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I’d almost forgotten him until Damien mentioned it.
The "protagonists" had indeed chosen rebellion.
But this time, they lacked the book's legitimacy. Davis was no longer a General commanding troops, just a hanger-on in Prince Alistair's circle.
Their rebellion lasted less than an hour. They were captured the moment they stepped outside the manor.
Moral of the story: If you're incompetent, don't start trouble. You'll just become a bigger joke.
Davis became the capital's top gossip again.
Because Callie perfectly demonstrated "shared woods, separate flights in peril." She spilled everything Davis had done, only to be strangled by his furious hands.
Months later, I saw Davis again.
Bound to a stake, he raged at me: "Maya, I never touched you! Whose bastard is that?"
"You whore! Cuckolding me!"
I sneered: "Aren't youthe one who loves that accessory? You happily handed your precious Callie to another man's bed. One more cap shouldn't matter."
"And what right do you have to judge me now?"
His face purpled, features twisting: "You understand nothing! This was pragmatism for the greater cause!"
Seeing my disdain, he glared venomously: "I was a General! How dare you disgrace me!"
Hearing him harp on that title was exhausting.
I twisted the bracelet on my wrist, laughing: "General? That's history. Now you're just a prisoner barking at me?"
"Want a taste of kicking a downed dog? Fancy some 'bamboo rod special'?"
His eyes burned with pure malice. I didn't like that look.
A sharp crack echoed as my whip struck him: "What are you staring at?"
Shocked I'd actually strike, he stammered: "Maya... I was a General... How dare you?"
I flicked the whip, chuckling: "In Aethelgard, Iacknowledge you, then you are a General."
"Sound familiar, Davis? You taught me that. How's my imitation?"
"Besides, your downfall is entirely your own doing. Blame no one else."
He stared blankly for a moment, then slumped against the straw in defeat.
"Oh, and I forgot to mention," I added, "While you were tangled with Callie on our wedding night, mysheets were just as rumpled."
"Three's a crowd, after all. Four worked much better."
Ignoring his look promising murder, I turned and left.
As I exited the dungeon, I faintly heard the jailer mention a prisoner's suicide.
It meant nothing to me now.
Seeing the figures waiting outside, each holding a child, I quickened my pace towards them.
The twins' first birthday approached. Damien wanted to announce their lineage at the celebration.
I left the arrangements to them, but he fretted about my own status.
They wanted me publicly acknowledged at his side. I refused.
He relented.
At the celebration, the sudden appearance of royal heirs drove the old ministers wild with joy.
No more fretting over the Emperor's succession!
They beamed all day.
After the feast, I pressed Damien about his supposed sterility.
He clammed up.
Finally, under my relentless questioning, he snapped: "Ask Albert! He knows!" and fled, clutching a baby.
Albert gleefully spilled: "Damien? He's ill. Allergic to women. That's why I never believed the baby was his."
"I knewhe couldn't touch women. Who knew you'd be the exception? And now the babies too."
The reason stunned me.
I'd assumed... inadequacy... but personal experience contradicted that. It had puzzled me.
Curiosity piqued, I asked: "And you?"
His grin vanished. After a pause: "Felt... performance was brief. Suspected illness. Over-medicated. Result: severe fertility issues."
Separately, the words were manageable. Combined, they were pure absurdity.
My laughter brought tears. He sighed: "Spare my dignity, please? Time for supper."
He led me towards the dining room. Seeing our shadows, the book's final lines echoed in my mind:
Aethelgard Year 9: Emperor died childless at Mount Long.
Shengde Year 3: Divine Physician Albert succumbed to illness at Huaizhou.
Scant words summed their fates.
Hmm. Only slightly more detail than mine. Instantly, I felt balanced.
