Cesare stood motionless in the center of the tavern, the bloodied knife heavy in his hand. He had just taken the lives of dozens of men—civilians, something unprecedented for him. As commander-in-chief of the Imperial Army, this was an unprecedented act… and unforgivable.
According to the laws of the empire, the men in the tavern were, technically, innocent. No law had been broken by desecrating the body of an executed criminal, however repugnant their behavior had been. Still, the magnitude of their actions weighed heavily upon him.
But he killed them anyway. He slit their throats, bathed in their blood, and yet the suffocating weight on his chest hadn't lessened. In fact, the sensation tightened even more, as if the air were being ripped from his lungs.
The girl he loved, his precious Eileen, was beheaded on the guillotine. Her once beautiful form, now displayed in a macabre way, was nothing more than a grotesque trophy for the perverse amusement of others.
Only after massacring dozens of those depraved scoundrels did Cesare finally understand what he truly desired. It wasn't the Traon Empire he had wanted to protect. His laurel wreath had always been meant for Eileen—and no one else.
But Eileen no longer existed in this world.
The full weight of this truth hit the man like a physical blow. The feeling of being torn apart inside wasn't just anger, but an intensity of emotion he had never experienced before.
For someone like Cesare, who had always maintained an almost colorless emotional detachment, this profound agony was unbearable. He looked at his bloodied hands and thought:
'Who do I need to kill to make this pain stop?'
But not even his once brilliant mind could formulate an answer. All that lay before him was an endless abyss.
— …
Gradually, Cesare pulled himself away from the confused memories. He ran his hand over his face, forcing himself to piece together the scattered fragments of his thoughts. He worked to separate reality from illusion, carefully aligning the fissures in his shattered mind.
The insistent sound of the rain hammered in his ears, irritating him like a persistent itch. The urge to cut himself, whether with a knife, a gun, anything sharp enough, surged within him again.
But this was the reality—the world in which Eileen still existed. She had already committed an unforgivable act; if she did anything more, Eileen would be unable to bear it.
Suppressing the futile impulse, Cesare approached her. Eileen lay on the bed, looking more frail than ever. Her face was pale, almost cadaverous. Cesare stared at her for a long moment before leaning down, his face hovering close to hers.
He listened to her breathing for a while, then slowly slid the bandage wrapped around her neck with his fingertips. A self-deprecating smile crept onto his lips as he imagined the imprint of his hand likely etched beneath the bandage.
That's absurd, Eileen.
His hand trembled as it brushed against the white fabric. He murmured helplessly to the woman who could not hear him:
I almost killed you with my own hands.
He had endured so much pain to bring Eileen back, only to nearly destroy everything. He believed he was coping well with his condition, but his inability to distinguish between illusion and reality revealed how deep he had sunk. He needed to end it before he completely collapsed.
Eileen…
Carefully, Cesare lay down beside her. He knew very well that at that moment he was the greatest threat to Eileen, but he couldn't pull away. He wrapped his arms around her small body, pressing her close to him.
Eileen…
He wouldn't sleep that night.
Throughout the long, sleepless night, Cesare watched over her, his eyes never leaving her little face.
Eileen had returned in tatters, with a bandage wrapped around her neck. She had no idea how to explain it to anyone. The thought of what she would say to the Grand Duchy's team or to Sonio weighed heavily on her mind.
However, no one asked what happened or how she got hurt. It seemed that Cesare had already spoken to them before.
Cesare…
Eileen sighed and put down her fountain pen. When she woke up that morning, Cesare had already left. She had so many questions piled up inside her, waiting for him.
And yet, when she found herself facing him, it seemed she couldn't do either of those things. The memory of his hands tightening around her neck and the words he'd spoken while doing so haunted her.
"I love you."
Eileen had never understood Cesare before, but now he was becoming even more incomprehensible. She had always trusted that the man had his reasons and had hoped that he would reveal his intentions, but…
'He is suffering.'
She couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, filled with pain, and the way he had stared at her while squeezing her throat. The idea of him hurting himself again terrified her.
'What if it happens again?'
Finding and eliminating the cause of his suffering seemed like the best solution. But how could he get the man to open up? Was there another way to understand his strange behavior? As he pondered this, a soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
— Madam.
Sonio's gentle voice brought Eileen back to reality. She realized, startled, that she had left the tip of her pen resting on the paper for too long, causing the ink to smudge the page. She quickly lifted the pen, her face flushing with guilt as she looked at Sonio.
— Everything's fine. It wasn't an important document.
Sonio calmly replaced the ruined sheet with a new one. Eileen took a deep breath, composing herself.
Thanks to Sonio's rigorous training, she was already able to handle most of her responsibilities. Lately, Sonio only needed to help her with more complex tasks or review her work. Once she improved a few remaining points, she would be able to manage everything on her own.
Eileen resumed writing, the tip of her pen lightly scratching the paper. Ever since she hurt her throat and decided to remain silent that day, she had been communicating with Sonio through written notes.
[Please take a look at this.]
She handed him a piece of paper. She had momentarily forgotten about it, absorbed in thoughts of Cesare, but she needed to show it to him today to get his opinion.
It was a daily schedule she had drawn up for herself as Archduchess. In addition to her official duties, it included time for her research on Morpheus and for her ongoing work at the pharmacy. The schedule was based on her observations of the household routine since she moved into the mansion.
Since it was just an initial idea, he wanted Sonio to review it and give suggestions. He prepared three alternative versions in case he considered this one inadequate.
'What if he rejects them all?'
Eileen watched nervously as Sonio read the program, trying to gauge his reaction. Her pen was positioned, ready for his response.
[In the morning, I handle the Grand Duchess's duties. After lunch, I do my research, and in the evening, I finish the remaining tasks. What do you think?]
She waited anxiously. Finally, Sonio looked up, his face filled with wonder.
— I told you that you didn't need to worry about the Grand Duchess's duties, but…
His expression was one of proud approval, like a father watching his son achieve something remarkable. Eileen felt a little embarrassed, receiving such praise for something she saw as her responsibility. She scratched her cheek with the back of her pen, then wrote again:
I would also like to hire someone to help me.
Sonio, the head butler who managed the entire Erzet mansion, personally trained Eileen in the responsibilities of the Grand Duchess. His guidance was essential in her rapid adaptation.
But Eileen knew she couldn't rely on Sonio forever. He was already busy overseeing Cesare's affairs and managing other household tasks. It was time to relieve him of his responsibilities.
She couldn't bear the thought of wasting Cesare's resources on her.
For some reason, Sonio hesitated. He didn't answer immediately, and when he did, there was a hint of sadness in his voice.
— If that is your wish, madam, I will make the arrangements.
Her tone held disappointment and melancholy. Eileen was caught off guard and quickly scribbled another note.
[I enjoy working with you, Sonio! But you can't spend all your time managing my affairs.]
Despite attempts to reassure him, his expression remained downcast. He murmured softly, his voice tinged with sadness:
— You're taking away the last joy from an old man…
In the end, Eileen had no choice but to promise that she would continue to count on him. After concluding their discussion about the timeline, she moved on to the next matter, her pen gliding swiftly across the paper.
[Sonio…]
He hesitated for a moment before concluding:
[Cesare is not acting like himself.]
There was no need for further explanation—Sonio would understand exactly what she meant.
Eileen bit her lip, then made her first decision to exercise her authority as Archduchess.
[May the Lord summon the Knights of His Grace?]
To be continued…