Chapter 3

1. Commander Mirane Laster (2)

The Monster of Wicker.

Yes.

That was, in truth, the most terrifying part of this marriage.

It accounted for half of Mirane’s anxiety.

Grand Duke Valenstein was infamous for possessing an appearance so horrifying that anyone who saw him would faint from terror.

According to rumor, a witch who had been insulted by the previous Grand Duke and Grand Duchess had cursed their son, transforming him into a monster.

The wandering minstrels sang gruesome ballads about him.

A beast that tore people apart and drank their blood.

A cruel Grand Duke who bit through human throats, drank blood, and violated maidens.

His savage disposition and hideous appearance had combined to give him a dreadful reputation known across the continent.

“The Monster of Wicker…”

No matter how hard Mirane tried to calm himself, ominous thoughts continued to creep into his mind.

If even a fraction of those rumors were true…

Then nothing but hell awaited him.

No matter how he tried to reassure himself, the swamp of anxiety only dragged him deeper into despair.

As time passed, his expression gradually stiffened.

His thoughts became consumed by visions of a miserable future.

Then—

He suddenly came to his senses.

…What am I doing?

His breathing stopped.

They’re only rumors.

I haven’t confirmed a single one of them myself.

The unease in his eyes slowly settled.

Steadying his wavering heart, Mirane Laster straightened his back.

He hadn’t even met the man yet.

There was no reason to fall into despair now.

It was unproductive…

And, above all, discourteous.

Worrying about it would only deepen his fears.

It would accomplish nothing.

Besides…

In a way…

Wasn’t the Grand Duke worthy of pity?

A bitter smile appeared on Mirane’s lips.

A man mocked by an entire continent…

Cursed through no fault of his own.

Just like me…

Abandoned by his own family…

People said Castel von Valenstein had been confined to a lonely tower ever since childhood because the previous Grand Duke and Grand Duchess could not bear to look at him.

They claimed he avoided others because years of ridicule had taught him to hide himself away.

Gradually…

The fear faded from Mirane’s eyes.

In its place appeared compassion.

A child born from love…

How could parents treat that child so cruelly?

Families were meant to cherish one another.

Parents were supposed to love their children unconditionally.

A child never gets to choose their parents…

So why would anyone despise their own flesh and blood more than a stranger?

“A child born from love…”

The phrase made him laugh quietly.

He remembered his own childhood.

Growing up alone in a vast mansion.

The mother who had disappeared while he was still young.

The cold-hearted father who had neglected him…

Only to sell him away in the end.

Mirane’s heart gradually became as calm as the sea.

Closing his eyes, he quietly whispered the name.

Castel von Valenstein.

As the night wind drifted through the window…

So too did the old songs sung about the Grand Duke.

“Proud Joachim insulted a witch.

Enraged, the witch cursed Joachim’s son.

Who could have foreseen it?

When beautiful Roselin gave birth to Joachim’s child…

The snow-like infant with rosy, gentle cheeks

Would become like a man who had wandered through a forest of thorns.”

Another song followed.

“Have you heard?

A monster lives in the north of Obert.

His face is scarred like one stricken with disease.

The Grand Duke who can slay a hundred lions.

As the witch departed from Joachim, she declared:

‘I leave your son a face as hideous as mine…

And abilities as extraordinary as mine.’

Thus was the Witch of Obert perfectly fair.”

Mirane slowly opened his emerald-green eyes.

He remained motionless for a long while.

Finally, letting out a weary sigh, he reached toward the window to close it.

Just then—

Click.

The sound of a door opening echoed through the room.

Mirane’s eyes widened.

Startled by the unexpected presence, he turned toward the entrance.

The moment he saw who stood there…

His eyes flew open.

“…You?”

A sensuous woman stood in the doorway.

Her dress exposed her smooth thighs, and long reddish-blonde curls cascaded over her shoulders.

Bathed in moonlight, she looked almost radiant.

“Lord Mirane…”

A helpless smile escaped Mirane’s lips.

He understood the situation immediately.

“Leave.”

His voice was hoarse.

“I’ll speak to Father…”

“No!”

The woman’s eyes filled with confusion.

Mirane’s face had gone deathly pale.

Tonight…

It’s the full moon!

The forgotten realization shattered his composure.

For the first time, he reacted with genuine urgency.

He grabbed the woman’s arm just as she stepped over the threshold.

“Ah!”

The sound of her catching her breath made Mirane freeze.

She saw it…

A trace of displeasure crossed his usually gentle face.

His sharp gaze pierced the woman.

His voice became low.

“You mustn’t come in here.”

The prostitute—someone ordinarily skilled at reading her clients’ moods—stood frozen in place.

Her expression had gone blank.

Her entire body trembled.

Watching her, Mirane eventually sighed.

This wasn’t her fault.

“I… I…”

“The Count’s estate is heavily guarded.”

“How did you get inside?”

“W-Well…”

She stammered fearfully.

“The… the Count said… he pitied you.”

“He told me… before you left… that you should spend one last night with a woman…”

Exactly as Mirane had expected.

He gave another bitter smile.

Suppressing the disappointment and anger welling inside him, he spoke calmly.

“Tonight isn’t an appropriate night.”

“Go home.”

“If Father asks, simply tell him this—”

“Mirane does not welcome this kindness.”

With that, he released her arm.

“I’m sorry.”

His quiet apology caused the woman’s face to flush crimson.

Despite the unmistakable dismissal, she remained rooted to the spot.

Only after noticing her staring at his reflection in the window did Mirane smile awkwardly.

In a gentle voice, he urged her once more.

“Please.”

She hurriedly bowed.

“I-I’m… terribly sorry.”

Her hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Listening to them disappear, Mirane let out another sigh.

Father…

Is this really what you call affection?

Pity…?

He knew he was foolish.

He knew how pathetic it was that, even as an adult, he still couldn’t free himself from his father’s control.

That he remained tied to him like a dog on a leash.

Yet Mirane could not disobey Count Laster.

This marriage had been approved by the Emperor himself.

He was the Emperor’s knight.

He was Count Laster’s son.

Whether he loved or hated the man…

He had spent over twenty years living as his son.

Clinging to the tiny scraps of familial affection his father occasionally showed.

Yearning for a love that never truly existed.

That was why he couldn’t refuse him.

It wasn’t loyalty.

It was the obedience of a dog trained through years of submission.

Or perhaps…

Like a dancing bear that had grown accustomed to the whip.

Thus the agonizing night came to an end.

Morning arrived.

The incident with the prostitute had been shocking.

But Mirane had no time to confront his father.

There was simply too much to do before his departure.

He had only one month to hand over all of his responsibilities.

The moment he arrived at the Imperial Palace, he submitted his resignation.

“I believe it’s time for me to step down.”

“My apologies.”

The resignation letter was addressed to Edwick, Commander of the Imperial Guards.

A slender man with shoulder-length black hair and dark green eyes even deeper than Mirane’s looked back at him silently.

Edwick was a high-ranking official responsible for the Emperor’s personal military forces.

He was also Mirane’s direct superior.

As though he had already been informed beforehand, Edwick accepted the resignation without asking any questions.

He merely lowered his eyes and quietly read the neat handwriting.

“…I see.”

His expression was colder than usual.

Most people would have found it intimidating.

Mirane, however, could only smile awkwardly.

Because he knew…

Edwick wore that expression whenever he felt guilty.

Just like now.

“Very well.”

“Mirane Laster.”

“You’ve worked hard.”

He’s blaming himself…

Watching Edwick avert his gaze, Mirane sighed inwardly.

There was no reason for him to feel guilty.

The guilt that Count Laster himself didn’t possess…

Edwick carried instead.

It felt strange.

Yet Mirane couldn’t help but feel grateful.

Seeing the normally icy commander so visibly at a loss warmed his heart.

With genuine affection in his voice, Mirane bowed.

“Thank you.”

He felt nothing but gratitude toward Edwick.

There would surely be another chance someday to reminisce together.

A faint smile remained on his lips as he bowed respectfully.

Watching him, Edwick finally spoke.

“You’ve served the Imperial Knights for twenty-one years.”

Mirane stopped in his tracks.

“There have been knights more talented than you.”

“But there has never been a finer man.”

“Nor have I ever treasured another subordinate as much as you.”

Mirane stood frozen.

Edwick watched him with the same unreadable expression.

After quietly composing himself…

Mirane finally resumed walking.

He left the room.

This time…

Edwick did not stop him.

That single day felt like both heaven and hell.

“Commander… if anything happens, please tell us.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Nothing will happen.”

“Commander… please.”

“Don’t keep everything bottled up.”

So many people mourned his retirement.

Many even wiped tears from their eyes.

The unexpected display of affection filled Mirane with warmth—

And at the same time…

It tore at his heart.

So…

I really did live a good life.

Even as he thought that…

Another thought escaped him.

Who am I…

To deserve all of this?

Silently, he swallowed the ache rising in his chest.