The Fake Madam Disappeared -
Vol. 1 - Ch. 80
Chapter 80
"Young Lord."
At the sudden voice, Damian lifted his head. Standing there was Benjamin, who must have entered unnoticed.
"I knocked several times…"
"Ah, I was too focused on work," Damian replied, turning his gaze back to the papers he had briefly set aside.
"Did you manage to get some sleep?"
"I did."
"When?"
Damian, answering while skimming through the documents, moved his lips slightly. His memory of when he had actually slept was vague.
Seeing this, Benjamin, as if he had expected it, quietly set down a cup of warm tea.
"It's wonderful that you're handling everything so well, but overexerting yourself before you're fully recovered is dangerous."
Damian lifted the teacup and took a sip. Benjamin, well aware that Damian was trying to avoid a scolding, let out a soft sigh.
Benjamin had learned that Damian’s sleepless fixation on paperwork began after hearing of the Madam's suicide. Though he had watched silently for days, he knew this couldn’t continue. Damian would truly collapse at this rate.
Without hesitation, Benjamin began gathering the piled-up documents.
"I'll bring you the remaining files once you've had a proper rest this afternoon. Until then, Johann and I will review them."
With unexpected speed, Benjamin swiftly exited the office, vanishing with the documents in hand. Damian tried to rise from his seat to stop him but ended up slumping back down heavily.
Looking down at his hand, he noticed it was trembling uncontrollably. Just as Benjamin had said, Damian's body had yet to fully heal. After days of sitting rigidly and working through the night, his body was now sending out distress signals.
Damian knew this as well.
But with even Edmund gone, he couldn’t afford to slacken. Otherwise, the Imperial Family would pounce at the first opportunity.
Obeying Benjamin’s plea, he closed his eyes, attempting to get some rest. But as soon as he did, a vivid figure emerged in the darkness.
["…Mother."]
It was Daphne, her legs grotesquely twisted as though she had leapt from a great height. Her clothes, soaked in blood, dragged along the floor as she approached Damian.
The reason Damian couldn’t sleep was simple: in his dreams, Daphne would appear, dying in countless different ways.
As she drew closer, Daphne whispered:
["It's your fault. I died because of you!"]
The moment Daphne’s cold, withered fingers wrapped around Damian’s neck, he jolted awake. Gasping for air, he saw Benjamin rushing over.
Though Benjamin had yet to say a word, Damian rose to his feet as if in a trance, heart pounding.
"You've returned."
It had been a week since Edmund disappeared, and three days since Damian last woke. And now, Edmund had finally come back.
He was holding Daphne in his arms, her body breathless, her heart still.
* * *
The door swung open.
Everyone gathered outside turned their attention toward Baroness Nouvelle as she emerged.
"What happened, Madam?"
Benjamin was the first to ask.
"Is the Madam… is she alright?"
Benjamin’s voice trembled uncontrollably. He had seen it clearly – the lifeless pallor of the Madam's face, her body stiff as stone.
"…Her breathing has stopped."
Ah.
Benjamin closed his eyes tightly.
From the moment Edmund laid Daphne down in the room, he had not moved a single step. Now, passing the Baroness, Edmund entered the room once again. He walked toward the bed where Daphne lay.
"Daphne."
Reaching out, he brushed her hair back. It was dry and brittle, lacking even the faintest shine – hair that already seemed more corpse than living.
"Is it true?"
Damian, who had silently followed him in, asked quietly.
"Is Mother truly… gone?"
"…She’s not dead."
Damian bit down hard on his lip and approached the bed.
Daphne’s face was deathly pale, her lips drained of all color. Her body was rigid, and no breath could be heard.
She was dead.
Watching Edmund simply stare blankly at Daphne, Damian clenched his fists tightly.
"What were you doing, Father? While Mother ended up like this…!"
Damian’s anger burst forth before he could stop himself. Edmund blinked, vacant and unfocused.
"…I don't know. I don’t know what I did."
He looked utterly broken, like a machine that had malfunctioned.
Benjamin, Johann, and Alec quietly entered the room from outside.
"Your Excellency, you have the mana stones given by the Information Guildmaster, don't you?"
At those words, Edmund’s eyes snapped into focus.
There were records that the first Saintess had revived even the dead whose hearts had stopped. Edmund hurriedly pulled out two mana stones from his cloak and placed them over Daphne’s chest.
Channeling a bit of power, the stones began to emit a radiant light. The light was absorbed into Daphne’s body, but there was no response.
Discarding the now-dimmed mana stone, Edmund placed the second one over her chest without hesitation, even though it should have been reserved for healing his own wounded shoulder.
Another burst of light soaked into Daphne.
A suffocating silence filled the room.
"…Just now."
Edmund leaned in close to Daphne.
"Her heart beat."
At his words, Baroness Nouvelle rushed over and grabbed Daphne’s wrist. Pressing her fingertips firmly against it, she shut her eyes and focused every nerve.
After a long, tense moment, the Baroness’s eyes flew open.
"…It’s beating."
Though faint and fragile, Daphne’s heart had resumed beating. So weak that it could cease at any moment, but it was beating nonetheless.
Though it was unclear how Edmund had noticed such a barely perceptible pulse before anyone else, it was certain now: Daphne’s life was hanging by a thread.
"It seems the mana stones infused with divine power are effective."
* * *
Smiling, Elizabeth lifted her teacup. At that moment, someone approached.
Recognizing Yllin, Elizabeth quickly excused herself.
"Excuse me for a moment."
"Take your time."
As Elizabeth left the room, Yllin hurried to catch up with her.
"I told you not to interfere, didn’t I? Do you know how hard it was to set this up…"
"Duke Winter has returned."
"…Really?"
Elizabeth, who had been frowning in irritation, widened her eyes in surprise.
"But… I failed to kill the two."
Elizabeth wasn’t particularly disappointed; she had known from the start that the command she gave was reckless. She merely wanted to test Yllin’s loyalty.
"As long as they don’t find out we’re behind it, it’s fine."
"Just in case, I went to clean up the assassin’s body… but something was odd."
"What was?"
"There was a thick pile of ash everywhere."
Elizabeth furrowed her brows.
"Is that all?"
Waving her hand dismissively, she turned away.
"Why are you bothering me with something so useless?"
Yllin tried to explain that ash like that couldn’t naturally form in that forest, but Elizabeth had already disappeared back into the room.
'Honestly, so useless.'
The more time she spent with Yllin, the more she missed Grace’s clean and flawless efficiency. She briefly considered replacing Yllin but knew now wasn't the time.
"Is something the matter?"
Inside the room, a woman wearing a white mask covering only the lower half of her face asked with a gentle smile.
"No, I apologize for keeping you waiting, Saintess."
The Saintess smiled, her beauty apparent even from the small portion of her face that was visible.
'She looks strangely familiar.'
Elizabeth couldn’t help staring at the Saintess’s exposed jawline.
Noticing this, the Saintess tilted her head.
"Is there something on my face?"
"Ah, no. It’s just... you seem so beautiful that I wondered why you wore a mask. It's nothing."
Elizabeth quickly brushed off the topic, eager to move on. She had spent an enormous amount of money and effort to orchestrate this ‘coincidental’ tea time just as the Saintess entered the Imperial Palace.
She couldn’t afford to be distracted by trivial curiosities.
"Hmm. Are you curious?"
The Saintess, however, didn’t let it slide.
"I’ll show you, but only to Your Highness."
Smiling, she lifted her mask.
* * *
"What did you say?"
Sergei frowned upon hearing his subordinate’s report.
"Her Highness entered the palace with the Saintess."
"Ha."
Sergei sighed.
As always, the Princess was more of a hindrance than a help. He had been expecting the Saintess to seek him out directly after her return to the palace. Instead, he was now heading toward the Princess’s quarters.
"There you are."
"Ah, Marquis Bled."
The Saintess rose gracefully to greet him.
"Your Highness, I had such a wonderful time today. Let’s meet again soon."
"…Yes."
Elizabeth stammered slightly, responding awkwardly.
Watching the situation carefully, Sergei waited until the Saintess stepped out before issuing a cold warning.
“I told you not to involve the Princess or Crown Prince.”
“Oh, I merely shared a little secret with her.”
The Saintess murmured, feigning innocence, her lips curling into a sly smile as she glanced back at the closed door.
Inside the room, Elizabeth sat alone, lost in thought.
'What just happened...?'
The Saintess had removed her mask, revealing the beauty Elizabeth had expected.
But when she dropped her robe…
… Long black hair spilled out, and eyes, a striking shade of gray, curved into a soft crescent smile. She looked astonishingly like Edmund.
'No, no.'
Not Edmund.
Damian.
But the Saintess was clearly older than Damian.
Which meant…
… Damian resembled her.
As a child resembles their mother.
T/N: So Damian’s mother, or rather the Saintess, didn’t die but simply faked her death just so she could become the Saintess? Then what’s her deal with Sergei? I have more questions than answers now 🤯
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