The Fake Madam Disappeared
Vol. 1 - Ch. 79

Chapter 79 

A dark shadow passed over Carlito’s face, but he soon lifted his head with a faint smile.

“Well, let’s leave that for later.”

Changing his expression in an instant, Carlito continued.

“The person we're keeping an eye on is the Emperor’s concubine. From what I found, the name she currently uses, Linda, is an alias. Her real name is Marinda.”

“Marinda…”

For some reason, the name sounded familiar.

“Right. She’s the maid who worked her entire life for House Winter.”

“That’s impossible.”

Johann, who had been silently observing, cut in.

“That maid committed suicide.”

At Johann’s words, Carlito shook his head.

“My information is accurate.”

There was no doubt in Carlito’s voice, leaving Damian puzzled.

Sensing it, Carlito casually added as if it were nothing special.

“Oh, I’m the head of the information guild, you know. There’s no information in the continent that doesn’t pass through me. You can trust what I’m saying.”

“…Are you hiding anything else?”

“I’ll tell you if I remember anything,” Carlito replied with a light smile.

Damian sighed inwardly and refocused on the conversation.

“I saw her corpse with my own eyes. Her neck was broken, and she died instantly. It wasn't black magic. There's no way a dead person could come back to life.”

At Johann’s firm statement, Carlito promised he would re-investigate.

“For now, whether or not she’s the same person, we can figure out later. What’s certain is, there’s something suspicious about the concubine.”

First of all, she rose to the position of the Emperor’s concubine without having been offered by any noble or having ever worked at the palace. Second, the Emperor’s condition – hallucinations and strange symptoms – worsened significantly after she entered his life.

Given that Duke Bevelock is desperate to place his daughter on the throne and is closely watching the Imperial Court, there’s no way a powerless concubine without any backing could maintain her position on affection alone.

Clearly, someone was supporting her from the shadows.

Carlito had suspected as much from the beginning and had launched a thorough investigation.

“Who is it?”

“There wasn’t anyone until just a few days ago.”

An informant planted by Carlito had recently sent a secret message. It concerned the identity of a figure who appeared at what was meant to be a secret wedding between Edmund and Elizabeth.

“It’s the Temple.”

The figure was none other than the Saintess.

* * *

“Thankfully, you’re in excellent health.”

Baroness Nouvelle breathed a sigh of relief. After examining Damian, she found no significant issues. He had lost a bit of weight, but nothing serious enough to disrupt his daily life.

As he buttoned up his shirt after the examination, Damian suddenly asked. 

“But I heard the mana collision was intense. How did I manage to wake up?”

It was a simple question, but Baroness Nouvelle visibly stiffened.

“Madam?”

“Ah…”

The Baroness snapped back to herself and quickly averted her gaze.

“I… I’m not quite sure. I guess you were just really lucky.”

Lucky…?

Her behavior was suspicious, but technically, her answer left no room for argument. Everyone else had simply said the same: that he had been very lucky.

“You’ve worked hard.”

“It’s nothing. Please rest.”

Baroness Nouvelle hurriedly left the room. Watching her hasty retreat, Damian exhaled a long, silent sigh.

With Edmund gone, the estate was now Damian’s responsibility. Every decision would now fall on his shoulders.

‘I have to do well.’

At least until his father returned. The invisible weight of responsibility pressed heavily against him.

* * *

There had been no time to properly process everything – the sudden arrival of a Crown Prince ally among them – and Damian still couldn’t fully trust Carlito.

But Damian had no real choice.

Though he didn’t know the full details, it was obvious the situation at House Winter was dire: the reduced number of servants and the tightened security were proof enough.

‘…Did Mother leave because of Father’s remarriage?’

Daphne, who had left without hesitation after the divorce, came to mind.

What kind of expression had she worn when she left?

She must have looked relieved, finally free of all this. She probably hadn't thought of Damian at all. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have left.

As his thoughts naturally drifted toward Daphne, Damian abruptly stood up and made his way to the training grounds.

It was still early, and the grounds were quiet. There, he swung his sword alone, faster and harder, until the thoughts pulling him toward Daphne began to blur, then fade away completely.

Much later, he stood there panting, watching the sun rise. Lifting his shirt, he wiped away the cold sweat and turned at the sound of footsteps. Two servants carrying luggage were passing through. They hadn't noticed Damian and continued chatting.

“…So I heard something the other day.”

When one of the servants glanced around, Damian instinctively ducked into the shadows. Just as he stepped forward, he heard… 

“It’s about Madam.”

“Madam? What about her?”

“They say she committed suicide on the day of the engagement ceremony. Right in front of His Excellency.”

“What? Suicide?”

Damian froze.

“Keep your voice down! I overheard it by accident, alright?”

“Ah, sorry. But… is it true?”

“I’m telling you, I heard it right. Word is, His Excellency didn’t disappear. He left to take care of things. There’s no way he would’ve gone searching for someone who was already dead.”

“...Yeah, that makes sense. You’ll keep this a secret, right?”

“Of course. You know I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Their voices faded into the distance, but Damian remained rooted to the spot.

He gathered the words swirling chaotically in his mind.

The Madam’s suicide.

“…Ah.”

Damian blinked, realizing belatedly that he hadn’t been breathing. His chest heaved painfully as he struggled to pull in enough air, his body trembling slightly.

‘It can’t be…’

His mother, dead by suicide?

Staggering, he caught himself against a nearby tree.

Why? Why would she?

‘I have to find out for sure.’

Without hesitation, Damian went to find Johann, who was already awake reviewing documents.

“Young Lord? Is something wrong?”

“Is it true… that Mother committed suicide?”

At Damian’s question, Johann's face turned solemn, as if he had been expecting this moment. He nodded quietly.

“It’s true.”

“Why did you hide it?”

Damian asked, surprisingly calm.

“…It was not news you needed to hear right after waking.”

“And the body? Cause of death?”

“As I said, His Excellency left to find her. She’ll come back – safe and sound.”

There was a strange certainty in Johann’s voice.

Damian hesitated, then turned away. His mind was a tangled mess. Perhaps it was because the last thing he had said to Daphne had been so cruel.

Memories of Daphne surfaced again. She had once hidden his birth mother’s keepsake.

Damian tried to steel himself. And then, the headache hit.

Instead of heading back to his room, he turned toward Baroness Nouvelle’s quarters.

Knock, knock.

“Madam. I have a terrible headache… Do you have any medicine?”

A sharp crashing sound came from inside, and Damian threw the door open.

“Y-Young Lord—!”

“Are you hurt?”

“Don’t come in!”

But Damian had already seen it.

“…What is that?”

The Baroness had dropped a small vial, not an ordinary one.

“Why are you carrying a bottle full of blood?”

The sharp, metallic smell left no doubt: it was blood. There might have been a different explanation, but Damian knew better.

“Yesterday, I found the exact same vial in my room. I assume the contents are the same.”

“Young Lord…”

“Tell me the truth.”

The Baroness trembled, then slowly straightened herself. There was no escaping this.

“…Please, you must believe what I’m about to say.”

She swallowed hard.

“This is the Madam’s blood.”

— — — 

Damian didn’t know how he got back to his room. He sat there, staring blankly into space.

[“This is the Madam’s blood. I don’t know all the details, but before she left, the Madam asked me to feed it to you if necessary. At first, I refused. But with His Excellency gone and your condition worsening, I had no choice. I fed you her blood… and miraculously, your body recovered rapidly. You woke up after just three days.”]

Damian knew the Baroness wasn’t someone who would lie about this.

What lingered in his mind was not anger, but the sheer volume of blood she had left behind – blood collected in just one night to save him. The sight of it had nearly suffocated him.

He didn’t even feel particularly shocked – only a tightening, breathless ache in his chest.

[“My wish? For you to disappear.”]

From the depths of memory, Damian recalled the words he had once spat at Daphne.

This… this was what he had wished for back then.

But he had never wished for her death.

‘Had I really… never?’

Had he truly never, even once, imagined her death?

Damian couldn’t say for sure. He couldn’t claim with certainty that he had never wished for it.

But there was one thing he knew for certain: he wanted to believe what Johann had said – that Daphne was still alive.

He wanted her to be alive. If he ever met Daphne again, he wouldn’t ask why she had saved him.

He would tell her: 

It’s okay if you treat me coldly. It’s okay if you push me away with harsh words. Just come back. And tell you that everything I said – every cruel word – was a lie.

T/N: If only it was that easy to erase all the pain Daphne felt with those words… 😭

— — — 

Hello everyone~

So, we decided to open up a challenge. These challenges, when achieved in a specific time frame, have exciting rewards. Please refer below. 

【Challenge 1】

【Challenge 2】