At the End of the Shattered Remains of Pure Love - Chapter 5

He lifted his wife, who was like dry straw, and stuffed her into the carriage.

After forcibly putting the woman who was screaming that she wouldn’t go and to give back her child into the carriage, he held his daughter who was burning like fire. The coachman returned to where they had come from, driving for two hours without rest.

***

It was two weeks later that Jeanne met her fiancé.

In fact, Jeanne didn’t even know who the boy was who had climbed over the wall and invaded her bedroom. Perhaps because she had been severely ill for about ten days. Amidst the echoes of her mother’s cries, confined to her father’s bedroom away from her, Jeanne woke up to a disturbance that shook the quiet night.

“Uh…”

The round window rattled and shook. Jeanne, who had fallen asleep even before it got dark in the past few days due to exhaustion, opened her eyes to the loud noise disturbing her ears. The lamp her father had left behind glowed warmly with a well-ripened persimmon color.

Stirring under the blanket, she blinked her eyes a couple of times and then closed them again to go back to sleep. Then the window rattled again.

Jeanne, who thought she had misheard, opened her eyes wide in surprise. Her hair stood on end and cold sweat broke out.

‘Is it a ghost?’

Jeanne hunched her shoulders and bit her lip tightly. After leaving Lord Braims’ mansion, Jeanne had met her father.

Her mother, who said she had been impregnated by the sun rubbing her roundly, just stroked Jeanne’s wavy hair with puffy eyes without saying any words.

If it had been two years ago, she might have whispered, ‘But Mom said our dad was the sun…’ but Jeanne was now eight years old and knew a little about what ‘illegitimate child’ meant. A woman cannot conceive a child alone, and a woman who has a child without a husband is unchaste.

Unless they are widows, all women raising children alone are unchaste and wicked women. So this is a good thing. That a man claiming to be her father has appeared. However…

“Is that you? My little chick?”

Just as she was about to pull the white blanket over her head, thinking of a ghost wrapped in a white sheet, the window that had been latched suddenly opened and an unfamiliar voice was heard.

“Ah!”

Jeanne screamed and rolled off the bed. But contrary to her expectation of hitting her head on the floor, what touched her forehead was a soft object. She opened her eyes wide in surprise.

It was pitch black all around, as the light from the lamp her father had left didn’t reach. She couldn’t see what the object supporting her was. Jeanne whimpered, trembling like a frightened cat.

“Please spare me, Mr. Ghost. Jeanne has nothing to eat. Jeanne is still a baby and needs to grow more.”

“I know that too.”

“…Huh?”

A reply came from the ghost. Jeanne, who hadn’t expected an answer, became even more frightened. Someone lifted Jeanne, who was just rolling her eyes, unable to find her balance.

“Eek!”

Jeanne screamed and looked ahead. Through the light purple curtains fluttering in the wind, a smooth object was visible.

It was a boy. Jeanne looked at him, her dry lips trembling. A boy…

His still unripe face was extremely beautiful.

The boy was sitting on the windowsill with his back to the pale blue full moon. He looked relaxed and at ease.

For Jeanne, it was a height that made her dizzy just looking down… Jeanne’s bedroom was located on the highest floor of this huge mansion.

‘Because Jeanne is Dad’s most precious jewel.’

This room, which he said he would give her when he reclaimed his daughter, was simply called the Room of Joy, which was short for the Joy of Love. It was said that Wolfgang de Spetunia, the ancestor and founder of the family, had personally prepared it for his wife, Princess Alerie, the second younger sister of the founding emperor. Her mother had also briefly stayed in this room, apparently.

Jeanne looked around the spacious room, hugging the rabbit doll her father had given her.

The Room of Joy was undoubtedly called the most beautiful and noble room in the Count’s mansion, and it was said that even Isabeau, the Count’s wife, had once requested to use it as her private room when they got married.

But he refused, using his daughter as an excuse. Although she had the right to demand it as it had been used by the countesses for generations, this room had traces of Elaine and had special meaning to him as the room where he spent his first night with her.

So he wanted to give it to Jeanne.

It was the first time she learned this, but Jeanne was designated as the fiancée of the future emperor.

But Jeanne still didn’t know well what an emperor was. What an engagement was. For the first time, she realized that behind her, adults’ interests and political views were intricately intertwined.

But she still didn’t know what that meant.

‘No matter how insignificant her status is, there’s a limit to blaming the mother and maternal family for their sins. Regardless of her circumstances, she’s a child who should be cherished and cared for. Even now, doesn’t the religious order only recognize Jeanne as the emperor’s consort?’

Jeanne mulled over the muttering she had heard a few days ago. The red-haired lady with the pointed face was said to be her father’s wwife and the mistress of this mansion, another master of her mother.

Suddenly, a chilly sensation tickled her earlobe. The black, blunt aura felt like down.

“…Mr. Ghost.”

The dark energy that had supported her back placed her on the bed. Then it lifted the white blanket and wrapped her tightly. It was just like shadow hands. A darkness brighter than the darkness piled all around…

It was the power of ‘Adam’ that Jeanne felt for the first time, and his ability.

“I’m not a ghost.”

He murmured softly. Jeanne lifted her head and looked at the boy. His elegant contours were breathtakingly beautiful. His face, bathed in moonlight, was graceful and exquisite.

Under his disheveled black hair, intense purple eyes flickered as if holding blue embers. Jeanne could only blush, unable to control her pounding heart.

His handsome scarlet lips were smoothly drawn. Jeanne, who had been fidgeting with her hands while looking at him, lowered her gaze.

She was afraid. Not of the magic he wielded, but because her heart was beating wildly… That was the problem. That was why this moment was unbearable.

“Looks like you don’t remember.”

The boy’s soft voice, as tender as his youthful face, tickled her ear. Just like tickling the earlobe with a feather. Jeanne’s lips quivered, ripening like a plum. She couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Mr. Ghost. I, I…”

“I told you I’m not a ghost.”

“Then…”

“Guess. Who I am.”

He smiled crookedly. The wind blew and scattered the black hair that had been covering his forehead. As his dark, straight eyebrows were revealed, her heart beat even faster. Suddenly, her gaze fell on his long, white fingers.

Unbelievably, blue heat was rising from them. Not like smoke rising when burning wood, but a blue and vivid gas that repeatedly curved like waves, flowing between his fingers.

“Then are you a wizard prince?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you a wizard prince? I, I saw it in Miss Pa, Pamela’s book…”

Jeanne asked with her eyes wide open. He raised one eyebrow.

He had expected her to cry and scream, falling and stumbling repeatedly, but she was more composed than he thought. No, should he say she was nonchalant? Is it because she’s a child? No, not all children are like the girl before him.

He stroked his chin, recalling what had happened earlier in the day.

The boy who had fallen backwards trembling at mere object manipulation was also eight years old, the same age as Jeanne. Moreover, he had entered the palace as a page and had been repeatedly educated about what ‘Adam’ was. Yet when he actually faced his power, didn’t he panic and run away? So this should be considered an individual difference.

“My bride is certainly different.”

He leapt down from the windowsill. Only then did Jeanne flinch and look frightened. Cesare found even that cute and cupped the cheeks of the girl who had ripened like a baby plum, lightly kissing her forehead.

***

Jeanne’s father was Margrave Spetunia of Valetona and a landowner who owned part of Gont, one of the great plains of Riscarlo. He was also a knight of the Crusader Order.

At the age of fifteen, he became a squire of Marquis Bonaparte and joined the army. Three years later, he was selected as an apprentice knight and achieved military exploits that even enemy generals would admire.

The young man who returned as a hero was praised by the people and called the Empire’s best sword by the Emperor. And a knight with culture and knowledge was always a source of pride anywhere. One who could rightfully be a model for the nation’s foundation.

Maximilian V placed this excellent young man by his son’s side. Until then, the rather naive Crown Prince Clodas became friends with him, his peer, without any ulterior motives.

One year.

On the day when the country’s long drought was resolved at the end of a long rainy season, an elderly priest visited the imperial palace. He was a priest from the central diocese, called the poor sons of Roham. Moreover, he was a monk of high enough status to seek an audience with the Emperor.