Chapter 20
Charlize first wanted to learn magic when she was thirteen. It was right after she’d recovered—thanks to Achilles’s magic. For three months, she thought seriously about studying magic… but then gave up.
It wasn’t just because the court mage told her she had no magical power. The Empress had kept her mind busy with other things, distracting her on purpose.
“I was told I didn’t have any magical energy.”
“They were wrong,” Achilles replied. “You can learn magic, Princess. But I’m likely the only one who can teach you.”
“Why only you?”
“Because… you’re special.”
Primordial mana—there were few who even knew it existed. Many mages understood it in theory, but almost none believed it was real or usable. There were virtually no active researchers of it.
That’s why Achilles believed he was the only one capable of teaching Charlize. Even the way she would learn magic would have to differ from standard methods.
‘I know divine power and mana don’t work on me.’
Only the Tower Master had been able to treat her. Charlize looked at Achilles with fresh eyes. It had been so long since she even considered the possibility of learning magic.
“I… I can really use magic?”
She had already used it once—instinctively, to survive—but Achilles hadn’t told her that.
“If you learn it properly, yes.”
Whether she’d be able to use it at will was another matter entirely. Still, Achilles believed she could. Charlize looked at him for a long moment.
‘I kind of… want to learn. But not seriously. If I told him I only wanted to try it for fun, would he get angry? I mean, he’s really serious about this stuff…’
The truth was, she already knew what she was good at. With her past-life memories and proven administrative skills, even the Emperor and Oscar had acknowledged her talent. She had once seriously considered becoming an official.
‘But I also realized… what I really love is taking it easy.’
She didn’t mind working when ordered to, but she rarely took initiative. Having died from a brain hemorrhage due to overwork in her past life, her motto now was to enjoy life while she could.
“If I could just dabble in it lightly, maybe… but I’m not really into full-on studying.”
She tested the waters, watching his expression. Achilles looked absolutely stunned. To him, magic was everything. He had assumed Charlize would eagerly want to master it.
But she didn’t seem all that enthusiastic.
And then she said, “dabble.”
Magic was not something to be dabbled in. People spent over a decade struggling to conjure even a single flame. It took endless training and study. That was magic.
‘I should be angry.’
But instead of anger… he was surprised to feel happiness.
He was confused by himself. The truth was, someone like Charlize was rare—and there was a high chance she wouldn’t be able to use magic through willpower alone.
To shape “power” from primordial mana required intense intent. When she had done it at thirteen, it was purely a survival instinct.
But now, living a peaceful, healthy life with no struggle, it would be difficult for that same willpower to arise. In a way, Charlize had the greatest potential as a mage… in the worst possible environment.
‘Still… I don’t resent it.’
He felt no jealousy. In fact, he was relieved that the girl he loved had grown up in comfort and warmth. She didn’t need to suffer as he had.
“You think so?” she asked.
Achilles looked at her calmly.
“Yes. But if you ever change your mind, tell me. You have the talent.”
Meanwhile, Empress Roxana sat alone in her chambers, deep in thought. She had sent the Emperor and Crown Prince away and was finally resting—but her mind was far from at ease.
She was convinced she hadn’t been mistaken.
Valter—he definitely had feelings for Charlize. She had seen it in his eyes more than once. At the last ball, especially, she had been sure.
‘The Tower Master… Have you even considered what would happen if that marriage goes wrong?’
If Charlize had married into the Bianchi family, things would’ve been simpler. The royal family could keep a close eye on her, and even if she moved to the Bianchis’ territory, she could always return to the capital with her guards. But marrying the Tower Master?
‘If that man abuses her in the Tower, how would we ever know?’
No matter how she looked at it, the Tower Master didn’t seem like the right choice. Even if Charlize was briefly charmed by him, it wouldn’t last. Sooner or later, she would wake from the dream.
“Someone, come here!”
When Roxana rose from her bed and called out, the waiting maid immediately entered the room, bowing deeply.
“Did Your Majesty call for me?”
“I didn’t see Viscount Bianchi at today’s celebration. Is something going on with him?”
The Duke and Duchess of Bianchi had already offered their greetings and withdrawn like the other nobles and royals. For the young viscount to be missing was strange.
The maid hesitated, her expression troubled.
“Viscount Valter is currently under house arrest for insulting the royal family.”
“Insulting the royal family? What exactly did he do?”
“I heard he caused a disturbance at the administrative palace.”
It wasn’t a crime that couldn’t be punished—but it was also the kind of incident that could’ve been resolved with a stern warning. Roxana instantly assumed Oscar was involved. Valter wasn’t foolish enough to act recklessly in front of the Emperor.
“Your Majesty… His Majesty the Emperor and His Highness the Crown Prince ordered that this matter not be shared with Her Highness the Princess.”
“Did they now?”
Roxana knew Charlize had a soft heart. Though both of her children had inherited her looks, when it came to love, they resembled the Emperor far too much. Roxana had tried everything to toughen Charlize up emotionally…
‘All I got was Oscar telling me not to bully his sister.’
Still, Charlize loved her. She knew the Empress cherished her.
‘This Tower Master is still wrong for her. I need to keep her close, where I can watch over her.’
It would be easy to lift Valter’s punishment—but the Bianchi family had always rubbed her the wrong way. She hadn’t liked how bold they became once it was clear Charlize had feelings for Valter.
“How should I handle this…”
She could already imagine how anxious they must be now. With Oscar still unmarried, maybe they had started getting greedy.
“Tell the Duchess of Bianchi to come to the palace. I’m sure she has a lot she wants to say to me.”
Roxana smiled as she gave the order.
There was no way she could just hand over a precious imperial princess to the Tower Master—not without a fight.
My son.
A rough yellow cloth was draped over the corpse. It was the cheapest kind of fabric—unbleached, undyed, meant only for the dead.
The guards pulled back the cloth covering the face, but the man didn’t recognize the body at first. He collapsed to his knees, staring at the face beneath the cloth, then crawled forward slowly.
My son… my precious son…
He was a poor nobleman, a low-ranking administrative worker. He’d had three children. One died of illness. One married and died during childbirth.
He always told himself he had no luck with children.
His only remaining son, Liam, had taken up the sword and become a knight in the service of a count’s family. A good son, proud to work near the capital so he could stay close to his father…
“Wh-who did this…? Who did this to my boy…?”
“The case is still under investigation.”
But if they were really investigating, the guards weren’t acting like it. They hadn’t asked him a single question. He didn’t even realize the tears streaming down his face.
All he could do was hold his son’s body in his arms and despair over the coldness of the corpse.
The guards had said the Count’s house would cover the funeral expenses since Liam had been part of their service, but none of that mattered to him now.
His wife had left him long ago. His only remaining family was Liam. And now Liam lay cold and lifeless on the floor. There was nothing left.
The guards kept glancing at him, expecting an outburst. But Ralph just held the body tighter, his face full of quiet devastation.
“We’ll step outside for a bit.”
“Call us when you’re ready. There are some documents we need signed to release the body…”
As one guard began explaining, another tapped him on the shoulder. Now’s not the time. Save it for later.
With reluctant expressions, the guards left the room. In the half-underground chamber that barely qualified as ventilated, only Ralph and his son remained.
…Sir.
He couldn’t even remember when he signed the forms or how they arranged to collect the body. He just did whatever the guards asked, nodding, writing, agreeing to use whatever funeral service they recommended.
He didn’t react to voices calling him. Someone had to shake his shoulder before he finally lifted his head.
Who…?
“Do you remember me, sir? I greeted you once or twice before. I worked with Liam…”
A flicker of light returned to Ralph’s eyes. He grabbed the man’s arm, not quite violently, but urgently—as if to say You must know something.
The young man looked startled but quickly scanned the room, as though checking to make sure no one else was around. His behavior was just a bit too dramatic, but Ralph didn’t notice. He didn’t have the presence of mind for details like that.
“This isn’t something we should talk about here. Let’s go somewhere more private.”
Ralph followed him without hesitation. He had to learn what had happened to his son—no matter what it took.
