Side Story 3 – The Weight of the Crown
Three days before the Crown Prince and Princess arrived at the duchy, the imperial palace, which had just hosted the grand spectacle of the royal wedding, was gradually returning to its usual atmosphere.
At least, that’s how it appeared on the surface.
Clang!
The sound of a vase being violently thrown echoed as it shattered against the wall.
The one responsible for the act, the Emperor, sat on the bed, letting out a string of curses.
His enraged gaze turned toward the royal physician bowing before him.
“Say it again… Say it again. What did you say my illness was?”
Under the Emperor’s icy glare, the royal physician broke out in a cold sweat as he repeated his diagnosis.
“Based on the rash, fever, and all other symptoms, it is highly likely that you have contracted syphilis, Your Majesty.”
“You dare to speak such words? Can you take responsibility for them?”
“Of course, Your Majesty. Before diagnosing you, I also examined the consort.”
The Emperor’s fierce gaze wavered.
He knew exactly how syphilis was transmitted.
And the only woman he had been intimate with recently was the consort.
“…While I did not reveal this openly due to the presence of others, the consort also shows mild symptoms of the same illness.”
“You insolent fool!”
The Emperor glared at the royal physician as if he would kill him, but no matter how much he glared, the rash and fever tormenting him showed no signs of subsiding.
‘Me… I, of all people, have syphilis?’
For the supreme ruler of the empire to contract such a disease—no humiliation could be greater.
The Emperor, who had hoped to be remembered as a flawless sovereign in history, found this utterly unbearable.
His furious gaze shifted to the chamberlain standing like a shadow beside the curtains.
“Chamberlain! How could you not know the state of the women entering my chambers?”
“My apologies, Your Majesty… When I last checked the consort’s health, no abnormalities were found…”
Even the chamberlain, who had served the Emperor for many years, could not hide his bewilderment.
The royal physician, wiping his sweat, explained further.
“If it was latent syphilis, there might have been no visible symptoms. Or perhaps the consort…”
“Speak clearly!”
“…It is embarrassing to say this, but the consort may have contracted syphilis from another man.”
Crash!
This time, a water jug was thrown and shattered, cutting off the royal physician’s words.
The Emperor, unable to contain his rage, panted heavily.
“Chamberlain…! Immediately, get rid of all those…”
“Calm yourself, Your Majesty.”
The elderly chamberlain skillfully intervened to pacify the Emperor.
“It would be better to quietly remove the consort, as she has lost your favor. Otherwise, rumors about your condition may spread, Your Majesty.”
“…Ugh, you’re right.”
The Emperor barely managed to swallow his anger at the chamberlain’s calm advice.
As he said, the most important thing was to keep the matter hidden.
“…Physician, answer me. Can my condition be cured?”
“I will do my utmost, but you must take special care and focus on the treatment, Your Majesty.”
“Hmm, handling state affairs in this condition will be difficult…”
The Emperor glared at his palm, where the rash was most severe, and gestured toward the chamberlain.
“Send a courier to summon the Crown Prince. Tell him that I have been overworked from the royal wedding and am bedridden due to exhaustion. I will appoint him to act as regent.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
In truth, it was the Crown Prince, not the Emperor, who had been overburdened with work before and after the wedding. But neither the one giving the order nor the one receiving it seemed to care.
The Emperor’s gaze turned cold again as he looked at the royal physician.
“And as for my condition, only those present in this room must know. If word of this leaks…”
“I understand, Your Majesty.”
The royal physician lowered his head deeply, his face stiff.
‘If he values his life, he won’t dare speak carelessly.’
Having control not only over the royal physician but also his family, the Emperor nodded in satisfaction.
He failed to notice the chamberlain’s dry and detached gaze as he stared at the Emperor’s profile.
***
Later that evening, in the Imperial Library.
Soft voices exchanged words across a large bookshelf, their conversation barely audible.
Occasionally, the sound of pages turning masked their whispers.
Eventually, the sound of a book closing broke the quiet, and the hushed voices ceased.
Moments later, the Emperor’s trusted chamberlain emerged from between the shelves, acting as though nothing had happened.
On the other side of the same bookshelf, Duke Tristan Ruble Raymore returned the book he had been holding to its original place.
‘It has finally begun.’
The revenge he had been postponing for the sake of his master and his one and only younger sister.
His face remained calm as his fingers brushed against the spine of the book, but the rage boiling within him had never subsided—not since the day he learned the truth about his parents’ deaths.
‘How long I’ve waited for the day his guard would drop.’
No one would have imagined that the knight who smiled so politely before his enemy harbored such intense vengeance—not even the Emperor himself.
‘You won’t die, Your Majesty. …But you’ll wish you had.’
From the very beginning, Consort Ailette, back when she was a courtesan, had been secretly supported by Tristan under an alias.
Ambitious and greedy, she did not hesitate to become the Emperor’s consort, and the Emperor fell into the trap Tristan had carefully prepared.
And Servante had allowed it all to happen.
- I’ll repay the debt I owe to you and your parents. Somehow.
Tristan hadn’t believed those words.
Death could only be repaid with death.
But killing the Emperor was impossible.
Even before considering the success of an assassination, Tristan had already pledged his loyalty to the Emperor’s son, the future ruler.
Moreover, his beloved younger sister was in love with the Emperor’s son.
Imagining a future more miserable than his current reality made it impossible to draw his sword.
If he couldn’t, what could the Emperor’s son, Servante, possibly do?
One day, while Tristan was consumed by such thoughts, Servante introduced him to the Emperor’s elderly chamberlain.
- I am a servant of Her Majesty the Empress, prepared to assist the Crown Prince. Though my body is old, I will carry out any task you assign to me.
The chamberlain, who had earned the Emperor’s trust through years of service, was, in fact, a loyal servant of the late Empress, who had harbored a deep grudge against the Emperor for even longer than Tristan.
The Empress had left behind this secret card, hoping it would one day aid her son.
And Servante handed that card to Tristan.
- This is the best I can do.
- …Your Highness.
- Promise me you won’t kill my father. His remaining life is yours.
- …
‘I never thought a truly equal revenge was possible… until now.’
Tristan closed his eyes for a moment before stepping out of the library with a book in hand.
The librarians, accustomed to his frequent visits, greeted him warmly.
“Good day, Duke.”
“Here to borrow another book? Haha.”
Returning their smiles as if nothing was amiss, Tristan walked away.
‘It will be a long revenge, but it won’t be dull.’
Syphilis could be fatal, but with proper treatment, survival was possible.
The royal physician, under the Emperor’s orders, would do his utmost to cure him.
Meanwhile, the chamberlain, under Tristan’s command, would ensure the treatment was sabotaged.
The thought of the Emperor trembling in fear until his dying day, desperately hiding his incurable illness, deepened Tristan’s smile.
Unaware of the circumstances, the librarians shrugged and whispered amongst themselves,
How long has it been since he got married? And yet he’s still so happy.
At the far end of the bookshelf where Tristan had arrived, holding a book, Aisha, the director of the library, raised an eyebrow at her husband’s presence.
“What’s gotten you in such a good mood?”
“You.”
“What about me?”
“I’m just so happy to see you.”
“…Don’t say things like that at someone else’s workplace.”
Aisha shot him a sharp look. Even that slight frown was endearing to him, and this time, Tristan smiled genuinely.
“How about dining out tonight?”
“Out of the blue?”
“I suddenly felt like going on a date with my wife—”
“I said, don’t do this at someone else’s workplace!”
“Hahaha.”
To happiness shared with his beloved and to the misfortune of his hated enemy, a toast.
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