There was no time to think. Emil screamed, stopping two passing carriages. The first carriage carried his unconscious servant straight to the infirmary. Sounds around him blurred, leaving only a ringing in his ears that throbbed in his head. The driver, seeing Emil’s dazed expression, cautiously bowed his head and asked,

“Sir, are you all right?”

Emil staggered, clutching the driver’s collar. The driver, startled at being grabbed by what seemed to be a court nobleman, flailed his arms in shock. Realizing that Emil’s gaze wasn’t even focused on him, the driver gulped nervously.

“My lord! It’s dangerous here!”

“…To Rue Le Mans.”

“Sorry, sir?”

Emil’s voice burst out.

“To Rue Le Mans… Drive this damned carriage there, now!”

He was half out of his mind. Onlookers began murmuring amongst themselves. The driver, sweating profusely, tried to calm him down, seeing no choice but to comply with the demands of his frantic customer. He quickly opened the carriage door.

“Please, my lord, get in. And, um, the fare…”

Hoping to avoid trouble later, the driver extended his hand for payment upfront. Emil dug into his pocket, thrusting every coin he could find into the driver’s hand. The driver, wide-eyed, stashed the money quickly, jumped onto the driver’s seat, and cracked the reins.

“Right away, my lord!”

Emil’s vision swayed as the carriage rattled forward, speeding through the city streets. He leaned out the window, his heart pounding, watching as people either ran or stared toward the direction they were headed.

Please, please, don’t let it be true.

Emil clenched his teeth, filled with dread as he wished he could somehow reach the place faster. His wife would likely be attending a social gathering of noblewomen at this hour, away from home. The servants, the children…

The carriage turned a corner and entered a wide street. Emil saw thick, black smoke rising in the distance. The commotion around them grew louder. Emil stared at the dark plume against the blue sky with lifeless eyes.

“My lord! It seems there’s a fire on Rue Le Mans…”

“Drive faster.”

The chilling command made the driver fall silent as he urged the carriage to speed up. Closer. The screams, the crackling of collapsing wood. As they reached the entrance of Rue Le Mans, Emil shouted at the driver to stop. The driver, face pale with fear, brought the carriage to a halt, realizing that the burning house belonged to his passenger.

The carriage barely came to a stop before Emil leapt out and sprinted toward the manor. People gathered around, some watching, others frantically trying to put out the flames.

“…Ruel, Jean, Marion.”

Mumbling his children’s names, Emil reached the manor’s entrance, only to be stopped by soldiers fighting the blaze as he attempted to stumble into the inferno like a madman.

“Let go! My children are in there…!”

“Please calm down, Baron Borden! Your household staff managed to escape with the children!”

Emil, struggling against the soldiers, finally heard them. His once-tidy hair was now a mess, and he seized one of the soldiers by the collar, questioning him with wide, desperate eyes. The soldier nodded repeatedly as he answered.

“They’re safe… they made it out?”

“Yes, the children were all taken to the hospital.”

“No injuries? Are they all right?”

“Your two sons are unharmed, but your youngest daughter…”

For the second time, Emil’s heart sank. The soldier trailed off, and Emil didn’t press further about Marion’s condition.

“Which hospital?”

“The one two districts over. They’re—”

Before the soldier could finish, Emil sprinted off to hail another carriage. The soldiers looked after him, shaking their heads.

“He’s a court noble, right? Poor fellow… his house going up in flames like that.”

“Had he been told his youngest’s condition, I doubt he’d be sane right now.”

The soldier, brushing his collar, watched Emil hail another carriage with a look of pity, shaking his head.

“Can’t even imagine what he’s feeling right now.”

“Let’s go help with the fire.”

Emil barely endured the slow pace of the carriage as it sped through the streets. He continued urging the driver, who, fearing Emil’s unhinged demeanor, dared not complain but only spurred the horse faster, sensing it was best to get him there quickly.

“My lord, we’ve arrived…”

Before the driver could finish, Emil threw open the door and leapt out. The hospital, bustling with activity, was right in front of him.

“Out of my way!”

Emil pushed his way through the crowd, making it to the reception desk. The nurse flinched, startled by his wild appearance.

“What’s… what is it, sir?”

“My children. Did they bring in children from a fire…?”

Emil asked breathlessly, and the nurse, trembling, pointed to the staircase.

“They’re… in room 302 on the third floor.”

Emil bolted up the stairs, repeating a prayer in his mind.

Please be safe. Please, just be alive.

Reaching the third floor, Emil swung open the door to the hospital room. And he froze at the sight of an unexpected figure seated in a chair beside the bed.

“You’re late.”

How… how was this person here? Emil’s expression turned to ice as he met the gaze of Leon Bening, who was seated beside Marion, wrapped in bandages and unconscious. The count gave a faint, amused smile, his fingers brushing Marion’s hair. Emil’s voice trembled with anger.

“…Why are you here, my lord?”

“Disappointing, Emil. I came all this way to check on your children, and you don’t even have the decency to thank me.”

Emil’s face didn’t soften. His gaze, sharp with hostility, fixed on the count’s hand as it brushed his daughter’s hair.

“Take your hand off her.”

“Your daughter is truly unfortunate. I’ve rarely seen a child with such promise.”

Marion lay unconscious, her body swathed in bandages, giving no sign of life. Emil took a step forward. Leon Bening continued to watch him with an empty gaze.

“Emil, you promised to cooperate fully with me, and I upheld my end of the deal, helping you secure a position within the royal court. Yet you chose to ignore my request, breaking that promise. It’s… disappointing.”

Emil looked down at the count, as though staring into the abyss itself. Leon’s eyes were cold and devoid of feeling. Emil’s hand shook as he reached toward him, but the count caught it firmly.

“Your daughter will be a sensation, Emil. Once she debuts in high society, she’ll be the center of attention for years, perhaps even decades. My daughter can’t command that kind of influence. She’s more of a knight than a noblewoman, lacking the presence in court that your daughter’s beauty could bring.”

Leon’s grip tightened painfully, and Emil growled in rage. To see the man responsible for his home’s destruction so shamelessly claim his work filled him with disgust.

“My lord…!”

“But sadly, I still need you, Emil. No other court noble matches your intelligence. And like it or not, you’ll find you need me too.”

Leon Bening released Emil’s hand and stood up.

“I have no desire to use other means, Emil. Consider this my final warning. Your daughter… is of no further use to me.”

“Enough of this nonsense.”

“Emil, I admire your courage, but I’m not the only one who’s angry. I’ve made it clear—this is your last warning.”

Leon’s gaze dropped to Marion.

“Forget any ideas of treating her. Keep her out of high society, and don’t parade her around. I understand that you love her, but acting on that sentiment would only…”

He left the threat hanging. The room grew colder as Leon’s aura of deadly intent filled the space, leaving Emil with no choice but to endure it.

“Though I’m disappointed in you, Emil, I still need you. Persuasion isn’t my strength, but I’m very capable of making others listen.”

Leon took a few steps closer.

“If you care for anything in this world, Emil, be wise. I’ll be watching.”

With that, he called a servant into the room.

“It’s unfortunate you lost your home to the fire, Emil. I’ll prepare a new residence for you in the capital, along with some attendants. Consider it my way of lending a hand.”

Leon left the room, closing the door behind him. Emil clenched his teeth, looking down at his daughter. The servant left behind stared down at him coldly.

“I’m sorry…”

Kneeling beside Marion’s bed, Emil ignored the servant’s watchful gaze and whispered, seeking forgiveness from his unconscious daughter.

“…for being such a failure of a father.”

Making sure Leon Bening couldn’t hear, he grit his teeth and let his tears fall, unable to fathom how much suffering lay ahead for his child.

Marion woke three days later. By then, Emil Borden had become a monster who betrayed his own daughter. Forced to walk a razor’s edge under Leon Bening’s eye, he could only care for his daughter in secret.

Seeing her look lifelessly out the window killed something in him each time. Every cold word he said to her, every time she blamed herself instead of him for his distant treatment, stripped away pieces of his heart.

His wife, despite the risks, quietly tended to their daughter. She hired tutors and looked the other way when Marion spent time in the garden. The servants Leon sent reported her activities to Emil, but he only nodded as though agreeing to keep Marion in check.

The count rarely visited him anymore. Instead, he began keeping Emil as his near-constant right hand. Marion’s name wasn’t brought up again until eight years later.

“An engagement… you say?”

Perhaps because he’d been indoctrinated as the count’s “dog” for so long, Emil felt a strange, unfamiliar anger stirring as Leon Bening mentioned his daughter.

“I told you not to bring her into society, but it’s no longer feasible to keep her hidden. I’ve found a suitable match; perhaps she should meet him.”

Ever cautious, Leon took Emil to an academy training knights. Emil was introduced to Maxime Apart—a man who seemed to be in a similar position, burdened with obligations, lacking power, and devoid of hope.

At least he wasn’t some greedy noble. Emil couldn’t say he approved of Maxime as a suitor for Marion, but the boy was neither in love with her nor powerful enough to protect her. Let alone capable of offering her freedom; he was shackled to Bening just as tightly as Emil himself.

Yet Marion seemed happy with Maxime. Emil, who had no right to feel otherwise, found himself begrudgingly resentful.

“If you’re my ‘future son-in-law,’ shouldn’t you address me properly?”

Truthfully, he didn’t like being called “father-in-law” by someone like Maxime, though he knew the boy wasn’t eager to use the title either.

“A word of warning not to cause any unnecessary trouble.”

It was advice Emil didn’t need to give; acting on emotions would only bring ruin to the young knight.

Even without Leon’s orders, Emil couldn’t bring himself to treat Maxime warmly. Yet a small part of him hoped Maxime might free Marion, no matter how slim that hope was.

When the engagement was over and Baron Apart asked if he could take Marion east, Emil had to hide his joy, feigning reluctance. Thus, his daughter became partially free, showing a liveliness far beyond what she displayed under his roof.

“…Marion’s returned?”

Hearing this news from a servant watching the First Princess, Emil couldn’t believe it. He thought his daughter would stay away from the bloodshed in the capital, yet here she was, working with the First Princess and the Marquis’s people.

Did she really love that fool Maxime so much? That fool who threw his life away out of stubborn pride?

Perhaps for Maxime Apart’s sake, she stood defiantly against the count.

Emil wanted to tell her it was dangerous. Leon Bening seemed unconcerned about Marion, but who knew when his shadow might fall upon the First Princess and Marion?

Keeping his distance, Emil watched his daughter walking with the First Princess. He couldn’t approach her, couldn’t apologize, and couldn’t ask her to stop.

He was being tested—whether he’d remain the count’s pawn. There was only one thing he could do for her.

A week after Marion’s return, Emil slipped a sleeping draught to the spies posing as his servants. Under the cover of night, he sought an audience with the king, crushed by the pressure from the Head of the Royal Guard. Finally, after nine years, he declared his vengeance. After proving his loyalty, the king accepted his aid.

“I will be Your Majesty’s eyes and ears.”

In return for his betrayal, Emil was granted safety for his wife and children, along with medical care for Marion. His safety was not part of the agreement.

That would have to be enough.

Emil opened his eyes, finding himself alone in the silent hall. Arsen Bern—no, Maxime Apart. Emil repeated the truth he dared not speak aloud.

Could that knight win? Could he bring salvation to his daughter and deliver justice to the count?

Emil gazed toward the spot where Arsen Bern had disappeared and muttered into the air, sounding almost irritated.

“When given a chance, make it count, son-in-law.”

Emil’s sigh lingered in the empty air. He hadn’t noticed he’d called Maxime “son-in-law” without realizing it.