DLYTL 27

Chapter – 27

That name was the disgusting alias the factory owner used to call him.

The vulgar name seemed to rise in his mouth like bile, making him feel nauseous.

Five years ago, the moment the factory owner learned that the slave who had escaped the island was actually the lost son of Demiosis, he fled from Shtaturk.

He was afraid of retaliation.

Surely, he wouldn’t leave him alive.

He would definitely find him and make him pay.

And Warren’s instincts were right.

Not long after Warren returned to the duke’s mansion, the Shtaturk factory—along with all the slaves and managers who had worked there—was found burned to death.

All the windows and doors of the factory had been locked from the outside; everyone had suffocated.

It had been a planned murder.

The local newspaper seemed to treat the incident as an accident, but the factory owner, certain it was Warren’s revenge, lived like a mouse outside the empire.

Life was pure fear and suffering.

For about five years, he managed to live quietly, unnoticed by anyone.

“Hii, hiiik!”

Before he knew it, the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his temple.

He felt like his breath was being stolen by terror. His body trembled uncontrollably at the horrifying sensation.

“Please, spare me… I didn’t even know you were a prince back then…!”

“Shut up.”

The man in the wheelchair muttered lowly.

There was no trace of guilt or remorse in him.

He hadn’t felt even an ounce of remorse when he killed the people he had worked with for over eight years at the factory.

Warren was intent on erasing his past.

The shameful past that clung to his otherwise perfect life—those days of being treated like livestock, handled by the lowly—couldn’t be erased no matter how hard he tried.

He had no intention of kindly listening to the last words of the man who had tormented him for eight years.

A short gunshot echoed through the modest building detached from the square.

Two attendants dragged out the corpse with a hole in its head.

Thus, anyone who knew of Warren’s days as “Slave Philip” was erased from the world.

Those who had been forced into labor with him, the people who had used him at the factory, and even the factory owner who had tried to sell him to a sodomite just days before his escape from the island.

Warren handed the gun to the attendants and, feeling refreshed, took out a handkerchief to clean his hands.

He frowned at the lingering, putrid scent of the vile thing.

Still, having accomplished a task, he felt a sense of relief.

“Only one left, I suppose.”

He exhaled deeply, staring out the window.

In the distance, he could see the mansion where the vilest person in this empire resided.

Warren calmly sank into thought, but his eyes flickered blue with anger as he recalled his detestable sworn brother.

In his mind, it was as if the song of blessings flowed.

“It is an honor to meet you, Duke.”

The banquet hall glowed warmly after a long time.

The chandelier hanging from the high ceiling cast an orange light downwards.

Luxurious food and lively guests filled the hall with a pleasant atmosphere.

At first, Ikali had been reluctant to attend, but he skillfully engaged with Mia’s words.

“The honor is mine, Mrs. Hulum. I wasn’t able to greet you properly at the salon the other day.”

“Oh, let’s not dwell on the past. Let’s focus only on this banquet.”

“Thank you for your consideration. There’s nothing grand, but I hope you enjoy it.”

Ikali had studied etiquette under a teacher for years, so he could host the guests without issue.

The dishes brought to the banquet were more than adequate.

Seila, who occasionally poked at Psyche, remained quiet this time.

Perhaps she had changed her mind during the short walk, or perhaps she had heard a word from her aunt before attending.

Thanks to that, Psyche could focus solely on her husband.

Psyche, expressionless, watched Ikali while eating.

Did Ikali really avoid spending time with me in the previous life out of consideration for my reputation?

In her previous life, Ikali had never emotionally engaged with anyone after marriage.

He always spent his time in the study, and when she suggested going out together, he would only send maids along.

She didn’t know what he had been thinking in the past life when he kept his distance.

But perhaps in this life, she might be able to understand his thoughts.

Psyche couldn’t help but glance at Ikali while he drank.

After the appetizers were done and the main course arrived, Mia spoke in a slightly excited voice.

“I actually brought something from home that I really wanted to share with you, Duke and Duchess. Would you like to try it?”

“What? What is it?” Psyche asked.

Mia sent a maid to bring the gift.

When the wrapping of the long box was removed, a sleek black bottle was revealed.

Ikali immediately recognized the contents.

“Madam, this is—”

“You recognize it? It’s wine from the Nixsen-Georges region. If you don’t mind, let’s have a glass together, Duke, Duchess. It’s really delicious, and I wanted us to try it!”

Mia said cheerfully, and Seila shrugged beside her. Apparently, she wasn’t surprised by Mia’s fondness for alcohol.

“The people of Nixsen are incredibly passionate about wine. They even drink during the day quite often.”

“Indeed. It doesn’t matter whether it’s day or night if it’s good wine. The grapes are of the finest quality, so I’m sure it will suit your taste as well.”

It was said that the Duke, Hulum, and Mia’s eyes had met because he was a collector and frequent drinker of fine wine.

It was a meeting of connoisseurs.

“Daytime drinking may seem improper to others, especially to the empire’s people,” Seila teased with a smirk.

Psyche, feeling slightly moved by Mia’s thoughtful gift, quickly said,

“Improper? No, that’s not the case. I may not drink well, but having a glass together sounds delightful. Right?”

Mindful of Mia, who had gone out of her way to bring the gift, Psyche sought Ikali’s agreement.

Their eyes unexpectedly met in midair.

For a moment, they stared at each other, then Ikali averted his gaze first.

He cleared his throat softly and gestured to the maid.

“Wine glasses.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Soon, the maid placed round wine glasses in front of the four of them. The crimson wine swayed in the transparent glasses.

The meal accompanied by wine was filled with warmth and harmony.

Mia Hulum didn’t fear Ikali, despite the rumors surrounding him.

It seemed, at least to her, that he wasn’t frightening or grotesque.

Psyche, observing the change from water to wine in her glass, felt a small curiosity rising.

Why had he pushed her away in the previous life?

Why had he killed her father and asked for marriage again?

Was it simply duty that caused him to keep her at a distance for four years after their marriage?

Or was there something else…?

She didn’t want to, but a flicker of hope nervously stirred in her heart.

Holding a box filled with both despair and hope, Psyche brought the glass to her lips.

I just want to know his true feelings. My heart hasn’t changed.

No matter what he thought of her in the previous or current life, her resolve to divorce Ikali remained unshaken.

She repeated to herself, quietly and obsessively, that it had to be so.

So she didn’t notice the worried glances that touched her each time she took a sip.

“You’re drunk.”

Psyche looked up at the low voice.

She didn’t even need to feel her cheek to know it was flushed.

Though it was a casual dinner with close acquaintances, the small amount she had drunk made her feel slightly giddy.

She had tried to control herself, but not knowing her limits made it impossible.

While secretly watching Ikali, she had simply taken a sip whenever he did—again and again.

Yet no matter how much he drank, he remained composed, while she blushed like a stray.

…Still, she was certainly not drunk.

Psyche tried to open her eyes wider.

Ikali approached her while she stood in the hallway, having stepped out briefly from the dining area.

He seemed to have followed her, standing at the end of the corridor connected to the banquet hall.

“You’re not drunk. You’re flushed because it’s warm.”

Her reply sounded like an excuse even to her own ears.

The candlelight was just enough to make out the surrounding area.

Ikali raised an eyebrow at her. His expression seemed to ask if he should believe her, and Psyche felt slightly embarrassed.

“It’s true. I don’t usually drink much. That’s why my cheeks are red.”

“Yes, but I noticed you kept following my lead with your sips.”

He had noticed even that.

Before Psyche could respond, Ikali quietly walked beside her.

They stood with the window behind them.

Outside, the darkening sky blurred into the black silhouette of the forest.

The wind blowing outside the window reached them fully.

Then, drop by drop, rain began to fall.

Psyche gazed over her shoulder at the dark, sea-like landscape, then looked up at the man standing beside her.

She finally spoke.