affection chapter 14

He had forced Damon into the bathroom, even as the boy, his face pale from the drenching rain, had gripped his hand and insisted they leave at once. Shortly after, however, a servant emerged from the bathroom, his own face ashen.

‘You should see the young master’s condition, Your Grace…’

Fearing he’d fallen from his horse, the duke rushed in, only to be met with the sight of Damon’s body—a canvas meticulously chronicling years of abuse. There were countless scars, visible only upon close inspection, and his buttocks were a mass of red bruises, the skin completely broken. Haphazard fist and handprints marred his flesh. The duke’s hair stood on end with fury.

Seeing that chilling gaze, Damon looked surprised.

As if to ask why his wounds were a cause for such anger.

That alone enraged the duke to the point of madness.

He was enraged at Baron Limerio for causing this disaster, at himself for failing to notice, at his brother for abandoning the child, and at the damned god who delivered such a prophecy.

If Damon had died, he would never have forgiven himself.

After grasping the situation, the duke had asked about the relationship between Damon and the maid.

‘She was the only one who stood up for me. I couldn’t think of anyone but you, Your Grace, who could save her.’

Damon had spoken calmly. He hadn’t been asking for help for himself. He had come for the maid, who had been endangered while trying to stop the abuse.

The realization was devastating.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how many years the boy had suffered like this, all alone.

Gazing at his nephew, who had been forced to mature far too quickly, the duke pressed a hand to his forehead.

I suppose I should thank the maid…

‘You must be busy, Uncle. I will give her your regards in your stead.’

At Damon’s blatant refusal, the duke, who had been leaning forward, straightened. Though the boy feigned indifference to hide his true feelings, the duke could see right through him.

‘You’ve taken a liking to that maid, haven’t you?’

Instead of answering, Damon whipped his head away.

It was a silent affirmation.

Hah. This boy.

The duke smiled faintly and watched Damon. The black hair and golden eyes, hallmarks of the imperial family, were distinct in him as well. The duke’s gaze deepened.

The people of House Marbas, despite their imperial blood, almost always took only a single partner for life. If an emperor and empress were childless, they would sooner adopt a relative’s child as their heir than bring another into their union. Even if their partner died, instances of them taking another were exceptionally rare.

As they loved only one person for a lifetime, their possessiveness over that person was immense. It was not limited to romantic love; their obsession with anyone they acknowledged as “theirs” was extraordinary. At times, their unconditional affection and obsession for their chosen person could be mistaken for romance even toward someone of the same sex, and it was often enough to suffocate the recipient. This tendency was especially excessive before they reached adulthood, as they found it difficult to control their emotions.

After an incident where a Marbas princess, severely obsessed with her handmaiden, murdered the young lady’s fiancé, the family took measures to ensure their children met as many people as possible before adolescence. This was because while they might feel simple fondness for a person met before puberty, after puberty, that feeling could transform into obsession and madness. To prevent their affection from concentrating on a single individual, they chose to broaden their social circles, thereby dispersing those intense feelings.

The duke had believed Damon was doing the same. Even during his long campaigns, he had paid close attention to his nephew, never neglecting to read the reports on him, even on a battlefield where men and beasts died in droves. How could he have been so foolish, to only now realize those reports had been fabricated?

Isolated within the castle, Damon was a ticking time bomb. Fortunately, for one of the Marbas line, the boy was rather stoic and reserved, so it did not show on the surface.

And on that day the maid helped him, Damon must have come to think of her as his person.

Marbas affection paid no heed to status, gender, or age. It was why, though rare, there had been cases of an emperor marrying a commoner.

The duke gave a bitter smile as he looked at his nephew, who was beginning to show the Marbas temperament. He was worried, but he was also relieved that in this vast, lonely castle, Damon had finally found someone to attach himself to. Even if his feelings grew too strong, sending him to the academy next year to meet more people would likely temper them.

The duke looked proudly at his nephew, who had grown so much, and prepared to leave.

Just then, a maid entered carrying a teapot, the liquid sloshing inside with her every step.

Honey-gold hair and eyes as blue as the sky—she was a rare beauty for the countryside. Her large eyes, set in deep sockets, and the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose gave her a distinctly girlish air.

As he stared at her, she bowed her head deeply, casting the shadows of her long eyelashes upon her cheeks.