Dark Dad’s Rebirth - Chapter 14: Madness (8)

“Upon investigation, we’ve discovered that not only the young lord of Marquis Verha’s family but also the eldest son of the Sermonn Count’s household is involved,” Gossen reported.

Caelius, skimming through the documents, let out a faint groan as a headache surged through him. Gossen, alarmed, quickly asked, “Your Highness… are you alright?”

Unable to bear it, Caelius retrieved medicine and a hallucinogen from a drawer and placed them in his mouth. Gossen let out a short sigh, unable to hide his concern.

“If only you could… at least stop taking sleeping pills…”

Caelius waved dismissively, as if to say it was fine, and swallowed the pills.

“It’s fine.”

“But—”

This wasn’t a mere physical ailment. For Caelius, it was a deeply rooted condition, a lasting scar left by the wars of his youth, one that would likely follow him for the rest of his life.

Having once stood in the heart of the battlefield, surrounded by the deafening roars of knights, torrents of blood, and piles of grotesque corpses, Caelius had experienced an extreme state of stimulation. As a result, his threshold for excitement had been set far higher than the average person’s.

If the everyday world provided a stimulation level of 10, Caelius had experienced levels of 100 during the war. That breadth of experience had permanently altered him; he could no longer return to his old state.

Where life once felt satisfying with a stimulation level of 10, now it felt unbearably dull.

Caelius stared blankly at the documents, his eyes unfocused. The papers contained information about familiar figures.

“Leon Verha and Antion Sermonn, you said?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

The ones who had supplied hallucinogens to Aria.

Caelius knew that he was the one who had driven her to the point where she sought out the drugs. Even so, he needed someone to blame. Shifting his anger toward Leon and Antion felt like the only way he could ease his guilt, however pathetic that might be.

“Pull all the investments from the Selmon Count’s estate. As for the Verha Marquisate…”

What dealings did I have with them again?

Already swamped with work, Caelius struggled to recall. Giving up, he flipped through the documents. Gossen, sensing his hesitation, carefully offered, “The Wittlesbach knights are currently providing escort services for the Verha Marquisate’s trading caravans.”

“Ah, yes. That’s right.”

As if the memory had finally returned, Caelius furrowed his brows and tapped the desk lightly with his fingers.

Trading caravan escorts.

For a noble family based in the capital rather than the outskirts, it was unusual to rely on knights from another house for protection. However, the Verha Marquisate, known for its immense wealth, had one glaring weakness: its military.

Though skilled at running businesses, the Verha family had no talent for building a knightly order. Their reputation as a merchant family meant they had virtually no military power. The knights affiliated with the Marquisate were essentially for show, and the only capable fighter among them was Leon. But as the heir to the house, Leon couldn’t be tasked with something as mundane as escorting caravans. Thus, the Verha family had been paying large sums to other houses to secure escorts.

Caelius briefly considered cutting the Wittlesbach knights from their contract altogether. But the task of escorting could easily be picked up by another house.

As he pondered, a thought struck him, bringing a faint smile to his lips.

“Come to think of it, there’s the Levin tea business…”

Levin tea.

Renowned across the northern continent for its exceptional calming properties, Levin tea was highly coveted. However, the northern continent’s insular nature made its inhabitants reluctant to export their goods.

Thanks to the difficulty of establishing relations, most families had given up on trading with the northern continent—and the Wittlesbach Grand Duchy was no exception. The only house in the empire to successfully negotiate with the northern continent was the Verha Marquisate. Levin tea had become the first product of trade between the two regions, making this import deal a major affair that even the imperial family had taken notice of.

For the empire, northern culture was unfamiliar and novel. This marked the first step in establishing new exchanges. In a way, the Verha Marquisate had accomplished a significant feat. By opening the door with Levin tea, further trade opportunities with the north could emerge.

However, Caelius’s gaze remained icy. He seemed lost in thought about the Levin tea deal, his pitch-black eyes fixed on the documents spread on the desk.

How much time had passed like this? In the silent office, a low voice broke through.

“They’ll only come to their senses after their business collapses.”

Caelius clicked his tongue softly before continuing.

“The tea leaves grow exclusively in the north, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Then we’ll release a small number of tobacco beetles into them. When the Verha Marquisate plans its visit to the north, make sure to send only the best escorts.”

His narrowed eyes gleamed with a cunning light. Hearing this, Gossen hesitated momentarily before asking, “Tobacco beetles… Your Highness?”

Tobacco beetles were common pests in the empire. They infested old grain or dried plants in the hundreds, causing headaches for commoners.

“Yes. They reproduce so rapidly that even a small number will suffice.”

Gossen, who usually responded with a brisk “Yes, sir,” appeared visibly uneasy today—and for good reason.

“Your Highness, if this ends up creating a diplomatic issue with the northern continent…”

The trade route with the north had been painstakingly established. While the Verha Marquisate’s losses were one thing, this could potentially strain relations between the empire and the north—a much larger issue. But Caelius, seemingly having anticipated this concern, responded in a detached voice.

“That won’t happen. We’ll chalk it up to an issue caused during transport from the cool climate of the north to the warm, humid empire. Besides, tobacco beetles can’t survive in the cold of the northern continent.”

Caelius’s knowledge of the northern climate was surprisingly detailed for an imperial. Gossen briefly wondered why, before remembering that Caelius had participated in the northern wars as a young man. He quickly bowed his head.

“As you command, Your Highness. I will proceed accordingly.”

* * *

As Caelius carefully stepped into Aria’s bedroom once again, he found himself staring at her sleeping face for a long time. Lately, she had been glaring at him with lifeless eyes, cutting him to pieces with her sharp words. Yet, looking at her now, peacefully asleep, she seemed like an angel.

“…An angel, I suppose.”

An angel who, at one time, he believed would bring him the throne and save him. Now, however, she had become a cruel angel, tightening her grip around his neck.

“If… if I asked for it—could you give up the throne?”
“The grand duchy, the throne, everything. Your name, your status—could you throw it all away and live with me in some small village in the south, far from anyone’s eyes…?”

Her words from long ago echoed in his mind. Back then, Caelius, who had never once considered a life without power, had been too stunned to respond properly. But now, he could answer with certainty.

“I’ll give it up.”

Still, he couldn’t be sure whether Aria would even want to hear that answer now.

“I’ll give up the grand duchy, the throne, everything you want. Everything.”

His voice trembled pitifully. Not from the regret of letting go of power, but from the desperate hope that Aria might still long for the answer he was giving her.

“So, please… just don’t ask me to let you go anymore.”

Finishing his words, Caelius took her hand in his and bowed his head helplessly.

The first time he had ever bowed before her, there had been a subtle arrogance to it—a meaningless pride in the act of lowering himself. Look, I’m bowing to you. But now, there was no trace of such arrogance left.

He looked utterly pitiful—far removed from the man who once carved his name into history on bloody battlefields.

How much time had passed? A faint movement from the small hand he held broke through his thoughts. Caelius immediately raised his head, catching the subtle fluttering of her closed eyelids. Before long, her golden eyes, as radiant as ever, appeared.

“Riri.”

“……”

“Let’s go to the south.”

Aria, who had just woken up, furrowed her brows at the suddenness of Caelius’s words.

“I’ll give it all up, just like you wanted. Okay? Let’s go to the south, where no one will find us, and live happily together, just the two of us.”

Caelius, sensing his chance, began to speak rapidly.

“We’ll raise a cat or a dog—whatever you like. Forget about the throne, the rebellion, all of it. Let’s live quietly. If there’s anything else you want, I’ll give it to you. So please, Riri…”

Aria seemed slightly taken aback by Caelius’s sudden outburst, her expression betraying her surprise. Noticing this rare moment of vulnerability, Caelius pressed on without hesitation.

“What about leaving next week? I’ll make arrangements for a house in the south right away. We’ll pick a spot not too isolated, with a market nearby. Oh, and for a cat, how about a white Persian? They’re beautiful. And since you like street food, we’ll make sure the market isn’t too far from the house…”

Aria, listening quietly, suddenly spoke, her tone guarded.

“…What did you just say?”

“What do you mean?”

“What did you just say?”

Encouraged by her unexpectedly mild reaction, Caelius eagerly repeated himself.

“I said we could leave for the south next week. We’ll raise a cat, live near a market, and stay out of the public eye.”

“And… the market, why…?”

“Because you like skewers and ice cream. Even though I told you not to eat too much because it might upset your stomach, you never listened…”

Caelius rambled on as if reminiscing fondly, but then he noticed something off and abruptly stopped speaking.

‘I don’t have any memories like that…’

Caelius frowned in confusion. He had once had a strange dream, but that was all it was—a dream. He had never gone to the market with Aria, nor had they bought and eaten such food together.

Realizing this, Caelius felt a flicker of unease and furrowed his brow. But unlike him, Aria’s face was filled with an astonishment he had never seen before. Her golden eyes began to glisten with moisture, and she breathed heavily, as if struggling to manage the whirlwind of emotions surging within her.

“Have your memories… returned?”

“What? What are you talking about…?”

At his reaction, Aria’s expression dimmed slightly with disappointment. Yet, she quickly masked it, as though nothing had happened.

“…It’s nothing. Forget it.”

But Caelius was not someone to simply let such words slide. He turned her statement over in his mind, refusing to dismiss it.

“Have your memories returned,” she said.

It was as if she believed he had lost his memories at some point…

Caelius began meticulously combing through his life, from its earliest moments to the present. Yet no matter how deeply he searched, he couldn’t uncover the meaning behind Aria’s words. Naturally so—Caelius had never lost any memories in this life.

For now, figuring out Aria’s cryptic statement could wait. What mattered was her reaction to his proposal.

“Let’s start preparing.”

Her lack of outright rejection to the idea of moving to the south was far more important.

“To leave unnoticed, it’s best to dismiss some of the servants and pack our things quietly.”

Lately, Aria had reacted to everything Caelius proposed as though it were worse than death, her sharp words cutting deep. Yet now, strangely, she showed no sign of resistance.

This small and seemingly insignificant shift felt like a breath of fresh air to Caelius, easing the suffocating tension within him.

Aria gazed at Caelius with an uncharacteristic look, as if silently asking him whether he was being sincere. Recognizing her doubt, Caelius reassured her, his tone firm yet pleading.

“Even if you don’t want to go, I’ll still take you. So don’t waste your energy resisting.”

Though phrased as an order, his voice carried the weight of a heartfelt plea.

Aria, perceptive as always, could easily sense Caelius’s emotions. He was utterly defenseless in this moment, his vulnerability laid bare.

Pinching the back of her hand slightly, Aria tested whether she might still be dreaming. The pain was vivid, pulling her back to reality. Even so, she found it hard to believe the words coming out of Caelius’s mouth.

‘Then again, everything about Dad lately has felt surreal…’

But this felt a little different. This was the life Aria had long dreamed of since her previous life. Perhaps that’s why it felt so strange—like she had achieved something she had yearned for over countless years, only for it to fall into her hands too easily, leaving her with a hollow sense of fulfillment.

At the sweet proposal, Aria momentarily forgot the years she had spent pushing Caelius away and foolishly allowed herself to imagine a life with him in the south.

A warm southern town, where snow never falls, with a garden filled with beautiful roses in front of the house. A life spent raising a large dog and small cats, living a simple and peaceful existence. When life in the south became dull, they could travel together occasionally, far removed from the throne and its power. And with the child growing in her womb, it might not be just the two of them, but the three of them building a future together.

It wasn’t hard to imagine—after all, it was a vision Aria had painted for herself countless times before.

Before she realized it, tears had fallen onto her cheeks. It wasn’t intentional; they had escaped on their own.

“Riri!”

Startled, Caelius hurried to wipe the tears from her eyes. But the tears showed no sign of stopping anytime soon.

“Ah…”

Aria let out a soft sound as she wrapped her arms around her belly. Thoughts and emotions overwhelmed her completely.

The future she had long dreamed of, over lifetimes, was no longer a distant fantasy but was about to become a tangible reality within her grasp. Whether the tears streaming down her face were of joy, sorrow, or wistfulness, Aria herself couldn’t tell.

No matter how much Caelius whispered love to her, no matter how earnestly he apologized and begged for forgiveness, Aria’s response had always been dry and emotionless. But this time was different. It was like a parched land experiencing its first few drops of rain in ages.

Watching her, Caelius sighed deeply. All he had done was relinquish the throne, and yet Aria’s response had changed so drastically. He began to berate himself internally. If only he had realized sooner, if only he had abandoned his ambitions earlier.

A memory of Amerin’s words surfaced in his mind.

“Did you really think such a paltry trick would work? I’ve told you this before—you’re far too greedy for someone in your position!”

At the time, Caelius had scoffed at Amerin’s words, mocking her. But now, it was different. She had been right, and he had been wrong.

With nothing left to his name, why had his arrogance reached such unimaginable heights? Why had he never thought to reflect on himself before it was too late?

“…I’m sorry I was so late,” Caelius murmured, pulling the frail Aria into his arms.

This time, she didn’t resist. It was a peace he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt.

Though it wasn’t complete peace, Caelius clung to the moment, wishing desperately to preserve even this much as he held Aria tightly in his embrace.