TSMMT Ch 183

The True Past

Guiscard sobbed, yet his eyes remained hollow. Even an undead's gaze couldn't look so lifeless.

Wait...!

Dianna met those abyssal violet orbs and tumbled into his past once more. As if his pupils were a gateway, she plunged into his childhood.

She already knew the life he had endured. The Guiscard before her then and the Guiscard of today were the same man. Yet hearing of his past was entirely different from witnessing it. The reality unfolding before her was wretched beyond words.

Beginning with the death of the maidservant he revered as his mother, Guiscard had irrevocably broken.

Herya smiled. Guiscard screamed in agony at the sight of the maid's decapitated corpse, her head severed between the jaws of a monster.

Dianna studied Herya. She was a striking woman, seemingly innocent yet harboring an innate cruelty. Her speech and mannerisms mirrored Fafnir.

Though she had been a heartless mother to Guiscard, Fafnir had cherished even this terrible woman. It was a tragic realization.

Dianna didn't know what Guiscard felt toward his mother. Yet he appeared utterly spent.

Herya had been deceived by her own father, exploited to feed his inferiority complex, and ultimately burned at the stake.

Roaring flames engulfed the vision. An unearthly, horrific sound rang in Dianna's ears, yet she couldn't cover her ears before the gruesome sight.

Bound in ropes, Guiscard was forced to watch his mother burn alive. He didn't wail. He didn't scream. He only stared into the inferno.

Later, locked inside a prison cell, he sat vacantly. Only when his eyes drifted toward the spot where Herya used to sit did he finally break, weeping hysterically.

Dianna watched in silence, her heart shattering at his agonizing cries. Had she possessed a physical form here, she would have held him close.

The sins were far too deep. At her father's hands, Giuscard had lost his mother and his dignity. Thus, the hidden prince was reduced to a slave.

The first Dianna she saw was infuriatingly cheerful. Back then, following her mother's death, Dianna had wallowed in sorrow, believing herself the most unfortunate soul alive.

Unfortunate? Me? How pitifully naive.

Dianna loathed her younger self's performance of kindness. She hated the sweet illusions her past self harbored. Through it all, Guiscard had silently accepted her charity. She realized then that she had always treated him like a wild beast that refused to be tamed.

She remembered ordering him around without a second thought.

[Dianna] "Come here. That's an order."

[Guiscard] "..."

[Dianna] "If you don't eat this, you won't get another chance. Hurry up and eat."

She had disregarded his pride and forced him to eat. He had obeyed, shoving the food into his mouth.

[Dianna] "Oh no. You must be freezing, aren't you?"

She had given him her own clothes, but the servants stole them every time and beat him senseless.

Once, pitying his tattered attire, she gave him hand-me-downs from Emil. When Emil discovered it, he brutally punished Guiscard for not knowing his place, leaving the boy with a broken leg.

Even so, Guiscard looked only at her. Only at her.

One day, while Emil beat him severely, Dianna heard the commotion. But she had been scolded by her father earlier and felt thoroughly irritated after dealing with Alexa's tantrums.

Standing in the first-floor foyer, Dianna watched Emil and the servants beat someone on the floor. She shook her head in mild annoyance, turned, and walked up the stairs without looking back.

From where Guiscard lay, the hem of the young lady's skirt flickered between his attackers' legs before vanishing.

Dianna felt a chill of horror at the memory. She had believed she never turned a blind eye to him, but she had.

As she grew, Guiscard grew alongside her. When Prince Ferdinand visited the estate, Guiscard caught his attention.

[Ferdinand] "What is that?"

Dianna followed his gaze and offered a strained smile.

[Dianna] "It's merely a slave."

[Guiscard] "..."

[Dianna] "A worthless slave not fit for Your Highness to cast eyes upon."

[Ferdinand] "Ah, Ann. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Indeed, one should never associate with slave trash."

Satisfied, Ferdinand turned away.

Guiscard watched their departing backs with a blank expression. His gaze lingered on the young lady in her pristine dress before shifting to the prince touted as her prospective husband.

[Guiscard] "Prince..."

He muttered the word under his breath.

Prince.

He knew that he, too, was a prince. How had that title sounded to him then?

Dianna wanted to explain herself. She had never liked Ferdinand. Because she had seen him kick his own servants like dogs, she feared Guiscard's stoic defiance would draw the prince's wrath. She had wanted to protect him from Ferdinand's sadistic nature.

Yet had she ever explained that to him? Whenever Ferdinand visited or Emil brought friends around, Dianna dismissed Guiscard, treating him as someone beneath her concern.

It was meant for his protection, certainly, but she had never sought his understanding. Ultimately, even as a girl who believed herself benevolent, she had never viewed Guiscard as a human being worth reasoning with. Her younger self had known that all too well.

Dianna had assumed Guiscard was always hostile toward her, constantly bristling and rejecting her kindness.

She was wrong. Foolishly, she had never considered his perspective. Guiscard had every right to reject her pity, yet her actions had only made him feel wretched.

For Guiscard to smile at Dianna would have been pure degradation. How could he smile while accepting her patronizing sympathy?

It was not merely wounded pride. He had no other choice. No sane person could endure nightly violence from his master, get beaten like a dog by the master's son, and still accept a young lady's pity with a smile.

Dianna thought she understood. She believed she had objectively accepted her past and acknowledged her sins. But had she really understood?

This was not merely being related to the perpetrator. This was perpetration itself.

Her innocence, her warmth, her cowardice... what were they if not violence? What was the bright childhood she remembered from her past life?

The warm memories she had cherished before freeing Guiscard and marrying Ferdinand were warm only to her.

She had drawn comfort from Guiscard, wishing to see him smile. But how selfish was that desire? How strikingly similar to her father?

Why did I like Guiscard? What did he see when he looked at me?

Deep down, didn't I secretly view him as an ungrateful brute who returned kindness with malice?

Dianna realized in a sudden flash of clarity. Guiscard had been watching her all along, even when she thought he never looked her way.

Despite his suffering, his expression softened at her touch. And the next day, even if it meant a severe beating, he would brawl with the servants to protect the clothes and food Dianna had given him.

Dragging his battered body, bruised from the beatings inflicted by her father and Emil, he would curl up around the single pillow Dianna had given him after frowning at his dreary quarters. Holding it tight, he slept as peacefully as if he were in paradise. Sometimes, he sobbed quietly into the pillow.

That sheer solitude and exhaustion cut deep into Dianna's heart.

Once, when Guiscard was brought to the royal palace, he saw Dianna dressed in glorious attire. He had wanted to say something, but the words failed him. Maids, servants, and knights lavished praise on her beauty.

His eyes met Dianna's. She paused as if expecting something from him, but he glared at her and bolted away. Even so, he stole glances at her from afar.

Dianna, adorned in the finest garments. The gentle lady loved and praised by all. The refined, mature noblewoman. Then he looked down at his own attire, a slave's rags that paled in comparison to her vibrant dress.

Though he had tried his best to clean up, his clothes were stained with grime, and the trousers were far too short for his growing limbs. His hands were raw and scarred, ghastly beside her smooth, delicate fingers.

As if finally realizing what he was, he stared at his filthy, pitiful reflection for a long time.

Dianna was bathed in the world's light, while Guiscard barely stole glances at her from the shadows of the estate.

He stared at his reflection, horrified by the contrast, and muttered beneath his breath.

[Guiscard] "Beautiful..."

What was beautiful?

[Guiscard] "My lady... you are beautiful."

Then he buried his face in his hands, crushed beneath a suffocating weight of self-loathing.

---

A maid asked as she combed Dianna's hair.

[Maid] "Will you be marrying the prince then, my lady?"

Dianna answered with a faint smile.

[Dianna] "If it is my father's wish, I have no choice."

Yet not a trace of happiness touched her face.

Guiscard stood outside the door and heard her words. His eyes turned ice-cold.

[Dianna] "He only has my best interests at heart. There are no suitable suitors for me in Panborough anyway. Besides, I suppose it's better to occupy a higher position if I can."

Guiscard overheard the conversation through a crack in the door and bit his lip. He gritted his teeth, letting out a muffled groan of agony.

Dianna looked at her own attire in that memory and suddenly remembered.

That day had been special. It was the day Dianna freed Guiscard while he slept.