Chapter 26
Though she was nobility herself, she had heard of their notorious reputation. Loan sharks were vicious. When people couldn’t repay, they would sell them as slaves to foreign countries. One loan shark had even demanded flesh near the heart if payment wasn’t made on time—practically a death sentence.
While there hadn’t been much trust to begin with, now it had hit rock bottom.
“Despite knowing we wouldn’t trust her, she approached us this way, which probably means…”
[I dare to request Your Highness to reopen the investigation of Gilrota’s case.]
Damian recalled how Camilla had looked him in the eye without wavering as she spoke. She seemed accustomed to dealing with royalty. Yet she also appeared to have something she was confident about.
She had certainty.
Damian continued:
“She must have something to back her up.”
The letter was probably genuine. Most of Camilla’s words were likely true as well.
“…But can we really trust her?”
Ayla was skeptical. All they knew about Camilla was a business card. Could they really trust her? There was another possibility—what if Camilla was closely connected to the mage, and this was all a trap to lure them?
In that case, they could end up like Gilrota.
“Ayla, I understand your concern. But shouldn’t we verify things first if we want to know the truth?”
“Verify what?”
“If this is a trap…”
Damian smiled at those questioning purple eyes.
“Then we’ll gladly walk into it.”
* * *
Though he really hated it, truly really really hated it, he was just a noble, and the one making the not-quite-request was the empire’s one and only Crown Prince. He had no choice but to do as told. First the Duke’s daughter, now the Crown Prince. Michael reflected on his past. What had he done to deserve this…
By Monday, rumors would surely spread. Those who didn’t know the ridiculous comedy’s inside story would whisper. The wronged Michael considered filing for emotional damages against the ducal family but abandoned the thought, knowing it was futile.
His steps were heavy as he trudged toward the Crown Prince’s dormitory. He’d been living a quiet academic life and thought it would continue that way, but how had it come to this? Was coming to the academy a mistake? Or getting involved with the Crown Prince? Michael couldn’t decide.
Reaching the dormitory, Michael sighed deeply and knocked on the door, clutching his handwritten report.
Knock knock.
Whoosh.
Leaves rustled in the wind. Dusk was already deepening. This golden Saturday afternoon had truly been disastrous.
“…Michael?”
The door opened. The Crown Prince looked slightly surprised to see him. And somehow, Ayla was there again behind him. Had they been together since earlier? Or were they together all day for some other reason…?
Strange imaginings began blooming in Michael’s mind. The Crown Prince had directly said they weren’t dating. Earlier the atmosphere had been… somewhat suspicious, but he’d thought nothing of it. Apparently that wasn’t the case. Things had progressed this far without his knowledge.
Michael stared at them with a dumbfounded expression.
“Michael. Already finished?”
“Really? Already done? Ah, Michael. Sorry about my sister earlier. She’s just like that. Let me apologize on her behalf.”
“Ah, no, Senior Ayla. It’s fine.”
Michael waved his hands dismissively. It wasn’t fine, but he had to pretend it was. Well, he wouldn’t be seeing her again anyway. What business would he, aspiring to be a court pharmacist, have with the future Duchess of Dürman?
“But you finished quickly?”
Michael caught the nuance in his tone and look that meant ‘hand over the report and disappear quickly.’ He handed the report to Damian.
“It was short, so I finished early. Well then, I’ll be going now, seniors.”
Michael vanished quickly. Ayla tilted her head, wondering if he was busy. Damian slowly read through Michael’s report. As Michael had said, it was brief. Only a few lines were written in round handwriting:
Components: Soledina (root) approx. 58%, Unknown components approx. 42%
Estimated side effects: Central nervous system stimulation and euphoria, hallucinations, sensory disturbances, anxiety, palpitations, withdrawal symptoms from addiction.
“Unknown components?”
At Damian’s soft murmur, Ayla snatched the report from his hands and read through it. A simple report listing only components and side effects. However, it contained one major problem.
“I thought it was all Soledina, but 42 percent is unknown components? It’s not made purely from Soledina, and Soledina isn’t even the majority. How do we figure this out?”
Ayla muttered as if lamenting. As soon as they overcame one obstacle, another appeared. And not just any obstacle. She worried they might keep wandering through this maze forever.
After pondering the report briefly, Damian called to Ayla in a soft voice.
“Ayla.”
“Yeah?”
“Actually, I had a thought.”
“What is it?”
Court etiquette known to a commoner, not a noble. The boldness of someone seemingly accustomed to facing royalty. The one thing he’d recalled while watching Camilla.
“That person Camilla. I think she was an imperial civil servant.”
* * *
The House of Count Letir was originally a vassal family to the Lancaster Grand Duchy. As the Grand Duke’s knights, they earned recognition for their service in the war against the Skandi Kingdom and became the first Minister of Military Affairs of the Helios Kingdom. Many ancestors since had served as Ministers of Military Affairs, and Count Letir also followed family tradition by attending military academy. As Naval Operations Commander, the position he naturally aimed for was Minister of Military Affairs.
Until that day, when he met that mage.
Count Letir remembered that day vividly. It was a moonless night. A cold wind blew from outside heralding winter, and logs crackled in the fireplace.
Being a born soldier, he was sensitive to presences. As soon as he entered his office, he keenly detected another’s presence. Slowly drawing his gun from his inner pocket, he quickly turned and aimed. The unfamiliar man was smiling in front of the gun barrel aimed at his heart. It was no ordinary composure. But he wouldn’t be rattled by just this.
“Who are you?”
“As expected of the Count. A true soldier indeed.”
“Stop chattering and identify yourself. Or I’ll shoot.”
“Please calm down first. If I reveal my identity, will you lower that gun?”
“I’ll decide after I hear it.”
At the Count’s words, the man burst into loud laughter. “Ha ha!” Just as the Count was slowly starting to pull the trigger watching him, the gun suddenly vanished. The Count’s eyes widened enormously.
“You…!”
“Hello, Count Letir. I am a wandering mage…”
The man’s pitch-black eyes gleamed strangely.
“I am called Magus.”
Magus. It meant “mage” in the Radian language. The Count could guarantee this wasn’t the man’s real name.
The Count still didn’t know the man’s real name. In fact, he knew nothing about him. Not his name, age, or where he came from.
The man’s accent was the soft one used by young imperial nobles, and it was flawless. Every gesture carried noble bearing. Could he be nobility? Though the man didn’t hide his face, the Count had never seen it among the nobles.
The serpentine man whispered promises of unprecedented wealth and honor. And he kept those promises. He brought the Count enormous wealth. All the Count had to do was provide cover for a few gambling houses. Buildings that looked ordinary from the outside were filled with every luxury and pleasure within.
There was a saying that everything has its price. His shallow loyalty to the imperial family crumbled in an instant.
Click. Click.
The candy rolled around in his mouth. Though its taste could hardly be called good, the sensation it brought made his spirits soar.
The Count closed his eyes. What dizzying pleasure. Nothing else could bring him such ecstasy. His mind emptied, his mouth falling open involuntarily.
The man had told him:
[Count. Soon, your world will come.]
How sweet it was.
He now trusted the man completely. The man would keep that promise too.
He would become Emperor.
* * *
Pure moonlight poured down. Touching a single brick, he instantly entered. The interior, which should have been dark, sparkled with light. Though no light could enter this place, transparent flowers emitted their own radiance.
He bent down to pluck a flower. It immediately lost its light. He closed his eyes and smelled the flower. But as always, the flower had no scent.
He opened his eyes and carefully separated only the petals from the stem. With a soft sound, the stem fell to the ground and vanished. Soon, a butterfly alighted on the petals. A butterfly with red wings.
He detached one petal and gave it to the butterfly. The butterfly embraced the petal. Its red color deepened, and it fluttered its wings before flying away somewhere.
He closed his eyes again and scattered the petals on the ground while murmuring as if singing:
Flores in sepulcro regis sunt.
Omnis qui florem habet, rex fit.
[The flowers are in the king’s tomb.
Whoever has the flower becomes king.]
It was the song his father had sung to him.
