DLYTL 18

Chapter – 18

“Psyche.”

Once again, his voice struck her ears with crystal clarity.

Despite his face being almost identical to Warren’s, Psyche immediately recognized that it was Ikali.

Seeing her husband’s face, she strangely felt all her tension melt away.

But why was Ikali here in the salon?

“…Princess, or rather, Psyche.”

She noticed the confusion in Ikali’s blue eyes. He was panting like a frightened animal.

Had Ikali, whom she met as an adult, ever looked this disoriented before?

Trying to maintain her composure, she too was unsettled at the sight of Ikali’s pale, terrified face.

“Ikali?”

“……”

“Why are you here…? You said you wouldn’t come.”

Pale as a sheet, Ikali cautiously extended his trembling hand toward her.

It was as if he had seen a dead person, as if it were not Psyche who had nearly been harmed, but himself.

Had he rushed over in a panic?

Psyche noticed his neatly combed black hair was disheveled.

His sculpted face, beautiful as a statue, was drenched in cold sweat, terrified.

His long fingers moved closer. Hands hardened and scarred from years of swordsmanship.

“That bastard… touched you again… tried to…”

His words were choked off by his trembling breath.

Psyche stared at her husband, hypnotized by the great fear pressing upon him.

The scars covering the backs of his hands—were they from mere training, or the cruelty of his foster parents?

His hands approached as if to envelop her at any moment.

Then he suddenly stopped. The surrounding noise was the cause.

“What on earth is going on!”

At that moment, the nobles exiting the mansion screamed.

On the floor, Warren struggled with his immobile legs, crying out loudly:

“Help me! Someone, please help me up!”

Chaos erupted around them. Psyche could finally move freely.

“What are you doing, Duke Demiosis!”

It was Fulium, the head of the house.

The nobles who had followed him to the garden looked at Ikali in shock.

But knowing Ikali’s reputation, they dared not approach.

Warren, lying face down, clicked his tongue in frustration.

“What are you all doing! Hurry and help me up… ugh.”

“Your Grace!”

“Oh my!”

Before Warren could finish speaking, Ikali grabbed him by the collar and dragged him up from the ground.

Warren choked and coughed, the air knocked out of him.

“What were you scheming against Psyche?”

Anger flickered in his clear blue eyes. He looked like he could punch Warren in the face at any moment.

Meanwhile, the more violent Ikali became, the more a smile crept onto Warren’s face.

“Scheming, you say, Ikali… I know you’ve always felt inferior to me, but isn’t this going a bit too far? Afraid I’ll take your wife?”

“Stop pretending in front of everyone. Speak your true intentions.”

“……”

“So you want to disable my legs and arms as well, huh?”

“Oh, scary.”

Warren laughed, out of breath, his face flushed bright red.

The onlookers were frozen, unsure how to intervene between the two.

Warren glanced at the frightened nobles and flashed a sinister smile.

“Planning to ruin your reputation in front of the nobles, Ikali? Is being called a monster not enough?”

“Shut up.”

“Of course, someone like you wouldn’t care about that… but now that you’re a duke, you should care. After all, you worked hard to gain that title.”

Warren continued to rant.

“You’ve always been the same. Vulgar, reckless, and always wanting what isn’t yours. That’s why you’re punished. For coveting what belonged to others. For taking my place.”

“……”

“Does a lowly orphan like you even deserve the title of duke? How can a vulgar person who slashed his foster father’s throat marry a princess? And you messed up my legs like this!”

Warren roared like a beast, consumed by rage.

Psyche narrowed her brows and stared at him.

Seeing the situation, Fulium stepped forward toward the two.

“You can either end your life here and prove to that woman you are a murderer, or, if you don’t have the guts, leave now, you vulgar scum.”

Listening to this, Ikali threw Warren onto the ground with a single move.

Warren rolled on the floor, gasping. Fulium, who had rushed over, helped him.

Ikali turned his back, still seeming angered.

“Wait, Ikali…”

Psyche instinctively tried to hold him back.

But he didn’t look back, and hurriedly left the glass garden with precarious steps.

The brief glimpse of his pale face remained etched in her mind.

Perhaps it really was better not to expect love.

May, covered in greenery, had arrived.

In the three gardens of the duke’s estate, green leaves and blooming flower buds signaled the season.

But Ikali found this scenery tiresome.

Every May, Warren held lavish parties daily.

As if to enjoy everything he missed during his disappearance after the accident, he seemed incapable of spending a day without a grand party.

When members of high society rushed through the estate, Ikali retreated to a corner of the training ground.

Warren would be busy preparing the party and entertaining guests. If Ikali appeared in front of him unnecessarily, who knew what punishment he might face.

At twenty-four, he no longer feared his father’s corporal punishment.

All he had to do was stand with his hands behind his back, endure the duke’s fists, and wait for time to pass.

Worse than the punishment itself was the sudden shift in the couple’s attitude.

More precisely, the fall from “useful son” to “useless troublemaker” tormented him.

“Your son’s mood was unsettled by that brat again, I hear.”

At times like this, Ikali mentally retorted:

“I was once your son, you know.”

The duke and his wife no longer treated Ikali as their son. From beginning to end, they always had only one child.

Ikali had merely occupied that place temporarily, and then had to relinquish it.

Yes, unreciprocated love truly was love in vain. Now he finally understood…

At least, if the punishment was by fists and not whips, he could endure it.

Whips left scars no matter how hard one tried to endure.

Ikali had been unbearably embarrassed and ashamed when Psyche discovered his injuries.

“What on earth happened between you two?”

Her voice echoed in his ears again.

Frowning in darkness, Ikali thought of Psyche and shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

Today’s visitors to Duke Demiosis’ estate were not mere socialites.

Ikali looked up at the ivory mansion, exuding majesty.

Perhaps she was wandering somewhere inside.

“Psyche.”

Warren Demiosis formally requested Psyche’s hand in marriage when she turned nineteen.

The Doson Kingdom, mired in debt from reckless state projects, accepted the proposal without hesitation.

Thunk!

Ikali bit his teeth and struck the wooden plank in front of him.

If hitting it could vent his anger, he wished he could keep hitting it until all his fingers broke.

Warren returned to the estate convinced that Ikali had maliciously taken his place.

The room Ikali used, his servants, his martial arts teachers, even his parents’ love—Warren felt all of it was stolen.

And now, he had noticed who Ikali’s gaze was fixed on.

But what could he do?

All Ikali was allowed was the freedom to use the training ground.

“Yes, perhaps it’s better for that brat to marry the next duke than remain a lonely orphan.”

Ikali couldn’t help but think of his princess.

Her warm brown eyes were sweeter than chocolate.

Her flowing hair carried a pleasant fragrance.

When he was exhausted from trying to live up to his foster parents’ expectations, Psyche’s presence washed away his fatigue.

She had always been a princess who wanted all his attention.

Her smile curved like a half-moon—was it still the same?

“She doesn’t send letters anymore.”

On rare international occasions, he could see Psyche from afar once or twice a year.

At first, he never saw her as a woman.

She was just like a younger sister he cared for.

Unlike his parents, who only looked at him after hours of training and studying, Psyche always looked at him for no reason at all.

The little princess with round cheeks who waddled around had grown into a proper lady.

Somewhere along the way, whenever Psyche smiled surrounded by other noble young men, his heart ached.

Always at her side, he now felt permanently expelled from her orbit.

The gap between an orphan and a princess was immense.

At that moment, he felt both inferiority and love toward her.

He couldn’t bear to feel so weak and unattractive.

Someone he once treated like a younger sister was now unreachable and desirable as a woman.

Ikali bit his lips, his face dark.

This visit from Psyche was meant for preparations for next month’s wedding.

The reason she was invited to the imperial estate was obvious.

To make him feel powerless.

Warren Demiosis was eager to humiliate Ikali in every way possible.

“I miss her.”

Her peach-colored cheeks that blushed under his gaze, her pale face, the long hair flowing softly below her waist, her sweet scent—he missed everything.