Chapter 79 – The Memory of That Day

The trial was hastily concluded, and the Senate was now deliberating Rosemary’s punishment.

Edelweiss waited for the outcome from within the Calliope Palace.

At the same time, she sat watching as Damian received treatment from the imperial physician, her emotions tangled.

Rosemary had aimed directly for her belly.

If not for Damian, she might have lost the child, which was already in a precarious state.

She was grateful—yet couldn’t understand it.

Why did he always save her?

She was about to open her mouth to thank him—

—when the head of the Senate arrived at Calliope Palace.

“We greet Your Highnesses.”

The chairman bowed respectfully to both Edelweiss and Damian, then wasted no time sharing the outcome.

“There was strong consensus that attempting to assassinate Her Highness, and stabbing His Highness Damian in the process, constitutes a grave crime. Her Majesty Roxanne also fiercely protested that a life sentence would be far too lenient.”

“…I see.”

“Thus, Rosemary Widen shall be executed tomorrow at noon, in Ruathe Square.”

Execution.

She would be brought before the public and placed on the guillotine.

…So this is how it ends.

Bang!

Just as the meeting concluded, the doors of Calliope Palace burst open violently.

“Your Grace! You mustn’t do this!”

The guards stationed outside struggled to restrain Duke Stern, who pushed forward in resistance.

His breath came in ragged gasps. Cold sweat covered his pale face. His eyes burned with panic.

He must have come after hearing that Rosemary is to be executed.

Edelweiss immediately guessed why the Duke of Stern had come.

She gestured toward the steward and the knights.

“Edelweiss… please show mercy to that child, to Rosemary.”

Understanding her signal, the steward and knights left. The Duke of Stern pleaded desperately.

“I know what she did to you was terrible. I do. But Rosemary has already lost everything. Even I didn’t help her… She’s still young. Execution is, execution is—”

He stammered, unable to form coherent thoughts, clearly driven only by his desire to save Rosemary.

‘He stayed silent during the trial because he expected a life sentence, not because she was the daughter of Count Sandor.’

It was bitter. After learning Rosemary wasn’t his biological daughter, when she reached out for help, he ignored her out of the betrayal of having been deceived for years.

Even though he had witnessed everything in court—the moment Rosemary drew a glass shard and attacked Edelweiss.

Yet now he begged for her life.

It must mean the Duke truly loved Rosemary.

“…I suppose the bond from raising a child really is terrifying. Even when that child tries to kill their own sister, you still beg for mercy.”

“…”

“If I had tried to kill Rosemary, you wouldn’t be here begging for forgiveness like this.”

Edelweiss, who had never received that kind of love, felt both envy and emptiness.

“Duke Stern.”

Damian, who had been watching the duke with a cold gaze, interrupted.

“Did you know that Her Grace is currently pregnant?”

“…What?”

“If I hadn’t stopped it, it’s not just the child—her life would’ve been in danger too. Her body has already been weakened by what happened last time.”

Blood vessels rose in Duke Stern’s eyes.

“The palace physician said this—Rosemary Widen knew that Her Grace was pregnant. She targeted her stomach deliberately.”

“…”

“Unless you’re ready to take her place on the guillotine, you’d best stop and go home.”

Just then—

A green butterfly fluttered across the duke’s field of vision.

…It wasn’t summoned. Why?

That had never happened before. Until now, the butterfly had never acted on its own.

And then—

The ground beneath them collapsed, and Edelweiss’s vision twisted.

The space around them shifted into Duke Stern’s office. Edelweiss was flooded with his memories.

‘…This is.’

That day when the rain poured down endlessly—the day she had died.

***

Mateo Stern was working as usual when he saw the sudden downpour through the window.

Naturally, he thought of Edelweiss, whose leg pain worsened in the rain.

‘…Should I visit her?’

He had recently heard she’d become quite sensitive after being diagnosed with infertility.

‘No.’

He abandoned the thought, not wanting to stir anything up.

“!”

Servants outside suddenly screamed and ran about in panic.

As the rain intensified, dark clouds spread across the sky. Cracks of thunder echoed.

His heart felt as though it were being squeezed. An unexplainable unease stabbed at him.

Why?

Sensing something was terribly wrong, Duke Stern rushed out into the hallway.

“Hey, you there, what’s happening?”

He grabbed a maid who was running somewhere and asked.

“M-Miss Edelweiss…”

“What about her?”

Impatient at her unfinished reply, he pressed sharply; the maid, on the verge of fainting, managed to part her lips.

“She… has passed away.”

The Duke of Stern heard the sound of his heart dropping.

The world fell silent. His mind stopped.

“She must have fallen from the balcony. She is outside right now—we were about to bring her in.”

“…What did you say…?”

Strength drained from his entire body. Impossible. How could Edelweiss be dead?

A desperate prayer filled his head—that this absurd reality was only a dream.

“That can’t be…”

His lips trembled uncontrollably; his Adam’s apple bobbed heavily. The maid, head lowered, could not speak further.

Boom, boom—something pounded in his ears.

Feeling as if the floor had collapsed, he staggered outside.

He could not stop, even as breath tore painfully from his throat.

When he forced himself forward and saw the sight before him, he froze.

The gathered servants gasped and stepped aside at the Duke’s approach.

“Your Grace…”

“Lady Edelweiss…”

On the rain-soaked flowerbed,

at its center, Edelweiss lay limp. Scarlet blood pooled by her head, her white face deathly pale, eyelids peacefully shut.

Her badly swollen ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle. Her closed lips did not move.

He stepped forward slowly and knelt, gathering the limp body into his arms.

Hands and feet were ice-cold; no breath came. Raindrops fell onto his palms, staining them like tears.

“…A letter from His Highness the Crown Prince was found in the young lady’s room. It contained notice of breaking the engagement because of her infertility. Perhaps… after reading it, she took the extreme step of jumping…”

His ears rang blankly. Even breathing was hard.

“…”

The maid’s words stabbed his heart.

For that wretched position of crown princess… You, the legitimate daughter of Stern.

Even if you were infertile, there were plenty of houses that would have wanted the Duke’s legitimate daughter.

He had planned to find her a match at the right time.

“…My child.”

“…”

Edelweiss did not open her eyes. He called her countless times, pleading and desperate. He stroked her cheek, begging her to open her eyes, but she did not.

He had not loved her. Because Iris died giving birth to Edelweiss?

No—was it because of Iris’s words, that she hated herself so much she could not bear even the sight of their hard-won daughter?

Whenever he saw Edelweiss, he heard Iris’s resentful voice. So he avoided her and never cherished her.

Searching his memory, he saw only scenes of passing by the small child reaching out to be held, or scolding her not to be spoiled.

Why had he done that? Suddenly he recalled words he’d overheard outside Edelweiss’s room shortly after her betrothal to Adolf.

“If I become crown princess, will Father be proud of me?”

Pride.

Edelweiss had wanted all her life to be his pride.

Looking back, the Duke realized he had never once told Edelweiss he was proud of her.