Chapter 64

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: The Price Paid
-----------------------------------------------------------------

She had always thought something was strange. Aileen was puzzled whenever she encountered the fleeting emotions he revealed—feelings so heavy they were incomprehensible. His words and actions often felt foreign.
She wanted to know what had made him change.
But asking Cesare the reason directly was never easy. While Aileen trembled with tension, Cesare was perfectly at ease.
He gave the hand she was holding a gentle shake. Startled, Aileen let go, but he immediately caught her by the wrist.
Her wrist was barely a handful in his large grasp. She recalled how he could easily encircle both of her wrists with just one of his hands.
Cesare gripped her wrist firmly, preventing her from pulling away, and spoke as casually as if nothing had happened.
“Weren’t you curious about the wound?”
“That, too… I’m curious about that, too.”
She had asked about the wedding ring first because it felt like the right thing to do. She couldn’t explain it clearly, but she had a gut feeling that the ring and the disappearance of his wound were somehow connected.
Aileen steeled herself and looked up at Cesare. She was determined to get an answer, but the moment she met his red eyes, her resolve melted away like snow.
A sudden, sharp pain shot through her wrist. Cesare was gripping it too tightly. She whispered to him softly.
“That hurts…”
Despite her gentle plea, Cesare didn’t let go. He stared at her for a long moment before slowly, deliberately, relaxing his grip. He rubbed the red imprint his fingers had left on her wrist as he began to speak.
“I read your diary.”
Cesare whispered, his eyes curving into crescents.
“It was cute, Aileen.”
Her heart plummeted. Her diary contained every trivial detail of her life. Naturally, that included all of her feelings for Cesare, recorded without omission.
Not only her love for him, but her resentment as well…
The diary was her emotional outlet. She had scribbled her thoughts so hastily that she could hardly remember what she’d written. This was the same Aileen who could memorize botany textbooks by heart, yet had forgotten the contents of her own journal.
The thought of everything being exposed to him made her want to flee. But she suppressed the urge and thought it over calmly. What he said was physically impossible.
“But… you didn’t have time for that.”
When she cautiously pointed out the discrepancy, Cesare’s smile only deepened. A dark crimson light swirled in his eyes. Aileen bit her lip as she looked into their darkened depths.
‘Those eyes again.’
Eyes filled with a heavy, profound emotion she couldn’t begin to fathom.
Cesare didn’t respond to her correction. Instead, he pressed his lips to the mark he’d left on her wrist. He held them there for a moment before pulling away to speak.
“The wound on my hand.”
His ambiguous answer hung in the air.
“I was merely paying a price. Just as you paid the price of becoming the Grand Duchess to escape execution, I, too, had to pay what was due.”
She didn’t understand his words. But then, it wasn’t an answer he expected her to understand.
His answer only confirmed it. Cesare wanted her to remain in the dark.
The elation she’d felt just moments before came crashing down, leaving her crawling in the dirt. Covered in filth, Aileen thought blankly.
‘Even though I’m the Grand Duchess, I’m still just someone who only receives.’
Far from easing his burdens, she was just a cumbersome weight. It was only natural that he couldn't rely on her, yet her heart still stung. It was as if someone had pricked her with a needle, waking her from a sweet dream.
The sharp point of reality was painful. But Aileen didn’t give up. She mustered her last ounce of courage.
“…I don't understand what you mean.”
She looked up at Cesare and asked carefully.
“Could you please explain in more detail?”
Her eyes must have looked terribly desperate. But Cesare shut down her request without a moment's hesitation.
“Not now.”
She didn't want it to, but his direct refusal pained her deeply. It felt as if he had publicly confirmed her own uselessness. Her lips trembled for a long moment before she quietly replied.
“Yes…”
She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes any longer and lowered her gaze. Cesare immediately cupped her cheek, but he didn’t force her to look up. He simply caressed it gently as he continued.
“You were crying when we first met, and you were crying at the end, too.”
“…”
“From now on, if there's anything that will make you cry, I want to postpone it as much as possible.”
Fighting the stinging in her nose, Aileen said.
“I-I feel like I'm going to cry right now…”
“Crying this much is fine.”
She wondered how much she would have to cry for it to not be fine. In any case, not crying at all was surely for the best. As Aileen bit her lip to stifle her tears, he kissed her.
The placating kiss was gentle, yet somehow forceful. He parted her lips, preventing her from biting them again, and meticulously licked over her smooth teeth and the tender flesh within.
He teased her gently, ensuring she felt pleasure, yet when her tongue retreated, he captured it, pulling it back to torment it as he pleased. After licking away the saliva that had pooled in her mouth, he broke the kiss.
Aileen gasped, desperate for air. Cesare looked down at her heaving chest with his crimson eyes and spoke with surprising tenderness.
“I’ll have to make you cry a little, one way or another, Aileen.”
***
It had happened when Aileen was twelve and Cesare was nineteen. Upon hearing that the child had been kidnapped, Cesare had ridden straight for the capital. He did so fully aware that he was deserting his post.
As always, Cesare's knights followed his command, and all five were branded deserters.
It didn't matter. He had been able to save the child.
“To think you would do such a thing, knowing full well how I cherish and take pride in you!”
Shirtless and kneeling, Cesare silently endured the Emperor's fury. The Emperor swung the whip, brought by his chamberlain, without mercy. The man who was said to have commanded battlefields in his youth was still strong in his old age. With every crack of the whip, flesh tore and blood splattered.
The Emperor regarded Cesare as an extension of himself. Though their only shared traits were a large build and fierce eyes, he constantly boasted to everyone that Cesare was his spitting image. When Cesare claimed victory on the battlefield, the Emperor would preen as if the achievement were his own.
The Emperor could not accept that his treasured prince had been reduced to a deserter over a mere child. And so, to teach his favored prince a lesson, the Emperor administered the whipping himself.
Though beaten until his body was a bloody mess, Cesare never uttered a single groan. The Emperor, who had been lashing out as if to vent his rage, finally paused. He let the blood-soaked whip hang limp as he asked.
“Is she your woman now?”
Suppressing a hollow laugh, Cesare forced his lips open.
“The child is merely twelve years old.”
The Emperor smirked at the first words he’d heard since the flogging began. He looked down at Cesare and asked in a much softer tone.
“It is a bit early, but she is old enough to marry. Has she begun to bleed?”
Cesare didn’t answer right away. He swallowed the blood that had pooled in his mouth before replying.
“…I believe not yet.”
“I see. Well then. Shall I give her to you for your… sexual education?”
Cesare, who had kept his gaze lowered throughout the punishment, finally looked up. The Emperor was smiling grotesquely.
He was drawing a line in the sand. He warned Cesare that the girl could never be his bride; if he had taken a liking to her, he should just take her body and be done with it.
“I was only concerned because she is my wet nurse's daughter.”
Cesare met the Emperor's eyes directly and slowly continued.
“You know well that I grew up without a mother.”
The daughter of the only person who had ever been kind to a prince abused by his own mother, a prince with nowhere to turn. That convenient shield protected Aileen once again. The Emperor's mood instantly lifted, and he let out a hearty laugh.
“It is good for a man of high station to be clear about his debts and grudges. But my son, you must also learn to command your inferiors.”
The Emperor’s eyes bored into Cesare. He warned him sternly.
“There must not be a next time. Do you understand?”
The Emperor was now aware of Aileen's existence. The realization filled Cesare's lungs with the scent of blood. Then, a slow smile spread across his face as he replied.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
It was the moment Cesare decided he had to kill the Emperor.