3. False roots
Daphne remembers the mansion as a very quiet place. Her mother loved trees instead of flowers, and she especially cherished the laurel tree that resembled her.
“I hate it when flowers bloom and fall, because they’re so fragile.”
When Daphne once picked a daffodil for her mother with her tiny hands, her mother took the flower and said this.
“Look.”
The daffodil in her hand was already withering. It was not the fresh flower she had wanted to show her mother. The drooping stem was already telling her of the flower's death.
“Poor thing.”
Her mother muttered as she took the flower in her hand. She had picked the yellow flower because it resembled her mother. But even she, as a child, realized it vaguely.
Rather, the withered flower resembled her mother. Her delicate and frail appearance. Her sad smile. Her fragility, as if it could snap in the wind.
"It's okay."
“...Heeeek, Mom!”
“You have a mother. You are a tree. It’s okay because you are a tree.”
The great seductress who trapped the Emperor between her legs, the lewd whore who cannot live without a man, and the illegitimate child with dirty blood.
Beatrice, the woman who was followed by all the derogatory names in the world, but was also the world of young Daphne and the person she loved the most, hugged her beloved daughter tightly.
“You will never lose, my dear daughter.”
Beatrice didn't know why Daphne was crying so much. Maybe it was because the hand patting her back was so affectionate.
Was it because the embrace was warm, or was it because the soft voice whispering in her ear felt so good? Daphne cried for a long time.
Daphne.
The name is named after the laurel spirit. It was a name Beatrice had personally given. She hates flowers because they bloom and fall. She likes trees that take off their clothes when she waits and then sprout leaves again. Trees that are firmly rooted in the ground.
“So, daughter, always wear that necklace. Never take it off in front of your father.”
“Yes, Mom.”
When Beatrice untied the necklace, Daphne's green eyes turned blue. Beatrice loved Daphne's 'blue eyes' so much, not her 'green eyes'.
“Except when it’s just you and me.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Daphne smiled, knowing that her mother loved her eyes. Beatrice raised her hand and stroked her poor daughter's hair.
“Women are like flowers. I, too, had no choice but to become a flower. But you will become a tree.”
“...”
“My eternal lover, whom I loved and loved. Just like Oliver.”
Beatrice smiled sadly. At that time, Daphne did not know what it meant. She only knew that her father's name was 'Oliver.'
"Daphne!"
Daphne smiled brightly and hugged the man who had been holding her. The man with jet-black hair and green eyes kissed her cheek.
“Daphne, this is pretty.”
Daphne's father was not always at home.
He visited this isolated mansion only very rarely, sometimes only when the snow had fallen hard enough to make it fall, and the dry branches were just beginning to sprout leaves.
Today was Daphne's ninth birthday, one of those summer days when the garden's greenery takes on a richer hue.
“Are you here, Your Majesty?”
Your Majesty. Daphne's expression darkened when she heard that. Having begun to receive instruction in etiquette, she now knew what the word Your Majesty meant.
The Emperor of this country.
Her father was the Emperor of this country. At some point, Daphne realized that the man called 'Oliver' was not her father, nor the Emperor. Every time she saw this man who loved her, her heart sank.
It didn't matter that her mother was in the government. All that mattered was that she was deceiving her 'father', who had green eyes. This is how she liked him.
“Daphne, what is that to your father? I thought you were five years old.”
As soon as the Emperor lowered Daphne to the floor, she grabbed the hem of her skirt and bowed in greeting.
“Father, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.”
“What is that! Stop it, hahaha!”
Her father burst into laughter.
“You're a smart kid. You're already read all the history books by the age of nine.”
"Yes?"
“Even the tutors all praise this child. They say she is so smart.”
“That’s amazing, Daphne. I’m proud of you.”
At one point, she couldn't look at his warm green eyes properly. She bit her lips slightly and lowered her head. Her father burst into laughter, thinking that it was shyness.
No.
No.
She was ordinary. She liked history books, but only because they were fun.
The tutor's praise was merely flattering the mother, who was favored by the Emperor. When she heard the tutor criticize her mother's promiscuity, she knew that her world was twisted.
“So, that woman’s son is useless.”
Beatrice smiled coquettishly and leaned against the Emperor, linking her arms. The Emperor looked at the flirting woman with loving eyes and kissed her.
“So, for the child’s birthday present, can you give me just one?”
"What?"
“Please take this child to the palace.”
At some point, her mother's face darkened, and her eyes took on a dark color. Her mother, who was sad and weak, began to express her affection in a way she had not done before.
The Emperor looked at Daphne with a smile, one corner of his mouth raised, and spoke affectionately.
"Of course."
“That would be really nice, Daphne.”
No, nothing is good.
No, Mother. I don't want to go.
But Daphne's opinion was not accepted.
“Do you understand? I can’t go.”
“...”
“Go and show yourself to the palace. Just follow your father.”
Daphne wore a bright green dress that best matched her eye color. It was the most billowy dress she had ever worn. It was slightly suffocating as it was cinched at the waist with pure white, flowered silk. Beatrice had carefully braided her hair and decorated it with flowers.
When she looked in the mirror, she looked like a tree fairy.
Her face was covered in blotchy freckles, her cheeks were as red as ripe tomatoes, and her blond hair looked shabby, as if it had lost its color rather than its luster.
They say that only the most splendid and flower-like beautiful people go to the palace, but would it be okay for someone like her to go there?
“You must wear a necklace.”
"Yes."
A gold necklace hung around her neck. Her eyes turned green as she played with the pendant. They waited for the Emperor for a long time.
When they went outside at the sound of the carriage arriving, the person waiting for them was not the Emperor, but the Emperor's attendant.
“His Majesty has sent word to bring the young lady.”
“His Majesty?”
The mother couldn't ask any more questions as the servant looked at her with contempt. Instead, she pushed Daphne. As she hopped into the carriage, her mother saw her off with a smile.
“Poor Prince.”
The servant spoke, looking at the insignificant girl below her waist. Daphne did not know what he meant.
Really, she didn't know.
Daphne was struck by the grandeur of the palace. It was vast, wide, tall, and spacious. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of the gardens decorated with flowers instead of trees.
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Sir, where are you going?”
The servant responded angrily to Daphne's innocent question.
“I’m busy. Can you go see His Majesty alone? The road is easy. Over there.”
The place he was pointing to was the largest building in the center. Unlike the small mansion, the square building had a blue dome that looked like a round ball cut in half, and pointed horns adorning it.
It's a long walk through the garden, but it's okay. Mother told her to do it well. This isn't difficult. Daphne nodded with a determined expression. Then the servant smiled and said.
“Yes, good girl. Then have a good day.”
Daphne bowed gracefully as her mother had taught her and walked towards her destination.
But the large building was much farther away than she had thought. In addition, the garden had corners like a maze, so she wandered and wandered.
On a hot summer day, the sun was too hot. And where was this place? She thought she was going straight ahead, but the road kept leading her in the other direction.
She went to the back of the tree and sighed, then went to stand where the shade looked the coolest. She wanted to flop down, but she was afraid that if she found out later that she hadn't acted like a lady, she would get in trouble.
So she nodded and looked at the building that was still far close. It was then that the man, no, the boy, appeared.
“Are you lost?”
It was a gentle voice. But now she knows that too much gentleness can be creepy. Daphne looked toward the voice. Someone appeared behind the thick tree. The first thing she saw was a straight nose.
The boy looked out of place in this fancy, stuffy place. Baggy shirt. Disheveled clothes. Could he be a boy who works here?
“I asked if you were lost.”
Was it because her puberty was approaching? The sound of that voice gave her goosebumps, and she flinched back without realizing it.
As the boy moved, there was a sound of something falling. Daphne knew it was a book. The boy bent down and reached out with his long arms to pick it up. Daphne noticed that his eyelashes were quite long.
But the moment he raised his head slightly and stared at her clearly, she couldn't help but be surprised, as if someone had grabbed her heart.
Green eyes like eagle eyes were looking at her.
He was a truly beautiful boy. His black hair, without even a hint of brown, was so black that it seemed as if even light would not pass through it. It did not feel ominous like a crow's feathers, because of the boy's appearance and kind eyes.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?”
Daphne nodded. The boy chuckled. She couldn't figure out what was so good about it.
“Where are you going?”
“Let’s go find His Majesty.”
"His Majesty?"
His eyes narrowed. A leisurely blink, not particularly surprised. If she were an adult, that might seem strange, but she was only nine. She was precocious, and she was depressed, carrying all the worries of the world on her shoulders.
Not knowing what the leaf-colored eyes meant, she followed him, smiling brightly.
“How old are you?”
“Nine years old.”
“I am eleven years old.”
He didn't look like that. He looked to be about fifteen. His arms and legs were straight, and his height was tall. The boy spoke smoothly even when they first met, and he laughed occasionally. If she had friends her age, would this be how it would feel? She wished she had friends, or at least brothers and sisters.
“Yes. Here you go.”
Her expression turned regretful in her gentle tone. It was now time to part with the boy. And it was time to meet her external 'father'.
“Then I guess I’ll be going now.”
“Your name is...”
When she asked timidly, almost mumbling, he narrowed his eyes and said,
“It’s Asherad.”
“Asherad.”
It was an unusual name. A dreamlike name, as if it came from a myth.
As she tried to pronounce the word 'she' with difficulty, he smiled deeply. The line of the corners of his lips going up was so elegant that Daphne felt embarrassed at the mess of expression she had in front of him.
As her body slumped in depression, the boy, Asherad, patted her shoulder as if to console her.
At that moment, she gasped without realizing it as a hand tightened around her shoulder.
It was the first time she had experienced pain. She couldn’t even scream, so she looked at Asherad and saw him smiling kindly. It took me a while to realize that the kind and gentle smile was the same as the pain he had inflicted on me.
“Oh, it hurts!”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Asherad hurriedly lowered his hand. Daphne looked at him with frightened eyes, but he looked truly sorry. He looked at his hand holding Daphne’s shoulder and raised the corners of his mouth.
“Well, let’s meet again, Daphne.”
She felt like she had heard him somewhere, but she couldn't remember who he was. She nodded sadly, feeling sorry to part with the boy in front of her, without any sense of familiarity with his name or any sense of wonder about the boy knowing her name.
Thinking back now, she should have cut off her foot before she went to the palace. She shouldn't have met that guy.
No, she should have just killed that guy, that bastard, the moment she met him.
Daphne remembers the mansion as a very quiet place. Her mother loved trees instead of flowers, and she especially cherished the laurel tree that resembled her.
“I hate it when flowers bloom and fall, because they’re so fragile.”
When Daphne once picked a daffodil for her mother with her tiny hands, her mother took the flower and said this.
“Look.”
The daffodil in her hand was already withering. It was not the fresh flower she had wanted to show her mother. The drooping stem was already telling her of the flower's death.
“Poor thing.”
Her mother muttered as she took the flower in her hand. She had picked the yellow flower because it resembled her mother. But even she, as a child, realized it vaguely.
Rather, the withered flower resembled her mother. Her delicate and frail appearance. Her sad smile. Her fragility, as if it could snap in the wind.
"It's okay."
“...Heeeek, Mom!”
“You have a mother. You are a tree. It’s okay because you are a tree.”
The great seductress who trapped the Emperor between her legs, the lewd whore who cannot live without a man, and the illegitimate child with dirty blood.
Beatrice, the woman who was followed by all the derogatory names in the world, but was also the world of young Daphne and the person she loved the most, hugged her beloved daughter tightly.
“You will never lose, my dear daughter.”
Beatrice didn't know why Daphne was crying so much. Maybe it was because the hand patting her back was so affectionate.
Was it because the embrace was warm, or was it because the soft voice whispering in her ear felt so good? Daphne cried for a long time.
Daphne.
The name is named after the laurel spirit. It was a name Beatrice had personally given. She hates flowers because they bloom and fall. She likes trees that take off their clothes when she waits and then sprout leaves again. Trees that are firmly rooted in the ground.
“So, daughter, always wear that necklace. Never take it off in front of your father.”
“Yes, Mom.”
When Beatrice untied the necklace, Daphne's green eyes turned blue. Beatrice loved Daphne's 'blue eyes' so much, not her 'green eyes'.
“Except when it’s just you and me.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Daphne smiled, knowing that her mother loved her eyes. Beatrice raised her hand and stroked her poor daughter's hair.
“Women are like flowers. I, too, had no choice but to become a flower. But you will become a tree.”
“...”
“My eternal lover, whom I loved and loved. Just like Oliver.”
Beatrice smiled sadly. At that time, Daphne did not know what it meant. She only knew that her father's name was 'Oliver.'
***
"Daphne!"
Daphne smiled brightly and hugged the man who had been holding her. The man with jet-black hair and green eyes kissed her cheek.
“Daphne, this is pretty.”
Daphne's father was not always at home.
He visited this isolated mansion only very rarely, sometimes only when the snow had fallen hard enough to make it fall, and the dry branches were just beginning to sprout leaves.
Today was Daphne's ninth birthday, one of those summer days when the garden's greenery takes on a richer hue.
“Are you here, Your Majesty?”
Your Majesty. Daphne's expression darkened when she heard that. Having begun to receive instruction in etiquette, she now knew what the word Your Majesty meant.
The Emperor of this country.
Her father was the Emperor of this country. At some point, Daphne realized that the man called 'Oliver' was not her father, nor the Emperor. Every time she saw this man who loved her, her heart sank.
It didn't matter that her mother was in the government. All that mattered was that she was deceiving her 'father', who had green eyes. This is how she liked him.
“Daphne, what is that to your father? I thought you were five years old.”
As soon as the Emperor lowered Daphne to the floor, she grabbed the hem of her skirt and bowed in greeting.
“Father, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.”
“What is that! Stop it, hahaha!”
Her father burst into laughter.
“You're a smart kid. You're already read all the history books by the age of nine.”
"Yes?"
“Even the tutors all praise this child. They say she is so smart.”
“That’s amazing, Daphne. I’m proud of you.”
At one point, she couldn't look at his warm green eyes properly. She bit her lips slightly and lowered her head. Her father burst into laughter, thinking that it was shyness.
No.
No.
She was ordinary. She liked history books, but only because they were fun.
The tutor's praise was merely flattering the mother, who was favored by the Emperor. When she heard the tutor criticize her mother's promiscuity, she knew that her world was twisted.
“So, that woman’s son is useless.”
Beatrice smiled coquettishly and leaned against the Emperor, linking her arms. The Emperor looked at the flirting woman with loving eyes and kissed her.
“So, for the child’s birthday present, can you give me just one?”
"What?"
“Please take this child to the palace.”
At some point, her mother's face darkened, and her eyes took on a dark color. Her mother, who was sad and weak, began to express her affection in a way she had not done before.
The Emperor looked at Daphne with a smile, one corner of his mouth raised, and spoke affectionately.
"Of course."
“That would be really nice, Daphne.”
No, nothing is good.
No, Mother. I don't want to go.
But Daphne's opinion was not accepted.
***
“Do you understand? I can’t go.”
“...”
“Go and show yourself to the palace. Just follow your father.”
Daphne wore a bright green dress that best matched her eye color. It was the most billowy dress she had ever worn. It was slightly suffocating as it was cinched at the waist with pure white, flowered silk. Beatrice had carefully braided her hair and decorated it with flowers.
When she looked in the mirror, she looked like a tree fairy.
Her face was covered in blotchy freckles, her cheeks were as red as ripe tomatoes, and her blond hair looked shabby, as if it had lost its color rather than its luster.
They say that only the most splendid and flower-like beautiful people go to the palace, but would it be okay for someone like her to go there?
“You must wear a necklace.”
"Yes."
A gold necklace hung around her neck. Her eyes turned green as she played with the pendant. They waited for the Emperor for a long time.
When they went outside at the sound of the carriage arriving, the person waiting for them was not the Emperor, but the Emperor's attendant.
“His Majesty has sent word to bring the young lady.”
“His Majesty?”
The mother couldn't ask any more questions as the servant looked at her with contempt. Instead, she pushed Daphne. As she hopped into the carriage, her mother saw her off with a smile.
“Poor Prince.”
The servant spoke, looking at the insignificant girl below her waist. Daphne did not know what he meant.
Really, she didn't know.
***
Daphne was struck by the grandeur of the palace. It was vast, wide, tall, and spacious. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of the gardens decorated with flowers instead of trees.
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Sir, where are you going?”
The servant responded angrily to Daphne's innocent question.
“I’m busy. Can you go see His Majesty alone? The road is easy. Over there.”
The place he was pointing to was the largest building in the center. Unlike the small mansion, the square building had a blue dome that looked like a round ball cut in half, and pointed horns adorning it.
It's a long walk through the garden, but it's okay. Mother told her to do it well. This isn't difficult. Daphne nodded with a determined expression. Then the servant smiled and said.
“Yes, good girl. Then have a good day.”
Daphne bowed gracefully as her mother had taught her and walked towards her destination.
But the large building was much farther away than she had thought. In addition, the garden had corners like a maze, so she wandered and wandered.
On a hot summer day, the sun was too hot. And where was this place? She thought she was going straight ahead, but the road kept leading her in the other direction.
She went to the back of the tree and sighed, then went to stand where the shade looked the coolest. She wanted to flop down, but she was afraid that if she found out later that she hadn't acted like a lady, she would get in trouble.
So she nodded and looked at the building that was still far close. It was then that the man, no, the boy, appeared.
“Are you lost?”
It was a gentle voice. But now she knows that too much gentleness can be creepy. Daphne looked toward the voice. Someone appeared behind the thick tree. The first thing she saw was a straight nose.
The boy looked out of place in this fancy, stuffy place. Baggy shirt. Disheveled clothes. Could he be a boy who works here?
“I asked if you were lost.”
Was it because her puberty was approaching? The sound of that voice gave her goosebumps, and she flinched back without realizing it.
As the boy moved, there was a sound of something falling. Daphne knew it was a book. The boy bent down and reached out with his long arms to pick it up. Daphne noticed that his eyelashes were quite long.
But the moment he raised his head slightly and stared at her clearly, she couldn't help but be surprised, as if someone had grabbed her heart.
Green eyes like eagle eyes were looking at her.
He was a truly beautiful boy. His black hair, without even a hint of brown, was so black that it seemed as if even light would not pass through it. It did not feel ominous like a crow's feathers, because of the boy's appearance and kind eyes.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?”
Daphne nodded. The boy chuckled. She couldn't figure out what was so good about it.
“Where are you going?”
“Let’s go find His Majesty.”
"His Majesty?"
His eyes narrowed. A leisurely blink, not particularly surprised. If she were an adult, that might seem strange, but she was only nine. She was precocious, and she was depressed, carrying all the worries of the world on her shoulders.
Not knowing what the leaf-colored eyes meant, she followed him, smiling brightly.
“How old are you?”
“Nine years old.”
“I am eleven years old.”
He didn't look like that. He looked to be about fifteen. His arms and legs were straight, and his height was tall. The boy spoke smoothly even when they first met, and he laughed occasionally. If she had friends her age, would this be how it would feel? She wished she had friends, or at least brothers and sisters.
“Yes. Here you go.”
Her expression turned regretful in her gentle tone. It was now time to part with the boy. And it was time to meet her external 'father'.
“Then I guess I’ll be going now.”
“Your name is...”
When she asked timidly, almost mumbling, he narrowed his eyes and said,
“It’s Asherad.”
“Asherad.”
It was an unusual name. A dreamlike name, as if it came from a myth.
As she tried to pronounce the word 'she' with difficulty, he smiled deeply. The line of the corners of his lips going up was so elegant that Daphne felt embarrassed at the mess of expression she had in front of him.
As her body slumped in depression, the boy, Asherad, patted her shoulder as if to console her.
At that moment, she gasped without realizing it as a hand tightened around her shoulder.
It was the first time she had experienced pain. She couldn’t even scream, so she looked at Asherad and saw him smiling kindly. It took me a while to realize that the kind and gentle smile was the same as the pain he had inflicted on me.
“Oh, it hurts!”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Asherad hurriedly lowered his hand. Daphne looked at him with frightened eyes, but he looked truly sorry. He looked at his hand holding Daphne’s shoulder and raised the corners of his mouth.
“Well, let’s meet again, Daphne.”
She felt like she had heard him somewhere, but she couldn't remember who he was. She nodded sadly, feeling sorry to part with the boy in front of her, without any sense of familiarity with his name or any sense of wonder about the boy knowing her name.
Thinking back now, she should have cut off her foot before she went to the palace. She shouldn't have met that guy.
No, she should have just killed that guy, that bastard, the moment she met him.
Support Novellate!
Comments
Post a Comment