Chapter 43
Chapter 43. I Know You
“…What do you mean? Assassins?”
Gartan skillfully hid his emotions.
Vinea paused as servants entered to clear the dishes.
Meanwhile, Gartan’s mind raced at this unexpected information.
Assassins? Could she possibly know something?
He had hired elite assassins at great expense, ones who would take their own lives if they failed. They were known for leaving no traces, so there should have been no trail to follow.
Given the sensitive nature of the conversation, Gartan couldn’t continue in front of the servants. He scrutinized Vinea’s face, barely noticing the teacup being placed before him.
Her faint smile gave no hint of her thoughts.
As soon as the last servant left after setting down the tea and desserts, he spoke.
“Now tell me. What’s this about assassins?!”
His raised voice sounded concerned due to surprise, but Vinea knew better than anyone what lay beneath.
“It’s exactly as I said. Assassins have been coming since the wedding day. It’s been quite a headache.”
“Are you alright? You haven’t been hurt?”
His act of concern for his niece was so convincing, it could be believed even if he said he was an actor.
Vinea shook her head, genuinely impressed.
“I wasn’t hurt. Seeing your surprised face reminds me of when Vante and I used to play tricks on you as children. Those were truly happy times.”
What childhood? After seventy-seven regressions, trivial memories and reminiscences were the first to wear away.
Her companion seemed too preoccupied to notice the fabricated words. Slamming the table, he spoke with an angry face.
“This is no joke, Vinea! Attacked by assassins! This could justify going to war!”
“We can’t start a war over just this. Think of the peace we’ve achieved. You gave up the throne, and I gave up my freedom. Don’t you have any regrets?”
“…There is no peace more important than your life, Vinea.”
“It’s reassuring to hear you say that.”
She sipped her tea with a relaxed expression. Her agitated companion couldn’t hold back.
“But what did you mean that I already knew about the assassins? Surely you don’t think I sent them?”
Vinea used her fork to take a bite of cake she normally wouldn’t touch. The soft cream and sweet preserved peaches filled her mouth. The sweetness was unpleasantly intense.
She put down her fork and looked up to see Gartan’s coldly set face staring at her.
“How could you think such a thing? You know how much I care for you.”
“You seem to have misunderstood. That’s not what I meant.”
Vinea continued, her eyes curving.
“As a former emperor, you must have experienced many such threats. You’d know how exhausting they can be.”
“…It seems I misunderstood.”
“I’d like to talk more, but it’s gotten late. I’ll arrange another meeting before you return to Veshnu.”
“Yes. That would be good.”
And so the uncomfortable time ended. Vinea kept smiling until Gartan left the palace. Just like the niece he remembered.
* * *
Dim moonlight shines on the darkened room.
Vante emerged from the cramped bathroom used by servants, shaking water from his hair and wearing the ring as he came out.
“Geez, took you long enough.”
The servant he was sharing quarters with grumbled as he entered the bathroom.
Vante flopped onto the bed, his tired body sinking into it.
Though not dusty, the creaky, hard bed and rough bedding still felt unfamiliar.
He had lived as a noble all his life. Since staying at the imperial palace, he had only used bedding so soft it seemed to flow off his body, so the disconnect was unavoidable.
“Still, it’s fortunate Uncle allowed this.”
Having snuck in under a false identity, he had agreed to sleep with the servants to keep his appearance hidden until after the Empire Foundation Day banquet, when he would arrange to meet his sister privately.
There had been opposition from nobles who questioned how the imperial prince could live with servants, but somehow they had been persuaded and were now ignoring him.
He had heard that his uncle had an amazing ability to sway people since his time on the throne, but seeing it up close, his skill at persuading people and steering situations in his desired direction was remarkable.
Thanks to that, he was now able to stay in the servants’ quarters.
To prevent any careless words from leaking out, the nobles who recognized his identity had been thoroughly silenced, so none of the low-ranking servants at the end of the procession recognized him with the artifact’s disguise.
Ron, the man he was sharing the room with, came out of the bathroom. His gaze fell on the bottle of alcohol on the small side table.
He picked up the bottle with admiration.
“Wow, what’s this?”
“I heard it was from Grand Duke Aktavil. Seems he distributed it to the servants for their hard work on the journey.”
“As expected of such a lofty person, his generosity is something else. Tsk, to think I’d taste such fine liquor, it was worth coming all this way.”
Pop―
With a refreshing sound, he uncorked the bottle and poured the alcohol generously into a wooden cup.
“Mack, was it? Want some?”
Vante shook his head.
“No. I’m tired and want to sleep first.”
“You won’t drink this precious thing? Well, more for me.”
Vante watched with strange eyes as the man gulped down the alcohol, then stared fixedly at the flickering lamp on the wall.
Due to the deep darkness outside the window, everything visible in the room with the naked eye took on a scarlet, flame-like hue.
How much time passed? With the sound of the bottle rolling from his hand, Ron collapsed right onto the bed.
Vante got up from his seat with a hardened face.
No matter how strong the alcohol, it was strange that he collapsed so quickly, as if drugged. Especially since he had been bragging about his high alcohol tolerance the entire time while carrying luggage.
‘I didn’t touch the alcohol just in case…’
Since leaving Veshnu, he had been wary of everything involving his uncle. Things given, words spoken.
He hoped it was needless worry, but as time passed, he only realized how naive that thought had been.
Vante took off the ring and put it on the collapsed Ron’s hand. A bright light enveloped the fallen man’s face, and soon Ron’s appearance changed.
“No matter how I look at it, none of the original face remains, so how did Sister recognize me?”
Vante lay down on the bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin. He fervently hoped that nothing would happen and the night would pass uneventfully.
As if ignoring his desperate wish, not long after, the door opened with a click.
“Tsk, there are two of them.”
“Black eyes and brown hair, he said. With freckles on his face.”
“Let’s see…”
The sound of intruders moving was heard. Vante breathed evenly with all his might, pretending to be in a deep sleep.
“It’s obviously this one. Check his eye color.”
“If we wake him, things could get noisy.”
“He said he took care of it. He won’t wake up for at least four hours.”
A man spoke with a rustling sound.
“It’s black. I’m sure.”
“We’ll just take this one.”
“Shouldn’t we take care of the other one too?”
“Hmm…”
Vante felt the man approach. Sweat began to form on his palm, clenched in tension.
“…No, leave him. This isn’t Veshnu. If we cause a commotion, we’ll be the ones in trouble.”
“Understood.”
The sound of something heavy being slung over a shoulder was heard.
“Shall I report to His Excellency?”
“No, I’ll do it. And be careful with titles. More than a few have lost their heads to His Majesty for that.”
Eventually, the men left the room.
Pretending to toss and turn, Vante turned his body and, confirming no one was in the room, quickly got up.
“Ha, Uncle really…”
It was obvious what would happen to the man who had disappeared from beside him. Along with deep guilt, an even greater sense of betrayal clouded his mind.
“And to say ‘His Majesty’…”
If they would take a life over a single title, he could roughly guess how great the obsession with the throne must be.
Given that drugs were added to the alcohol, it was clearly a premeditated crime.
The alcohol was too fine for a mere servant to drink. If he hadn’t revealed his identity before crossing the border, his uncle might have offered him this drink as soon as he set foot in Tessibania.
Vante felt a chill run down his spine.
It hit home how naive his thoughts had been towards someone trying to kill him.
“If it weren’t for Sister’s warning, I surely would have died tonight.”
He didn’t know when they might return, having sensed something amiss. Vante hurriedly gathered his belongings and left the room.
Being dawn, there were no servants moving about. As he tried to leave through the back door, keeping his presence low, someone blocked his path.
“I’ve come by order of Her Majesty the Empress. Please follow me.”
Vante stopped in surprise at the appearance of a woman with her cloak pulled low.
“Sister?”
“Yes. We don’t have time.”
How could he trust and follow after what he had just experienced?
The woman handed a piece of paper to Vante, who was showing intense wariness.
As he unfolded it, familiar handwriting met his eyes. It was his sister’s handwriting, which he had practiced countless times, wanting to emulate it.
[Follow her.]
Suppressing a smile at the note containing only the essential message, Vante followed behind the woman. After walking for some time, a small, shabby carriage appeared in the darkness.
“We’ll send someone on the day the Foundation Day celebrations end. Until then, stay at the lodgings you’ll arrive at. You’re free to go out, but know that our people will be with you. The driver will explain the details as you go.”
“Sister… isn’t coming with us?”
The cloaked figure tilted her head as if to say, “What on earth are you talking about?”
“She is the Empress of Tessibania. You’re saying strange things.”
“Ah…”
Right. It’s only been two months, so it’s not familiar yet. Even when he was in Veshnu, he used to habitually seek out his sister’s room.
Swallowing his bitterness, Vante boarded the carriage. The carriage departed silently.
Everything was falling into place as if it had been planned from the start, except for him. Amidst the easily resolved situation, only he felt confused, understanding nothing.
Vante leaned back in the carriage and closed his eyes. It was a day he had lost precious relationships. Deep despair and helplessness filled him.
“If you’re alive, she said we’d talk again.”
He was alive, and it wouldn’t be long before he could meet his sister again.
Then, he would finally be able to ask. What on earth happened in those two months for her to know all this? How did she overcome this unbearable sense of betrayal? No, had she even overcome it?
