To The Eternal Knight (2 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 10
“Yes… Your Majesty. I shall keep it in mind.”
Moving people was such an easy matter. The Emperor smiled indulgently.
“By the way, your actions in Valeri last week were commendable. I hope the diamond mine I granted you continues to prove useful in easing the turmoil along our borders.”
Though not without issues, offering a small reward to secure the services of someone reasonably useful was not a bad idea. Gabe bowed once more.
After Gabe bowed and withdrew, the Emperor gently pressed his temples. Perhaps because he had just vented his anger, his head throbbed.
He’s a greedy man—this time, he’ll surely deliver properly.
The Emperor gazed through the clear glass. Between the well-tended gardens, he could see the carriage of House Esteban speeding away.
Though an unpleasant fellow, the Emperor trusted Gabe.
More precisely, he trusted Gabe’s audacious greed—the very greed that had driven him to abandon his wife and child in pursuit of power.
After all, that greed was the same force that had propelled the Emperor onto his opulent throne.
For a moment, a chilling smirk flickered across the Emperor’s lips. He slowly raised his head.
Above the clear glass pane arched a stained-glass window. Illuminated brilliantly by sunlight, it depicted a golden-haired, blue-eyed man placing the imperial crown upon his own head.
The golden hair and blue eyes symbolizing the Castarti imperial bloodline. The Emperor slowly swept a hand through his own hair.
The strands slipping through his fingers were deep brown.
The Emperor burst into hearty laughter.
That he could now openly reveal his true, unaltered hair—once concealed by dye—was, without a doubt, proof of his majestic imperial authority!
It had been just over seventy years into the Hundred-Year War. All legitimate heirs had perished, leaving only someone at the very fringes of the lineage to ascend as Emperor.
“Philip Kazef Castarti! Majestic Emperor of Castarti!”
It had been an unusually cold winter day—the day that remained vivid even with his eyes closed. On that day, he resolved to marry a new noble daughter from a powerful house to secure his power.
“My son from my previous marriage troubles me; it’s hard to fully commit to your side. Even if Your Imperial Majesty bears a prince, wouldn’t power risk being divided?”
If abandoning one’s wife and child could secure the throne, who wouldn’t make the same choice? Thus, the Emperor first married the noble daughter through proper legal channels, dismissing his former wife’s protests with a mere notification.
“Don’t you want to raise our son more nobly? How long will you let him remain merely a country noble?”
Though memories of those honeyed lies surfaced, the Emperor shook his head.
Though the nightmares of his former wife had long ceased to haunt him, the hollow unease in his chest whenever he thought of her persisted.
“…If only I could find and destroy that oath, I wouldn’t feel so uneasy.”
He knew even as he spoke the words on his breath that it was impossible, yet he couldn’t suppress his regret.
After all, the Emperor was always busy. Becoming a true sovereign—not a mere puppet—had been an arduous journey.
Then, thirteen years ago.
“I am now Count Esteban.”
Watching the greedy Gabe Esteban refer to himself as Count, the Emperor vaguely sensed the time had come.
And his intuition proved correct. As soon as rumors spread—however faintly—that the Emperor was scrutinizing House Esteban, Acting Count Esteban presented an intriguing proposal.
It was nothing less than “ending the Hundred-Year War with Gauwe.”
“Your Imperial Majesty. Nerea Esteban is both my daughter and the daughter of the late Countess Lilian Esteban. Though her knightly training remains insufficient, she wishes for an opportunity to demonstrate clearly that Castarti’s shield serves solely as Your Majesty’s shield. Please grant Nerea Esteban permission to join the war!”
Gabe’s move was transparent, yet the Emperor was quite satisfied. Whether Nerea Esteban lived or died mattered not to him—if her knightly training was indeed lacking.
What mattered to the Emperor was that Gabe’s offered pretext and generous donation allowed the Emperor to present himself as actively striving for victory and the people’s welfare.
Gabe Esteban’s insatiable ambition was obvious—his desire to swallow up the entire noble house in this opportunity was evident—but the Emperor didn’t care. After all, even an emperor needed a dog.
But an unexpected variable emerged. After Nerea Esteban’s entry into the war, the century-long conflict swiftly turned decisively in their favor.
As the Hundred-Year War neared its end, it was not the Emperor but Nerea Esteban who gained popularity. Still, the Emperor bided his time—useful pieces were never in excess.
In truth, had she not drawn so much public attention, he might have chosen Brienna as Crown Princess instead.
The Emperor clicked his tongue and recalled the victory parade ten years prior.
At its forefront marched the red-haired knight in black armor, spine perfectly straight.
Though clearly neglected from constant campaigning, her pretty face, flowing crimson hair, and considerable height—combined with that strangely languid, almost dreamy demeanor and vacant, watery eyes—made for a curious mix that captivated the common folk: Nerea Esteban.
The Emperor shook his head, then curled the corner of his lips.
Popularity that surpassed imperial authority was unnecessary.
That was precisely why Nerea Esteban had to disappear.
Imperial authority had grown stronger, and the Crown Prince born from his union with the formerly noble-aligned Empress could now unite both imperial and noble factions—thus restoring legitimacy.
It didn’t matter who, or for what reason, sought to bring Nerea Esteban back into the light.
If she hindered his era of glory, she simply had to be eliminated. The Emperor slowly nodded, his expression shifting from satisfaction to cold resolve.
To accomplish that, he needed “that man”—more precisely, the man’s immense wealth and the trading company’s intelligence network capable of locating the “oath.”
He tugged the bell rope. The Chief Steward entered immediately.
“Send orders for that lawless man to enter the palace.”
“Lawless man”—at those words, the Chief Steward bowed and replied.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I shall issue the summons to Count Alejandro Rosa at once.”
[This is the timeline separator]“How deeply you must have grieved, my lady. You must have suffered alone with such heavy worries.”
The warm consolation soothed her sorrow. As tension melted away like snow, Countess of Norberry finally covered her face with the handkerchief she’d been clutching.
Yet her companion neither seemed flustered nor spoke hastily—instead, remained quietly attentive. Just as other noble ladies had described.
“They say it’s not just about receiving ‘that thing’—her comforting words are truly exceptional.”
“Precisely. She must have such skills to have survived among the nobility.”
Though half-admiring and half-scoffing, to the Countess of Norberry, these were the very words she longed to hear—making her companion seem like a true benefactor.
“My grandmother adored me dearly… But seeing her condition worsen day by day, growing weaker and weaker—it fills me with unbearable guilt just watching helplessly…”
It violated the social code of never revealing vulnerability, yet the Countess of Norberry gazed earnestly at the person before her.
“So, shamelessly disregarding propriety, I came rushing to you, my lady—you even visited my grandmother when she was ill.”
The Countess of Norberry recalled that day clearly: her ailing grandmother’s bedside, where her companion had assisted with administering medicine with far greater skill than any professional nurse and meticulously checked the room’s conditions.
Even her grandmother’s weary face had seemed slightly brighter that day.
Thus, the Countess of Norberry clasped her companion’s hand pleadingly.
“Countess Esteban, they say your noble character brings aid to so many. I know it’s shameless, but please—help me just once. Sell me that miraculous medicine.”
Countess Helen Esteban. Those who had always referred to her as “Acting Countess” now addressed her respectfully as “Countess.”
A thrill of vindictive joy ran down Helen’s spine. She paused, feigning difficulty, and fell silent for a moment. The Countess of Norberry waited anxiously, her face tense with anticipation.
Even the proudest high noble grew vulnerable before a loved one’s illness—and to such people, Helen was no less than a goddess.
When Helen finally gave a nod, a waiting maid approached. The Countess of Norberry, embarrassed by her tear-streaked face, turned away—but her eyes snapped open at the sight of the vial the maid brought.
“Is—is that the medicine?”
The liquid inside shimmered like clear water. As the Countess of Norberry reached out as if entranced, Helen spoke.
“But, my lady…”
“Yes…!”
“I feel rather hurt.”
“Eh? What do you mean…?”
In an instant, Helen hid the vial in her hand. Seeing the Countess of Norberry’s devastated expression, Helen smiled softly.
“I believed our friendship was steadfast—yet the moment unsavory rumors touched my husband, you severed all contact.”
“But that—well…”
Helen’s wounded expression made the Countess of Norberry’s eyes waver.
After all, rumors were rampant that the Emperor’s fury, sparked by Le Souer’s painting, had fallen squarely on Acting Count Esteban—who would dare visit House Esteban then?
But now, the Countess of Norberry was in no position but to beg.
Helen seized the moment perfectly. As she spun the vial on her palm, the Countess of Norberry leaned closer and closer toward her.
“Yet I still believe our friendship can be restored. I even prepared this medicine in advance, waiting for the day you’d return to me.”
Helen grasped her hand and whispered gently into her ear.
“Will my sincerity be repaid with your friendship once more?”
“O-of course.”
Only after receiving that assurance did Helen smile faintly and hand over the vial. Then she recited the instructions.
“As you know, this medicine must be taken only by the patient—it was specifically tailored to your grandmother’s condition that day. If someone else…”
Suddenly, commotion erupted outside.
“…My lord has arrived, and he’s terribly… angry…”
At the same moment as those words—suggesting chaos within the mansion—an attendant hurried in, seeking permission.
“I’m so sorry—something urgent has come up at the estate. I’m afraid I won’t be able to see you out.”
Helen forced her stiffening expression into composure as she addressed the Countess of Norberry. The Countess, however, thanked her graciously and bowed respectfully.
Thus, Helen—uncharacteristically—did not finish delivering the medicine’s full instructions.
She didn’t even repeat the warnings multiple times, as she always did, about the horrific side effects should the instructions be ignored.
So perhaps it was only natural that the Countess of Norberry’s mind soon let Helen’s caution evaporate entirely.
But it was neither natural nor ordinary—rather a peculiar and tragic twist of fate—that just as she returned home, her usually healthy Viscount of Norberry happened to suffer a minor injury, prompting the Countess, ever overprotective of her son, to administer a very large dose of that transparent medicine.
[This is the timeline separator]
“You’ve arrived, my lord.”
“Johann! Where is Johann Zenax?”
The Acting Count’s sharp voice cut through the air as soon as the front door opened. The butler and maids who had been approaching Gabe in alarm froze in place.
His brown eyes bloodshot, he spotted Johann Zenax walking toward him. Gabe charged at Johann with ominous intensity and swung his arm widely.
Thud.
At the dull, grating sound, a maid unconsciously covered her mouth.
Johann lowered his head calmly, his black hair swaying along his jawline. His voice was unnervingly composed—as if one couldn’t possibly believe he’d just been struck—save for the reddening on his cheek.
“Welcome back, my lord.”
Ex-husband Wants Reconciliation
One-line summary: Chasing the wife to the crematorium (making an effort to attract someone who has become indifferent), the female lead doesn’t look back, the second male lead takes the position.
Intro:
To repay the kindness of the older generation, Su Mu crossed into a female-dominated world and became a live-in daughter-in-law of the Yan family, single-handedly saving the Yan family from fire and water.
But her husband, Yan Jiyue, the eldest son of the Yan family, treated her with sarcasm and never showed her a good face.
It wasn’t until after Su Mu’s death that this pampered and arrogant young master shed a few fake tears and pretended to want to die for love.
This life’s kindness was enough. If there was a next life, she would definitely kick Yan Jiyue away.
Who knew that the heavens would be so kind as to allow her to be reborn, returning to the time when she had just married into the Yan family.
Su Mu glanced at the Yan eldest son, who still spoke coldly to her, and threw a divorce letter in front of him.
“Let’s divorce!”
***
Yan Jiyue never imagined that he would be reborn. He happily went to find Su Mu, wanting to make up for the mistakes he had made in his ignorant youth.
Wasn’t the reason the heavens allowed him to be reborn to let him reconcile with Su Mu?
But when he pushed open the door to Su Mu’s room, the person lying on the bed was another man.
Su Mu’s personal attendant, Xie Yi.
Yan Jiyue hated him so much that his teeth itched. In front of Su Mu, Xie Yi was a gentle and considerate whisperer of sweet nothings, but in reality, he was vicious-hearted and deliberately sabotaged their husband and wife relationship.
In the previous life, it was he who secretly hid in Su Mu’s coffin and committed suicide, stealing a step ahead of him to be buried with Su Mu.
Yan Jiyue’s eyes were filled with hatred as he cursed, “What kind of thing are you? Your background is lowly, what right do you have to occupy Su Mu?”
Xie Yi looked at the sleeping Su Mu and no longer pretended to be a whisperer of sweet nothings.
He proudly stuck out his belly, “I have the right because my belly is capable of giving the Wife-master a daughter.”
***
Yan Jiyue was consumed with jealousy. He spread rumors that Xie Yi had once been branded with the mark of a “harlot” on his chest.
But on the night Xie Yi cut off the flesh bearing that mark, Su Mu suddenly realized something was amiss.
“How did you know the exact moment I was poisoned? And why did you show up a month early?”
Xie Yi remained silent, blood from his wound soaking through his robes. His sapphire eyes brimmed with anguish – or was it just a flawless act?
Between a once-arrogant husband now seeking redemption, and a gentle soul willing to die for her – who truly held the darkest secrets? And could it be that Su Mu and Yan Jiyue weren’t the only ones given a second chance at life…?
[Reading Guide]
1. True divorce, chasing the wife to the crematorium, the female lead doesn’t look back, the male lead is Xie Yi.
2. The ex-husband did not cheat, he just realized too late and didn’t realize that he liked the female lead.
_____
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