Chapter 20
(20) I Will Protect Your Majesty (12)
Fortunately, Eleanor seemed too busy examining the changed face to notice the momentary stiffness in Heraith’s expression.
“I don’t understand why Eyo Bastid’s name is coming up.”
“Oh, wasn’t that under Your Majesty’s orders? He was loitering around Tulip Palace in disguise. He had brown hair at the time. When he came back saying he’d become my escort, he looked completely different.”
Eleanor didn’t even seem to realize just how shocking her words were. Even including Heraith, no one could have seen through Eyo’s transformation. The only person in the imperial palace who knew that Eyo could change his appearance was Heraith.
‘And now… there are two.’
Should he kill this woman?
But the fact that he didn’t want to… left him flustered.
‘From the start…’
Heraith had openly shown Eleanor his changed appearance. The only one who knew Heraith had such an ability was Eyo. Even Oscar, who had been with him for years, was unaware of it.
‘Why…’
Why was he showing this ability to Eleanor without hesitation? If he just wanted to move in secret, wearing plain clothes and pulling his hat down like Eleanor would have sufficed.
During a festival with people from all over the land, no one would notice if someone tried to hide their identity.
Yet he came out like this.
“Can’t you just tell me a little? What kind of magic is it?”
Those sparkling eyes.
“At least the name of the spell.”
He wanted to see them. Heraith clenched his fists at this unexpected surge of emotion, then released them.
He still didn’t know what kind of person Eleanor Snow truly was. He didn’t know what this woman was capable of or what lay within her. Yet here he was, letting his guard down.
If Eleanor ended up stabbing him in the heart, he would have no excuse.
“I have no intention of telling you.”
His voice came out colder than necessary.
“Even if I did, it wouldn’t be of any use to you.”
“Well, can’t you let me decide that after you tell me?”
Having discovered new magic, Eleanor was different than usual. Her eyes sparkled more, her expression looked youthful, and her voice carried the liveliness of a young noblewoman.
Heraith felt a conflicting emotion—he wanted to see more of this transformed expression, and at the same time, didn’t want to see it at all.
It felt like those bright eyes had a life of their own and were strangling him.
“Have you had breakfast?”
“Are you changing the subject because this is something no one else should know about?”
Eleanor’s gaze shifted. As always, she calmly met Heraith’s eyes with a smile that didn’t quite reach her heart.
“Yes.”
“And yet you showed it to me… was it to test how tight-lipped I am?”
Was that why he’d acted so strangely?
Eleanor had given him a reason, even if unknowingly, so Heraith decided to go with it.
“I look forward to seeing how long your lips stay sealed.”
“My lips will only open before Your Majesty.”
“Are you saying you’ll occasionally pester me to reveal what this power is?”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“Hah.”
Heraith let out a short laugh at Eleanor’s compliment.
“You really give the most unexpected compliments.”
“And Your Majesty smiles like a painting at the most unexpected times.”
“A smile like a painting, you say. Isn’t that a phrase better suited to you, who always has a perfect smile?”
When Heraith lightly raised his hand, the shop clerk approached.
“I heard the sandwiches here are good.”
Following Heraith’s recommendation, Eleanor ordered a sandwich and some black tea.
While she ordered, Heraith looked out the window at the passing crowd. Once the clerk left, he spoke.
“Snow must be holding its own festival around this time too.”
“Yes. While nobles can afford to travel here for the festival, commoners can’t. Around New Year’s, there’s always heavy snowfall. People make snow sculptures from the piled-up snow. Walking down the festival streets and seeing them is one of the main joys.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled with nostalgia.
“During the festival, people make snowballs the size of fists in different colors and throw them in the direction of Mount Arlan.”
“Why do they do that?”
“They’re sending their wishes to Mount Arlan, hoping that no monsters descend and that good winds blow for the year. Seeing all the colored snowballs fly up at once looks like a field of flowers blooming in winter. I’d love to show that scene to Your Majesty someday.”
“It won’t happen this year.”
“No, it won’t. Everyone’s struggling to recover from the damage. But I’m sure next year’s festival will be more grand than ever.”
Heraith was struck by how Eleanor could speak so hopefully despite everything.
Eleanor’s situation was dire. Snow had suffered greatly from war and betrayal. No matter how much her people prayed toward Mount Arlan, the monsters would continue to descend on the city.
Snow had to contend not only with Owen and Osborn but also with the monsters. And Eleanor herself was as precarious as a candle in the wind within the imperial palace.
Yet as she examined the sandwich brought by the clerk, none of that hardship showed on her face.
“It’s a smoked meat sandwich. Have you eaten, Your Majesty?”
“No.”
Eleanor took a silver dagger from her bosom, dipped it briefly into the tea, then stabbed it into the sandwich to check for color change.
The way she then casually wiped it and returned it to her garment was so smooth that anyone unfamiliar would think it part of proper dining etiquette.
“You even check for poison when you’re outside.”
“And Your Majesty suspects poison to the point of not eating at all.”
Eleanor picked up a slice of the sandwich and took a bite. She chewed thoroughly before swallowing, then said with a pause.
“No poison. Would you like some?”
Heraith stared at the sandwich Eleanor had bitten into and asked,
“Are you serious? You’re offering me something you already bit?”
“Some poisons don’t react to silver. There’s no better way to check than having someone taste it first.”
Heraith narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Do I look like someone who would use another’s life to save my own?”
“Of course not. It’s just my own selfish wish. I wanted to share a meal with Your Majesty.”
It was a meager lunch to call it that, but Heraith, in an unusually light mood, reached for the sandwich still sitting on the plate.
“To survive in the imperial palace, you should wish for something a little more extravagant than this.”
“What could be more extravagant than sharing a meal with the most noble person on the continent?”
For the first time in a long while, Heraith ate something from a shop in the capital. Not since he’d nearly died eating with his swordsmanship teacher in a busy district as a child had he done so.
The sandwich at the teahouse was inferior to what the palace chefs made. The bread was dry, the butter barely there, the cheese was flavourless, and the meat tough.
And yet, for some reason, it tasted surprisingly good.
***
Empress Dowager Stephanie tapped her fingers on the armrest. Her long nails made a rhythmic ‘tok, tok’ sound as they struck the wood.
Everything was perfect.
She had sent another assassin to Heraith’s bedchamber last night. As always, the attempt failed, but that had been expected.
Heraith killed the assassin and dumped the body in the garden of the Empress Dowager’s palace, tightening security at both his own palace and the Empress Dowager’s—one for defense, the other for surveillance.
‘If something were to happen in the main square right now…’
Heraith wouldn’t be able to respond quickly.
‘Even if he received a report, he might think it’s a lie from someone trying to kill him, and hesitate. By the time he realizes it’s real and sends knights, many people will already be dead.’
Royalty from many countries had gathered in the city to enjoy the Empire’s New Year’s Festival. The plan was to execute the grand scheme tomorrow, when the princes of the Kingdoms of Kabeno and Herd would also arrive.
The plan would begin as the princes passed through the center of the bustling square. They would die, caught in the tearing force of the rift.
Kabeno and Herd were powerful nations not to be taken lightly. If their princes died and it became clear that Heraith had responded poorly, they would not stand idly by.
Even Heraith, who had withstood every blow so far, would not be able to fend off both internal and external attacks simultaneously.
