Chapter 13
You Are Forever Mine
2023.08.13.
At that time, Peter had just recovered from his illness. He was weak, and at the same time, frail. In contrast, the former emperor was tall and robust, so the boy was barely able to hold on.
Yet Peter’s gaze was fierce, as if he would tear apart the man who had grabbed him by the collar.
The former emperor cherished that side of his son. That inhuman quality—the way he seemed almost crazed like himself—was something he appreciated.
In an ordinary family, one could imagine a father sitting with his son on his lap, telling stories from the past. But the House of von Derai, the imperial family, was not ordinary.
A cruel father who gripped his son’s collar spoke:
“If you understand, forget the dead. That’s the only way you will survive.”
The method by which dragons choose their mates was simple.
Imprinting.
Of course, to become an official mate, one had to go through a formal procedure, so imprinting alone didn’t guarantee a mate—but from that moment, a dragon’s destiny was practically sealed.
And Peter imprinted on Lowell. The only tragedy was that he had imprinted on someone destined to die.
So perhaps it was one of his father’s rare genuine pieces of advice—but Peter laughed at his father.
“Even you went mad, unable to forget your deceased mate, and now you tell me to forget? Saying it is easy, isn’t it?”
Whether he spoke that thought aloud is unclear.
The memory of that time remains as vivid as a brand even ten years later, yet strangely, he remembered nothing of what happened afterward. By the time he came to his senses, he was suffering from a high fever.
The diagnosis: the aftereffects of overusing magic.
It was then that Peter used magic for the first time, and simultaneously, he realized something.
The power to erase existence—it could even apply to incorporeal beings.
It was a power that could be used on anything in the world, as long as it existed.
It could even erase one’s own memories, or the existence of an entire person from this world.
Thus, Peter lost some memories but gained the ability to wield magic for the first time.
Five years after returning to the imperial palace, Peter tried to find Lowell.
Two years after reaching adulthood, Peter still couldn’t find Lowell.
Three years after becoming emperor, Peter began erasing all traces of Lowell.
Ten years change many things. Even recalling only the remaining memories was a painful experience.
If he didn’t forget, it felt as if he would die. The longing was suffocating. Struggling to survive, he had no choice but to suppress that longing. Unsure of how much to cut away, he slashed pieces of himself and buried them in the ground. Even if parts of his body were gone, as long as he didn’t dream of Lowell, it was enough.
The first memory Peter erased was Lowell’s smile. Unable to bring himself to erase it with his own hands, he endured, wishing only to remove what caused him the most pain—and after that, Lowell’s smile no longer came to mind.
Next came the image of Lowell asleep. Then her voice. Then their intertwined hands…
Yet even after five years together, Lowell’s presence didn’t vanish. He could have erased her completely if he had wanted, but he couldn’t.
“The imprint won’t disappear until I erase Lowell’s existence entirely from this world.”
But how could he find traces of her if he hardly remembered her?
Above all, imagining Lowell’s absence from his memory was impossible. Even if she weren’t his mate, someone he had imprinted upon was already a part of him. Lowell’s existence was one of the pieces that made him who he was.
Even if he could no longer recall her smile, or what her face looked like when she closed her eyes, he remembered the emotions, the weather, and the sunlight brushing her cheek. He remembered how deeply he had loved her, how precious the moments with her had been.
That imprint would never leave his mind until Lowell’s existence was fully erased from this world.
Still, the self-mutilation wasn’t entirely in vain. Peter no longer dreamed of Lowell. He no longer suffered constantly, and the days passed without thinking of her.
He had truly forgotten Lowell—or at least, he thought he had.
Until Anette appeared before him.
The memories he had buried returned in an instant. Memories he thought forgotten hit him harder than when he had erased them.
So, on the day Anette entered the palace, Peter dreamt of Lowell.
The two children were sitting together, leaning against the same tree’s shade as always.
“I heard there’s such a thing as a black rose, Lowell.”
“Really? I should plant some in our garden too.”
“I think it would suit you well.”
“Why? Because it’s black?”
Lowell’s voice was sharp. Black was her vulnerable spot.
But Peter didn’t say it to hurt her.
“No, I like the meaning of the flower.”
“What is it?”
“You are forever mine.”
Ahahaha! Lowell laughed. A pure, innocent laughter, as bright as her face.
“Yes, that’s right, Peter.”
But the expression she wore as she spoke next was extremely cold. Sharp. Ruthless…
“If I’m not by your side, where would I go?”
Her face twisted cruelly.
“You killed me and my family. Where could I possibly go?”
Lowell unleashed words of resentment through her contorted expression. Her hands gripped Peter’s neck mercilessly. These were no longer the hands of a young girl.
“If it weren’t for you, neither I nor my family would have had to die…!”
Anette Martinec. That image of her choking Peter was his last memory before he awoke.
Along with the memory, the madness he had suppressed invaded him stronger than ever.
And so, a few days later, the present.
“…I need to stop thinking about Lowell.”
It had been several days since Simoren had gone to guard Anette.
Unable to resist the chaos in his mind, Peter rose from his seat. Outside, dusk had already fallen. The horizon blurred indistinctly, so one could not tell if what approached was a person or a wolf. The scene mirrored Peter’s mind perfectly, shrouded in twilight.
“Trying to erase memories again would only backfire while Anette is here.”
He had no way to control his madness otherwise.
If he faced Anette in this state, it would have disastrous consequences. If he didn’t want a scene at the Tileman Memorial, Peter had to find another way to control his madness first.
Fortunately, there was a method he had used until three years ago. He hadn’t used it since beginning to erase memories.
“It’s been a while… I should visit the garden.”
Peter decided to open the long-closed door.
“Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Simoren Lindel, assigned as your guard from today.”
Watching the gray-eyed knight bow, Lowell thought:
“…My luck isn’t as bad as I thought.”
Until just before Simoren’s arrival, Lowell had been lost in one concern: naturally, about what would happen going forward.
“So far, everything has gone according to plan.”
It wasn’t a major problem yet, but Lowell liked certainty. She had developed a habit of checking even solid ground before crossing in Operta. There, one rarely got a second chance. Only a single, precisely calculated opportunity determined success or failure.
So she spared no effort to maximize the chance of success. This time was no exception.
She flipped through documents written in Operta’s code.
“From what I’ve seen, the current emperor’s madness hasn’t progressed as far as I expected.”
These documents were compiled by Lowell, gathering reports to form a final assessment. Most notable among them was Peter’s madness.
“Previous emperors without a mate had gone half-mad by Peter’s age.”
Since the progress of an emperor’s madness was not well-known, Lowell needed to gauge whether Peter was in a similar state. In the process, she realized Peter had maintained his sanity longer than any other emperor.
How was this possible under such dire circumstances?
“Madness can’t simply be stopped by will alone…”
Peter’s method must exist, she thought, but she had no idea what it was.
And this was something the Martinec intelligence could not uncover. She even tried probing Monique, but:
“The former empress seems clueless too.”
It seemed impossible to find out this way. While pondering this, Simoren came to see her.
Mabel’s face, working in the same place as her brother, brightened.
“It’s wonderful that my brother is here as a guard!”
“…I see.”
Turning her gaze to Simoren, Lowell didn’t need long to meet his hostile eyes. She recalled visiting him yesterday.
“I don’t like you, Anette Martinec.”
It was impossible that someone who had said that overnight suddenly came because she liked her.
Suppressing a smile behind a pretended chin rest, Lowell thought:
“Good. No matter the reason.”
Now she could get closer to Peter’s secret.
