Eileen had always found Cesare's sporadic displays of emotion enigmatic. The intensity of his feelings left her stunned, and his words and actions often sounded strange. She wanted to understand what had caused such a change in him.
However, asking the man directly about the reason for his transformation was no easy task. While Eileen was tense and trembling, Cesare remained relaxed and serene. He gently shook the hand Eileen was holding, causing her to release it in surprise. Quickly, Cesare grabbed her wrist, preventing her from escaping.
Eileen's wrist was much smaller compared to her large hand, which allowed Cesare to easily grasp both of her wrists with one hand. He held her wrist firmly and spoke calmly, as if nothing had happened.
— Weren't you curious about the scar?
I'm curious about that too.
She had asked about the ring first, as it seemed like the right thing to do. There was a vague feeling in her mind that the ring and the disappearance of the scar were somehow connected.
With determination, Eileen looked at Cesare, resolved to get answers from him. However, her courage crumbled as soon as she met his crimson eyes.
Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain; Cesare was gripping her wrist very tightly. She whispered softly to him.
It hurts…
Despite her cautious request, Cesare didn't release her immediately. He stared intently at her for a moment before slowly loosening his grip. Then, he began rubbing the red mark left on her wrist, his lips parting as he spoke.
"I read your diary ," he whispered with a mischievous smile, his eyes curling like crescent moons. " It was quite cute, Eileen."
Her heart sank at the mention of her diary. It contained all her most mundane thoughts and feelings, including every emotion she harbored for Cesare, both love and resentment.
The diary was her emotional refuge, a place where she poured out her feelings and then forgot them. She couldn't even remember what she had written in it. The idea of Cesare having read everything made her want to run away, but she suppressed the impulse and tried to think calmly. What Cesare said seemed logically impossible.
But... you didn't have time to do that.
Eileen cautiously pointed out the inconsistency, which only deepened Cesare's smile. She gazed into those deep, intense eyes; at that moment, a dark, crimson hue shone in them. Eileen bit her lip.
'That look again.'
His eyes held painfully heavy and profound emotions that she couldn't decipher.
Cesare did not respond to her remark. Instead, he brought his wrist, marked by his footprint, to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss over the red mark before finally speaking.
"The scar on my hand… " Her answer was vague and left Eileen even more perplexed. "It was the price I had to pay. Just as you became the Archduchess to avoid execution, I had to pay a price that matched my expectations."
His words made no sense. In fact, they weren't meant for her to understand. With his response, Eileen was certain: Cesare didn't want her to know the truth.
The euphoria she had felt moments before collapsed to the ground. Covered in metaphorical dust, Eileen reflected to herself.
'I may be the Archduchess, but I'm still just someone who receives.'
An uncomfortable weight, instead of support. It made perfect sense that Cesare couldn't trust her, but still, his heart ached. It was as if someone had shattered his sweet dream with a sharp needle.
The harsh reality wounded her. But Eileen, refusing to give up, mustered the last vestiges of her courage.
"I don't understand what you mean, " she said, looking at Cesare cautiously. "Could you explain in more detail?"
She must have seemed desperately hopeful, but Cesare coldly rejected her request.
- Not now.
Although she didn't want to, being rejected so directly by him made her heart ache more than ever. It was as if Cesare had publicly confirmed her worthlessness. Eileen's lips moved silently for a moment before she replied, in a low voice:
- He is well…
Reluctantly, unable to hold his gaze any longer, she lowered her eyes. Without forcing her to lift her head, Cesare gently cupped Eileen's face in his hand. He simply stroked her cheek silently for a while and spoke.
"When I met you, you were crying. And even at the end you were crying. " Silence hung between them for a moment. "Now, if there's anything that could make you cry, I want to postpone it as long as possible."
Eileen replied, her voice trembling, her nose slightly wrinkled as she struggled to speak:
— I… I feel like crying right now…
It's okay to cry a little.
The question of how much to cry hung heavily in the air. Suppressing a sob, Eileen bit her lip, only to be surprised by a kiss from Cesare.
His touch was a paradox, a delicate caress that carried a subtle sense of control. He kept his lips slightly parted, preventing her from biting. Gentle licks explored the smooth surface of her teeth and the sensitive inner lining of her mouth.
Excitement coursed through Eileen's skin as he gently caressed her, even as he caught her fleeing tongue in a tug-of-war. Then, with one last flick of his tongue against the pooled saliva, he pulled away, leaving the air between them thick with feeling.
Eileen gasped, her chest visibly rising and falling. The man looked at her flushed face.
— Eileen… — he whispered softly, a hint of helplessness in his voice. — It seems I can't help but make you cry, at least a little.
Twelve . Eileen was twelve when it happened, Cesare nineteen. The news of the child's abduction hit him like a physical blow. Ignoring orders, he rode straight into the enemy empire. It was a blatant act of desertion, and Cesare was fully aware of it.
Fear was just a distant echo, something that would never stop him. He needed to save her.
His loyal knights, always faithful, followed him.
Five crimson marks, symbols of his transgression, were etched side by side on his back.
“What insolence! ” the Emperor’s voice echoed, heavy with treachery. “How dare you defy me after all these years, after the trust I placed in you!”
Cesare knelt, his torso bare, like a silent statue absorbing the Emperor's fury. The old man, a fearsome warrior in his youth, retained his strength even in his final years. Each crack of the whip left a burning welt, blood welling up on Cesare's back.
The Emperor saw Caesar almost as his own reflection. Although there was little physical resemblance between them, aside from their imposing stature and fierce expression, he frequently boasted that Caesar mirrored him in every aspect. Whenever Caesar achieved victory on the battlefield, the Emperor claimed it as his own conquest.
Unable to accept that his favorite prince had deserted his duty because of a mere child, the Emperor took it upon himself to administer the punishment with the whip, determined to educate the heir he so cherished.
Despite the cruel whippings and being covered in blood from head to toe, Cesare didn't utter a single sound. Pausing briefly in his barrage of lashes, the Emperor extended the bloodied whip and asked:
"At least she became his wife?"
Cesare suppressed a bitter laugh and then forced an answer.
"She's a child, she's only 12 years old."
Hearing the first voice since the beginning of the beating, the Emperor let out a dry laugh. Looking at Cesare, he asked in a slightly softer tone:
"Although it's a little early, she's of marriageable age soon. Has she had her first period yet?"
Cesare remained silent for a moment. After swallowing the blood that had accumulated in his mouth, he finally answered.
"...As far as I know, no."
"Really? Then where should we send her for her sex education?"
Throughout the execution of his punishment, Cesare kept his eyes lowered, raising them only when it was all over. The Emperor smiled disdainfully.
He was drawing a line for Cesare. That meant: [This child can never be your marriage partner, therefore, if you have any feelings for him, keep them strictly physical.]
“I was only worried because she is the daughter of my wet nurse, ” Cesare said firmly, meeting the Emperor’s gaze without wavering. “You know very well that I grew up without a mother.”
For Cesare, who had endured neglect and abuse at the hands of his biological mother, his wet nurse's daughter was the only person he truly valued. His carefully constructed facade once again protected Eileen from any danger. The Emperor, quickly calmed, burst into a sarcastic laugh.
“Securing lineage through a noblewoman is a laudable pursuit. But, my son, you must also learn to deal with the lower classes.”
The Emperor's eyes pierced Cesare's, conveying a solemn warning.
"An incident like this cannot happen again. Do you understand?"
Recognizing Eileen's importance in his life, Cesare swallowed his bitterness. After a pause, he smiled slowly and replied:
"Yes, Your Majesty."
At that moment, sensing the danger, Cesare decided to end the Emperor's life.
To be continued…