Chapter 95

Translator: wuttisyun

Castor added, sounding terribly bored.

“You’re correct.”(1)

It looked like Hernan was standing behind Castor. But I could see nothing, neither Dane nor Hernan, because Castor was covering my entire view as if he was protecting me. I raised my head compulsively. Because I did not have any diary entry that could clearly explain what was going on here.

‘In this space, there is me, Rebecca as well as Dane, Fleon and Lord Ray.’

It felt like we were standing on a roulette board.

‘Who’s going to die now?’

Gritting my teeth, I raised my head.

“If you have something against my behaviour, file a complaint, Your Highness.”

“Ah, against the other old foxes in this place? I’m sure you’ll lose.”

“Well, I can’t do anything against the great power that is the crown prince. Aren’t you the heir of the almighty Lord above?”

“You talk a lot but yeah.”

All I could see his throat but at the moment, he seemed to be tilting his head before smiling slowly.

“Empress. I’ve been speaking to you directly for a while now. Are you trying to look the other way?”

Castor’s languid voice was no longer speaking formally.

“Or are you too stupid to notice?”

“What are you talking about?”

The next moment, I noticed the Empress looking my way with her pale face.

“Don’t… Don’t tell me… That rumour was true?”

A rumour? I could only blink at the expression of astonishment and surprise directed towards me.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about? Was it not the empress who invited me?”

At that moment, I was pulled towards him and locked in his large embrace.

“Because if you invited this child, you’re inviting me as well.”

Our bodies fitted into each other without any gaps.

“Did you not hear the rumour?”

His low voice entered my ears and at this proximity, it only tickled my ears.

“You’re being too much.”

His voice was fascinating as it melted me. As I expected, his voice was too good to be true. I wanted to cover my ears. It was really–

“How did I hold myself back for these two years… Huh?”

Who, was he? I wanted to ask him then. Because I was getting goosebumps. He was talking in a friendly tone I had never heard before in my life.

“I left all my work behind because I was worried about my cherished sister.”

His devilishly enchanting voice penetrated my being. The shock shook my vision.

An unpleasant ecstasy surrounded my body.

‘Cherished? Who?’

I froze. As if I had bit into a glacier. It felt like my blood had stopped flowing as I was gripped by a fear of being pushed off a cliff as shivers travelled down my spine.

Hernandez’s face crossed my mind.

Did he manage to become someone else in the time we did not see each other? No. It could not be.

For the 40 times I regressed, he had remained the same. He killed me without hesitation and laughed as I died.

That smile still haunted me in my dreams. It did not make sense for him to change.

‘Calm down. Let’s think this over.’

He was both a lunatic and a stubborn person. He thought of everyone as chess pieces he could use on a chessboard. What did he want to come all the way here?

Castor had a goal in mind and it was fair to say he was trying to use me.

“Cherish? You?”

Sadly, however, I had not enough information to make any conclusions.

“… You mean that princess with something on her cheek?”

I was desperate for my diary.

“Do you really care for her?”

“Cheek? Ah.”

I tried to keep my composure somehow.

“I already told you.”

But what he did next baffled me.

“B-brother. Hold… hold on!”

Rip.

Like a sticker, my bandage fell off. My cheek felt lighter as if a weight had been lifted off that area. Bewildered, I stared at Castor. The bandage that had been on my cheek had been pulled off by Castor and fell helplessly to the ground.

“Look.”

Castor whispered. The sound of blood dripping on the ground echoed in the background. Before I knew it, I was back on the 10th day of Habermia. The moment when a sword sliced through the air before another maid fell.

“S-s-save me please. Princess…”

Even until the last maid was dead, I was left frozen, unable to do anything. It felt like I had been brought back to the time when I could not even scream.

“This is my work.”

When I raised my head, I faced him as the fading light fell on his mesmerising face. The late afternoon light coloured his golden eyes with a tinge of brilliant scarlet. Even under the setting sun, his pupil remained golden as if gold had been melted to form his eyes.

How old was Castor now? He now looked closer to the novel’s descriptions of him. He was now mature, masculine and dreamy.

“This is my mark.”

“A mark? Do you mean to say you’re responsible for that terrible scar?”

The empress replied looking as if she barely managed to come to her senses.

“That’s right.”

He tilted his head casually.

“What’s the problem? I made a mark on her because what’s mine is mine.”

His bright eyes turned towards me. As if he was really telling the truth, a hint of madness flashed across his eyes. He blinked his brilliant golden eyes that resembled the sun before pulling the corners or his frowning lips and grinning lukewarmly.

“So that she will never forget me for the rest of her life.”

At last, I was staring at the face I had seen dozens of times before in his radiant eyes that did not look like a human’s. It was my disfigured face. In a distant memory, the face I had seen in my 40 deaths had shattered before merging together.

‘Can’t… forget…’

He was not technically wrong. But the nuance behind his words was disturbing.

‘You? To me?’

Right. I had died and died again dozens of times because of him. So he would stay in my memories even if I did not want him to. Even when I tried to forget, he would appear in my nightmares. No matter what was to happen in my life, I could never forget him when he was the one who gave me my hardships, made me struggle to live and threatened my life. But he was the one!

He said it himself. Was he mocking me?

It felt like my blood had stopped flowing. It felt like I had been killed before rejuvenating in the same unpleasantries.

At that moment, what came to mind was the image of me crying as I was dying from the slice of his sword. Seeing Castor, I would always be reminded of the nightmares of my deaths. It felt like I had been in that nightmare hundreds of times by now.

But still, it was strange.

Just as my anger was about to encroach on my reason, I saw someone fall onto the ground though it was a figment of my imagination. A dying expression. The ruffed up hair. Eyes that were losing their light.

But I was not looking at my face, I was looking at Castor’s.

‘This scar that has been with me for the past 17 years was because of you?’

The one who was the most curious at this moment was me. The only person who knew was my nanny and she swore on the River Styx that she could not tell anyone. I had never met my biological mother but it seemed like she knew as well. Was Castor going to proclaim he made this scar without giving any evidence or reason to back him up?

Staring at him, I made my own inferences.

‘Castor does not move for no reason.’

Whether it be cleverly hidden or painfully obvious, there was always a reason for his actions. Always.

‘I’m sure no one will make fun of the scar on my cheek after today.’

It was true that I was benefiting from his intimidation on everyone today.

But he could not have come all the way here to help me. I was talking about the ‘Castor’. Would the man who killed me 40 times before, help me now?

‘There is no way this is a coincidence. There has to be a purpose.’

It looked like from the beginning he had business with the empress and I had just been caught in the middle of that. Because I made for a good cause. As a result, he helped me but I was not going to be swayed by his words.

Then what was the real reason why Castor visited this place?

“There is suspicious movement in the 4th administration.”

And the Aedile’s seal Castor wanted so much.

‘Was the thief who stole it a long time ago sent by the 2nd Prince?”

But of course. There was too little information to go off on. I felt like I was going to burst out laughing.

The atmosphere of the banquet was already so messed up as if it had shattered.

“Oh dear… Amadema’s face…”

“How terrible…”

“Maybe it’s a curse…”

There was a great deal of commotion over the bandage he had taken off without my consent.

Oh dear. Unbelievable. How ridiculous. Dear god. There were all kinds of exclamations. The implications behind them were all clear.

“What… This is treason against the Empire. How dare you distort the face of our sole Amadema?”

As he stared at the crowd, Castor smiled languidly. He elegantly tilted his head before answering the empress’ question.

“What’s the problem?”

He knew that asking her arrogantly was the most powerful attack he had against her.

“Do you really feel insulted or are you just saying that, Your Majesty?”

As if she was losing her spirit, the empress replied.

“Of course. Because of you, everyone will be alarmed when they see her cheeks. Because you said she was ‘yours’.”

Castor spoke after pursing his lips.

“If you have any complaint against me, raise your right hand.”

Who would dare raise their hand after hearing that? They would have that arm cut off right then and there. That was what he made it sound like.

“See. There’s none.”

At this moment, as the arrogant authority in this space, he drew his lips up languidly before smiling. He looked like a black leopard lying atop the meadow. His expression exuded arrogance but he did not look awkward.

“My lovely Ashley. Tell me if there’s anything bothering you.”

Funnily enough, this was the most peaceful interaction we had. No one got hurt. No one died. And I was neither injured nor dead.

“Because I would get rid of anything in front of you.”

He whispered incredibly slowly

“Should I get rid of everything?”

“N-n-no!”

Why the hell was Castor treating me like this?

“No. It’s fine. I-I don’t want to see blood. Since this is my f-f-first symposium after all!”

An easy toy? One of his many soldiers? A game he could not find on his chessboard?

“Is that so? What a shame.”

Right. Actually, I hoped he was the one who wounded me. It was much easier to direct my hatred towards Castor to blame it on someone unknown. All my resentment and hatred had been directed towards Castor alone and I did not have the capacity to loathe someone else.

‘He’s already killed me dozens of times before so what’s the difference if he also wounded me?’

My feelings were drying up. It was only convenient for me to blame him for all my devastation. That would be nice. If he was responsible for the scar on my cheek…

Or was this his lazy sophistry? (2)

T/N:

(1): Just so you know, this was hernan

(2): Sophistry seemed to be more befitting but it basically means deception lol