AOTC - Chapter 16

“Anyone wants.”

Oscar tightened his grip on the woman who was beginning to lift her head to break free. He completely seized her astonishingly slender nape with one hand and forced her to look at him. The sizzling heat and misery in her young eyes made tears taste bitter again.

"Hmph..."

That pleading face seemed to be asking him to just leave her alone.

A bitter smile formed on Oscar's lips.

Give up.

Oscar pressed down firmly on the tongue that seemed to be wrapping around and licking his finger, then bit his finger against the white teeth. Then, with a languid expression, he watched the woman bite his finger.

White teeth visible between red lips. Warm breath rising from beyond the narrow throat flowed over the back of the tendoned hand. The breath, flowing shallowly as if tracing the back of the hand, brushed against the tip of the nose.

Oscar's eyes narrowed. It seemed as though a strange scent had brushed past.

However, the thought could not continue any further. It was because he could feel the strength, which had not even seemed to be biting, fading from his fingertips. At the same time, the hand gripping his wrist slowly dropped, and her brown eyes, which had been open as if pleading, gradually closed.

"..."

As even the fidgeting ceased, silence fell over the moonlit bedroom.

As the sound faded, time seemed to stop as well.

The blue gaze glided down to the red lips where the finger was bitten. The low-open blue eyes stared without the slightest wavering at the wet, glistening lips and the long finger that had entered beyond them.

Oscar, having stayed like that for a moment, slowly withdrew the finger he had been holding in her mouth. It felt as though her small lips were licking his finger. His keen hearing picked up sounds that shouldn't have been audible inside her mouth. It seemed as though the sound of wet mucous membranes making small friction was coming from his fingertips.

The finger, wet with clear saliva, showed no signs of being bitten.

He let out a light chuckle and was about to stand up when his brow suddenly furrowed.

An unsurpassed chill settled in Oscar's eyes, which had already calmed down somewhat. He looked down at himself, let out a hollow laugh as if dumbfounded, raised his head, and then looked down at himself again. The gaze he directed at himself was colder than the one he had looked at the idiot Felphe.

"Ha..."

He let out a sigh of irritation and picked up the towel on the bedside table. Wiping the saliva from his hand, he let out a chuckle.

Yeah, she certainly is the kind of woman the brothel owner would have desperately tried not to lose.

Then, the laughter evaporated and vanished like a lie. His true self, completely devoid of laughter, was desolate yet hot, like a black castle swept by a fire where the heat had not yet escaped.

Oscar roughly tossed down the towel he had used to wipe away the saliva, stared blankly down at the completely unconscious woman, and then turned around. He then summoned Simon again.

"Did you call, Your Excellency?"

Oscar came out after washing his hands and leaned back on the sofa. Leaning his head against the backrest, he gazed at the gleaming key and opened his mouth.

"How do you think this key ended up in that woman's hands?"

"...The woman appears to be around 20 years old. Just then, I received a call from Felphe Bank, and they say her nationality is Danguk."

“Danguk?”

"Yes, it is a country on the East Asia Continent, a monarchy adjacent to the Rioher Empire."

Oscar, who had been lost in thought for a moment, spoke again.

"She looks like she's mixed race."

"...I see it that way too, but... I apologize. As for how the key ended up in the woman's hands, aside from clumsy speculation, I..."

“And what about Peter?”

"..."

"Is that bastard still in the sea? And is this key the only one that floated to the surface?"

Oscar, who had been lost in thought for a moment with his head leaning against the backrest, spoke.

"Report No. 2021."

Report No. 2021.

A report stating that Peter had been buried along with the key about three years ago. The person who wrote that report was an intelligence agent for the previous Marquis, a figure regarded as unrivaled in espionage.

"Has there still been no contact from Theresia Wittgenstein?"

"No. There was only a message saying she would look into it a little further."

"Summon her."

The key, which was said to have been buried, had returned openly like this. This was not a matter that could be resolved with just a written apology; moreover, if the key had returned, it was only right to bring him back.

A cruel smile, one that even Simon shuddered at, flickered across Oscar's lips before vanishing.

It was a night when a long-held grudge, thought to have been buried, appeared with a truly beautiful face.

***

Yongcheon, home to the largest port in Danguk.

Merchant ships came and went every day in the clear, blue waters off Yongcheon. Most of them were merchant ships from neighboring countries that had established diplomatic relations with Danguk, but occasionally, ships that had crossed the open sea would also arrive. The merchants who came from the open sea were unusually tall, had high noses, and fair skin. Although they were of different nationalities, the people of Yongcheon simply called them foreigners.

In Yongcheon, a landowning region prosperous from active trade, there lived a landlord family respected by the people for generations. It was a family that opened its storehouses to provide relief during famines and dispatched its own ships to bring back at least the bodies of those who went missing at sea.

There was no one from Yongcheon who had not received help from the Han family, and thus, there was no one who did not love that family.

The eyes of the people of Yongcheon were always fixed on Hoyeonjae, the main house of the Han family.

“You have to stand.”

The gentle voice with deep resonance was like warm summer sunshine, without a single ounce of coldness.

Seo-a looked at the shadows drawn on the floor as a habit. As she watched a well-built shadow leaning close to her own short shadow, a warm voice stroked the top of her head.

"My child, lift your face up. Why are you looking only at the floor?"

Even after hearing those words, she hesitated for a long time. Then, when she slowly raised her head, there stood her father... no, her grandfather, with a long white beard. His black eyes, shining with a light as hard as a tree that had weathered the storms of time, gently took her in.

"Alright, lift your head like that."

The hem of his clothes fluttered in the wind and covered the back of his hand.

"I'm talking about the youngest princess. They say she gets different the older she gets."

"Shhh!"

"No matter how I look at it, she looks like a Westerner. Her face is pale, and her eyebrows, hair, and even her eye color are brown."

"Be quiet."

"I'm telling you, Madam, were she having an affair with a foreigner...?"

"You're going to get into big trouble at this rate! I told you to be quiet!"

"Ah, so bold! I'm not the only one who thinks this way, am I? Everyone who sees the youngest young lady whispers about it like that. That's why they won't let her take even a single step out of the inner quarters, isn't it? They even went so far as to bring in a private tutor from Yeongin's dormitory!"

Although she was young, she naturally understood what those words meant. However, she could not bring herself to say those words out loud that she had overheard by chance.

As the world rippled and tears finally flowed, he slowly raised his hand to wipe them away. After wiping away tears again and again in silence for quite a while, he called out to Seo-a affectionately, just as he always did.

"Baby."

"...Yes."

Then, as if he had seen right through her, he spoke words that were too profound to hear no matter how many times she listened.

"You are my daughter."

She is his youngest daughter, whom he loves the most in the world.

"...Yes."

Even though she knew it wasn't true, she lived relying on those words.

If that hadn't happened, she would have lived like that for the rest of her life.

Making the main house of Hoyeonjae, with its single large hall and two rooms, her whole world; befriending the teacher her grandfather had brought her, thinking she was insignificant; and finding joy in life in occasionally visiting the night market with him...

She must have lived like that as the youngest daughter of Han Hong-heon, the landlord of Yongcheon.

However, the false life shattered into pieces without warning.

Stand.

Stand up, stand up.

Her heart sank at the gentle yet low voice.

Seo-ah realized for inexplicable reasons that this was a dream. At the same time, she knew that this scene was from that night.

A crying sound was heard from afar, and there was a strong smell of blood. The paper windows were stained crimson by the soaring flames.

Footsteps approached from a distance. She recoiled in fear, but just as she stepped back, the door burst open.

The eldest mistress of Hoyeonjae, with her white hair disheveled.

A pitiful person who had lost their beloved daughter to a tragedy stood there in an unseen state. Behind her, roof tiles blazing in the flames were visible.

Standing still with her back to the flames, she looked like someone who had just passed through hell. Or perhaps, she looked like a god who had come to punish a sinner.

“Get up.”

"..."

"Get up and look at what your father has done."

It was a small voice, but it sounded louder than thunder.

"The man who drove my daughter to that state and ultimately caused her death even dug up the grave of your grandfather, who took you in and couldn't bring himself to cast you out in the end..."

She could feel an indelible anger in the sight of her, gritting her teeth and spitting out each letter.

"They took the remains. It is undoubtedly your father's doing."

It felt as if the flames burning the roof tiles had spread to her heart. The black ash and soot leaking from her burning, melting heart blocked her lungs and choked her throat.

Grandfather's remains.

Seo-a trembled uncontrollably, then braced herself against the floor to stand up. Even though she knew it was a dream, her mind went blank. Unable to bring herself to lift her head, she huddled her body as she stepped through the door, when she heard a cold voice.

"Seeing that you aren't even surprised, I see you already knew."

"..."

"If you knew that I am not your mother, and that the person you have called father all this time is actually your grandfather... do you also know what that man your father did to my daughter?"

It was just as summer was beginning, and the wind burrowing into her arms felt like it was cutting through her skin.

Sorry. I am...

She ran blindly, not knowing what was being said and without even putting on her shoes. She heard a scream behind her that sounded like it was going to cut off her breath.

"Go to your father and get your grandfather back!"

She ran through the flames surging into the void and the soot and ash blacker than the night sky. The screams and cries of the people dragged at her ankles like a swamp, and their sharp gazes seemed to cut into her back again and again. In the wake of the pitch-black flames, only mournful wailing and overflowing rage remained.

The world, which had been precariously held together, shattered like a sugar candy. Amidst the falling sky and the crumbling earth she stood on, that person was the only one she could lean on.

“Master!”

However, that man named Father did not take away only Grandfather.

The only person who could properly respond to the silent attack was the master. Although she could not protect her grandfather's grave, the damage was limited thanks to her sacrificing her entire body to block the attackers.

The terrible dream continued, changing scenes.

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