Chapter 106 - The Voice Of Bloodthirst
Estianâs expression progressively hardened as the knight relayed the results of the investigation. Concluding his report, the knight stood in front of Estian with his head bowed waiting for the emperorâs directive.
This knight was a subordinate that had worked under Estian for quite some time and was known to be meticulous in his work. Discrete by nature, he also understood the importance of keeping the results of his investigation confidential. That was why Estian had entrusted him with this task.
âGood work. You may go.â
Kane, judging that the dismissal of the knight also applied to himself, quickly excused himself. Left alone in the quiet room, Estian fell into deep thought. It was only after it was deep into the night that he arose from his seat. Stepping out from his room, the attendants deftly began clearing a path before him with accustomed motions. The sight drew a wry laugh from Estian.
âWhy are you guiding me in this direction?â Estian asked.
The unexpected question caused the attendants to pause in their tracks. The attendants were habitually guiding the emperor towards the Summer Palace, now the Empress Palace, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Before Cecileâs arrival, it was a palace heâd never frequented after ascending the throne, yet now everyone assumed it natural for him to retire there for the night.
âWe thought you would go to the empressâs palace, Your Majesty,â one of the attendants stammered.
âSince when did I say I would?â
The attendants hastily bowed in response to Estianâs cold voice. âWhatâs with the sudden change in attitude? Did something happen?â Ever since the empress was crowned, there was never a day when the emperor hadnât visited the Summer Palace. Why would he suddenly change his tune out of the blue? The attendants who frequented the empressâs palace racked their brains over the dayâs events, but couldnât pinpoint anything to note. The emperor had departed from the empress palace late in the morning that day, no different from before.
The only change in routine was Her Majestyâs first excursion to attend an outside event. However, that in itself didnât present any particular problem, otherwise her outing wouldnât have been approved in the first place.
Estian watched the attendants floundering before him with a grim face. âI am returning to my chambers,â he announced coldly, and walked away leaving behind his baffled attendants.
âYo-your Majesty?â The attendants of the main palace reacted to Estianâs appearance as if theyâd seen a ghost. Itâd been so long since he had returned to his own quarters, and his sudden appearance had caught them off guard. The attendants had grown accustomed to spending their days in relaxation, but they feigned calmness and swiftly set about cleaning and straightening out the room for the emperorâs use.
Estian didnât spare a glance and headed straight to his chambers. Only after the solid doors had shut behind him, blocking off the noise of the attendants bustling about outside, was he greeted with silence. The room was bathed in moonlight filtering in through the window. Instead of turning on the magic lamp, he glanced around the dimly lit room that heâd used ever since he ascended the throne. He was surprised at how unfamiliar the room felt.
It looked like any other room in the imperial palace; nothing about it would suggest it belonged to the emperor. He had spent so many nights here, yet it didnât feel like home. It wasnât just the room; even the corridors of the main palace felt foreign. Estian moved towards the center of the lavish but sparsely decorated room.
Tossing his coat over a chair, Estian collapsed onto his bed. There was a sense of discomfort. His chamber had been cleaned and maintained despite his absence, but for some reason a chill and sense of desolation hung heavily in the room. Reflexively he reached out beside him, but his touch reached only a cold bedsheet.
âHaâŠâ Estian couldnât repress the laugh that tumbled from his mouth, realizing that like an ingrained habit, his hand was seeking the warmth of Cecile. Silence once again descended as Estian lay there soaking in the stillness; it was an awkward feeling. He hadnât realized just how accustomed heâd grown to the constantly tittering voice beside him over the past few months. Trying to escape his thoughts, Estian decided to shut his eyes in the hopes of drifting off to sleep instead.
It was at that moment a voice reverberated in his head like an echo. It had a terrible screechy tone. Estian made no attempt to plug his ears; it was a voice familiar to him. More precisely, it belonged to the blood of Eugendiph coursing through his veins. A blood that periodically craved slaughter.
âYes, kill I shall,â Estian muttered aloud to himself. He began counting the number of days until he would launch an attack on the dukedom of Etia.
âIâve been patient far too long,â the voice whispered again.
Indeed, it had been a while since his last campaign. Why was that? It didnât take long for Estian to figure out that it wasnât that he had purposely abstained, but rather that he simply hadnât felt the urge. Again, why was that? Ever since he had been consumed by the blood of Eugendiph, there hadnât been a single day when the voice hadnât spoken to him. It had become a part of his everyday life, which is why he was accustomed to hearing it. Yet, lately it had cleanly slipped his mind. Estian combed through his memory. Since when did he stop noticing the voice?
âIt was since the day of our wedding,â he thought incredulously. The voice that had tormented and plagued him for almost the entirety of his life had slipped his mind without a concern. It was easily forgotten without a worry, just as heâd forgotten the Eugendiph blood pumping through his body. And yet, it had returned on the first day after separating from Cecile. What were the chances? How could this be?