."

As Edmund drew closer to the altar, Daphne’s sense of dread only deepened. And then, just as Edmund stood before it, Sergei reached out.

Edmund instinctively leaned back, protecting his vulnerable upper body, but that wasn’t Sergei's aim. Grabbing Edmund’s hand, Sergei slammed it down onto the altar.

"What the—"

Realizing something was wrong, Edmund tried to pull back. Yet, as if stuck with glue, his palm clung stubbornly to the altar's surface, refusing to move.

"My part ends here," Sergei said, releasing Edmund's hand.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"From here on, it’s someone else’s responsibility," Sergei murmured cryptically before vanishing.

Edmund made sure Sergei wasn’t harming Daphne before once again trying to free his hand, but it was no use.

Suddenly, his strength began to drain away. His vision blurred. Frantically, he groped for his sword only to find his belt empty. It was only then that he realized: in his rush to find Daphne, he had left his sword back inside the cave.

A knight's sword was practically his second life, but Edmund hadn’t had the luxury to think twice.

Desperately searching for another way out, he relaxed his body for a moment, and something touched his lips. Startled, Edmund realized Daphne had somehow made her way to him and that she was kissing him.

A sharp, metallic taste seeped into his mouth. It was only after a delayed moment that Edmund realized: it was blood.

At the same time, the bond anchoring him to the altar broke. His strength, which had been slipping away, began to return. But then, Daphne’s weight collapsed against him.

"This is the price for saving me last time," she whispered faintly and then collapsed completely.

"Daphne…?"

Edmund called out, but she didn’t move.

The sound of his pounding heartbeat filled his ears. With a trembling hand, he reached under her nose.

There was no breath. No matter how long he waited.

* * *

"Young Lord!"

Hearing the news, Johann burst through the door in a flurry. 

Inside the room stood Damian. Not Damian lying pale and unconscious on the bed but Damian, standing on his own two feet, eyes wide open.

"Johann."

The sound of his name from Damian’s lips spurred Johann into motion.

"Thank heavens... Truly, thank heavens," Johann said, his voice trembling miserably.

Other than looking slightly thinner, a result of days without proper meals, Damian looked just as he always had, bringing immense relief to Johann.

"Where’s my father?" Damian asked.

Forcing back his emotions, Johann straightened his posture and replied gravely.

"There is much I must tell you, Young Lord."

He lowered his voice.

"Everything I’m about to say happened while you were asleep."

Johann then began recounting the events.

* * *

After hearing it all at once, Damian simply blinked blankly.

"...Father divorced Mother, tried to marry Carlitoss, and Mother disappeared?"

"Yes."

"And now you're the acting Duke because Father went to search for her?"

"Yes. But now that you've awakened, I will return all authority to you once your body has recovered."

Johann deliberately hid the fact that Daphne had attempted to take her own life. Even without that detail, Damian already looked overwhelmed.

It felt as though he'd merely taken a short nap, yet the world had changed entirely.

"And currently, there’s a guest waiting for you."

"A guest?"

"Yes. They're extremely difficult to meet. This might be our only chance."

If Johann was speaking with such seriousness, the guest had to be someone extraordinary.

"I’ll meet them," Damian said.

Johann led him to another room.

"It’s been a while, Young Lord."

Damian blinked, then glanced at Johann who remained expressionless. From this, Damian realized who the guest must be: the Crown Prince.

Slowly, he approached.

"Your Highness... To what do I owe the honor?"

Though he didn’t know the full situation, Damian was aware that the relationship between the Imperial Family and House Winter was icy at best. That the Crown Prince had come alone, without a single attendant, struck him as highly unusual.

"How are you feeling?" 

"I’m... fine," Damian answered, though his gaze remained wary.

"Let’s get straight to the point. I’m on your side."

At the sudden statement, Damian furrowed his brow. 

Seeing Damian’s doubt, Carlito added, "To be precise, I stand against the Imperial Family."

"...But Your Highness is the Crown Prince."

"Perhaps in name only," Carlito said, wiping the smile from his face. "I have never once accepted the monster’s blood that runs through my veins."

His expression hardened as he leaned forward.

"The Imperial Family is far more rotten than you could ever imagine. Even now, terrible things are happening and being buried without a trace."

Listening silently, Damian finally asked, "How can I trust you?"

For all he knew, this could be a trap.

"Fair enough," Carlito said with a small chuckle, as if expecting that reaction. He snapped his fingers. Without a sound, a figure appeared, placed a thick file on the table, and disappeared.

Damian flinched, unnerved by how silently the figure had moved. Carlito pushed the file toward him.

"What is this?"

"My every weakness."

Carlito leaned back comfortably, utterly unbothered despite handing over such dangerous information.

Inside, the file listed all his transgressions: hosting illegal slave auctions, running narcotic parties with banned substances, even allegedly impregnating a maid and killing both her and the unborn child.

"Oh, and that last story about the maid? That's not true. She’s alive, raising the child in a hidden place, guarded carefully."

Other than that, one common thread ran through all the scandals: every single one implicated high-ranking nobles. If these secrets were exposed, the nobles – not just Carlito – would be the first to fall.

"If you still doubt me, you can release it to the press."

"How can I be sure this isn’t fabricated?"

"That’s for you to decide."

Carlito shook his head as if saying he’d offered all he could.

Damian studied the file for a long time before finally asking, "What is Your Highness’s ultimate goal?"

The unexpected question made Carlito blink rapidly, before he answered, after a short pause: "...Revenge."

T/N: Edmund and Daphne could not even take a rest. I really wish for Sergei’s satisfying ending 👿

I see Carlito now in a different light, but that doesn’t mean I hate him less. 

— — — 

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