The Fake Madam Disappeared

In the midst of her blurry vision, Daphne tightly closed her eyes. She lifted her face and her vision cleared.

His jet-black hair and eyes that seemed to hold the stars within them. A man, drawn with graceful yet delicate lines, he was as dazzlingly beautiful and perfect as ever.

His lineage as a Duke, title as a war hero and status as a protector of the empire.

A cold-blooded man, devoid of emotion. A demon. 

And yet, she had loved him to the point of cursing her own fate. Ever since the moment they first met.

Her chest throbbed as if she had, without realizing it, allowed herself to hope. But Edmund hadn’t come for her. She wasn’t his goal. 

Daphne struggled to steady her ragged breathes, parting her lips to speak.

“Edmund, listen carefully. This child...” She was about to continue when her surroundings abruptly shifted.

Edmund, sensing a sudden murderous intent, grabbed her and rolled to the ground, holding her close. A finely honed dagger was now embedded in the spot where they had been standing moments ago.

“Your Excellency!”

She could hear Eugene’s shout, mixed with the cries of the crowd. It wasn’t too far off.

‘Why did I only sense the killing intent now?’

Edmund was puzzled, realizing too late that danger had crept up on him. At the same time, he looked down in a hurry, checking Daphne. Other than being startled by the sudden situation, she was unharmed.

Edmund stood up quickly before another assassin could charge at them, forcibly pulling Daphne to her feet by the shoulders.

“If you run straight ahead, my men will be there.”

“…”

“Daphne.”

He shook her shoulders again, and finally, her eyes regained focus.

“Run.”

Edmund pushed her in the direction of Eugene. 

Then, he scanned the surroundings swiftly. There were three of them in total. Too few and too weak to pose a serious threat to someone like Edmund. He drew his sword as he waited for the crowd to disperse.

‘Who sent them?’

Edmund thought back to those with the intent to send assassins his way, recalling their faces one by one.

But none of them would be foolish enough to send only three to face him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. As the crowd cleared, Edmund moved first, slashing the neck of the nearest assassin. It was too easy. The assassin had been glancing around, seemingly caught off guard, and fell without resistance.

‘Red eyes?’

The moment he saw the strange, red eyes peeking out from the covering on the assassin’s face, the memory of Bled’s lackeys came flooding back.

“!”

As if the final puzzle piece had fallen into place, Edmund’s body moved on its own.

The assassin’s numbers, far too few to challenge him, the attack as if they had been waiting for him to lower his guard. And at his side, there was Daphne. 

The real target was not Edmund, but Daphne. 

Realizing this too late, Edmund frantically searched for her.

“Daphne!” At his shout, Daphne turned just as the assassin threw a dagger.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“What?” Damian paused in the middle of slipping his arm into his shirt. “Father disappeared?”

Vent picked up the fallen shirt and helped Damian into it.

“Lord Alec disappeared too, so it seems something happened overnight. But it’s nothing serious.”

“Who said that?”

“The butler.”

There was only one butler in this household – Benjamin. In fact, there had never been a butler before him; the Chamberlain had always handled such duties. Hearing that Benjamin had delivered the message, Damian’s suspicions eased.

“Alright, hurry up and finish dressing. You need to be on your way.”

Vent urged him on to his next appointment.

Even with Edmund suddenly gone, Damian’s schedule was to proceed as planned. He attended his lessons, shared a light breakfast with his vassals, attended more lessons, reviewed documents, and finally engaged in a swordsmanship session.

“Phew, I’m really starting to struggle now, Young Duke.”

Chris, the vice-captain of the Black Knights, who had become Damian’s sparring partner for the day, set his sword down, smiling despite having the reputation of being cold.

“At this rate, you’ll easily surpass me by next year.”

“I’ve still got a long way to go.” Damian exhaled deeply, catching his breath.

Chris wasn’t just being polite. As someone who had often sparred with Damian, he had noticed that Damian’s skills had advanced tremendously since returning from subjugating monsters.

It was remarkable, almost unnerving. It was as if he was watching a younger version of Edmund, like a reflection in a mirror. Although Edmund at that age had possessed an unearthly intensity that was hard to put into words, Damian's monstrous side was unmistakable.

Edmund had always been like a ravenous beast. Perhaps a parched desert would be a more fitting metaphor. When Chris had first seen Edmund, he had been the lone survivor of a battle, having single-handedly slaughtered all his enemies.

The memory of the uncontained aura from that time still lingered vividly, sending a shiver down Chris’s spine as he massaged the back of his neck.

“Is something on your mind today? You seem a bit distracted.”

“…Really?”

Damian paused mid-way through cleaning his sword but responded nonchalantly.

“Yes. Did the council heads say something again?”

“Marquis Sovel tried to push his daughter on me.”

“The Marquis’s daughter?”

Marquis Sovel’s daughter, Seria had recently become the new darling of high society and was often the subject of gossip. She was even the same age as [Damian].

After the Marquis’s subtle suggestion, other vassals had awkwardly cleared their throats and mentioned what a well-matched pair they would make.

The recent string of banquets at the Sovel estate seemed to have all been part of the plan. It wasn’t a bad match. Sovel’s family was quite influential, and they had recently invested heavily in the mana stone mining industry, making bold moves.

“What did you say?”

“I said I’d consider it.”

“Young Lord.”

Chris spoke carefully, noting how Damian was taking all of this in stride. Sensing his meaning, Damian smirked.

“Don’t worry. I’ve long since abandoned any naive dreams of marrying for love.”

“What…? Why speak as if you’ve lived through life already? 

You’ll surely be able to marry someone you love, Young Lord.”

Chris stumbled over his words, but Damian remained unaffected. After hearing the Marquis’s indirect offer, he had thought she wasn’t a bad match.

Damian finished dressing and made his way to his office. With his schedule now complete, it was time to review some documents. But the papers couldn’t hold his focus for long. 

Chris’s earlier observation during their sparring session had been accurate. Damian opened a drawer and took out a map. Then, he pulled out a piece of paper containing the layout of a mansion he had gotten from Vent.

Damian compared the two but couldn’t quite piece things together. After squinting at them for a long while, alternating between the two, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Vent.

“Young master, are you still awake?”

Vent’s question made Damian glance at the window. The dark sky had long since taken over.

“Ah…”

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed while staring at the map.

“You even skipped dinner. Your father will be fine. Don't worry so much.” Vent continued to chatter, unaware of just how off the mark he was with his reassurances.

“Didn’t you say your throat was sore? From the way you’re talking, it seems fine now.”

“…Cough, cough!”

Vent suddenly started coughing, clutching his throat.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave…. Please get some rest…” With a voice trembling like a frightened goat, Vent made his exit.

“Oh, one more thing. Your Godmother will be arriving early tomorrow morning.”

Come to think of it, the blizzard had almost stopped. Travel should be easier now.

“Alright, goodnight.”

“Yes, sir.”Nôv(el)B\\jnn

After Vent left, Damian laid down but tossed and turned for a long while. Eventually, he got out of bed, picked up his sword, and headed to the training ground. For hours, he swung his sword over and over.

“Ha…”

Wiping away the sweat that dripped down his face, Damian felt his mind clear, even if just slightly, from the physical exertion. 

Could his father have gone to find mother? Mother must still be alive. If she returned, I would ask her the questions that had plagued me, and once I had answers, perhaps these overwhelming, conflicting emotions would finally subside.

Damian quickly turned back as the first light of dawn began to break through the sky.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Who?” Sophia's eyes narrowed.

“A maid named Marinda.”

The name felt familiar yet distant. Sophia, who was having her shoulders massaged, straightened her half-leaning body. Having just returned to the Duke’s residence a few hours ago, she still hadn’t shaken off her fatigue.

“Ah, the maid the Duchess brought with her.”

Now she remembered. The Duchess, who had arrived with nothing but herself, had brought along a maid from her family’s household. But why was that maid looking for her?

“Let her in.”

Before long, Marinda entered the room.

“Greetings, Your Grace.”

Sophia frowned slightly at Marinda’s unexpectedly pretty face.

“What do you have to say?”

Marinda’s eyes quickly scanned behind Sophia. Noticing this, Sophia hesitated for a moment before gesturing with her hand. The maids standing behind Sophia left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

“It better be important, if you’re going this far.”

“Your Grace,” Marinda hesitated. “I’ve thought about this a lot. But no matter how much I thought it over, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be wrong for an elder of the family, like yourself, not to know…”

Not to know? Sophia hastily put down the teacup she had been holding. Everything that happens in this household reaches her ears. But there is something she doesn’t know about?

“Speak quickly.”

Marinda slowly opened her mouth.

“The Madam... She has fallen in love with another man and eloped in the middle of the night.”

Marinda handed over a stack of papers.

As Sophia turned over each page, her expression subtly changed. Though she was pleased to have found dirt on the Duchess, a question quickly arose.

“Aren’t you the Duchess’s maid?”

“But it makes no sense for Your Grace not to know. No matter how disgraceful the incident, you should be informed.”

Sophia set the evidence of the Duchess’s affair down on the table.

“What is it that you want?”

Marinda reminded Sophia of herself when she was younger. Acting innocent while shrewdly securing everything she wanted – it was a trait Sophia admired. But that didn’t mean she would simply play along with her.

“And?”

…… 

T/N: Birds of the same feather flock together. I can feel the angst building up~

E/N: I'm so tensed… What will they plot next 😩. Let Daphne be in peace. 

(T/N: A huge shoutout to sanemucpnr_! Thank you for supporting this novel! We will try our best to deliver more chapters ♥️♥️♥️)