9.

“This is the place.”

At the end of the short corridor on the second floor, Cedric politely gestured toward a wooden wall. A small painting of a seascape hung there.

When Cedric lifted the frame, the long-sought symbol was revealed, carved into the wall behind it — identical to the one engraved on the door of his mother’s safe.

“We searched further in case there were traces elsewhere, but found nothing more.”

Cedric’s added explanation did not reach Kaian’s ears. He carefully traced the symbol with his hand. The finely carved lines between the wood grain felt vividly distinct.

It was the only matching mark found after searching the entire continent. It felt like one of the few traces his mother had left in this world.

As he slowly ran his hand across it, lost in thought, the wall suddenly sank inward.

There’s something here.

Sensing it was no ordinary mechanism, Kaian pushed the symbol further. The wall rotated halfway along its vertical axis, revealing a hidden space beyond.

A secret mechanism in a place like this…

Hidden devices were common in the palace and in the mansions of high nobles — but not in a small, shabby cabin deep in the forest.

The more he saw, the stranger it felt.

“Your Majesty, I will inspect it first.”

“No.”

Kaian stepped inside.

At once, the torches mounted on the walls ignited by themselves, casting light across the room.

This chamber is layered with complex magic.

The bookshelf along the left wall stood empty, while a large map of the Lecanto Empire covered the right. And directly ahead hung a portrait.

Kaian approached it for a closer look.

It was a family portrait.

A man and woman dressed in elegant navy attire — a lavish gown and a tailcoat — sat upon refined chairs, and between them lay a swaddled infant.

Amid the unmistakable air of wealth within the painting, Kaian’s gaze settled on the child.

Its eyes, resembling pink sapphires, were identical to those of his mother, Serena.

The same symbol carved upon his mother’s safe… and now a portrait of a baby bearing her eyes.

Kaian did not believe such rare coincidences could overlap by chance.

Mother… what secret were you hiding?

Who were these people?
What connection did this secluded, suspicious cabin have to her?

If the child in the painting was his mother — how had a girl who appeared to be a noble family’s precious daughter ended up becoming a despised dancer?

Questions tangled endlessly in Kaian’s mind.

He searched the surroundings for further clues, but gained nothing of note.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. It is about time you returned.”

After some time, Cedric spoke carefully. Since this was not an official inspection, the emperor could not remain away from the palace for long — especially with the Founding Festival so near.

“Select trustworthy men and have them continue investigating this place until I return.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

For now, he would attend the Founding Festival, then secure a suitable excuse and come back to Aren with ample time.

After restoring the mechanism, Kaian forced his reluctant steps downstairs and stepped outside the cabin.

“…What is this?”

A small child stood outside the door — a boy of perhaps three or four years old.

His eyes were reddened with tears, as if on the verge of crying. Yet the moment he saw Kaian, they brightened at once.

“Hello! I’m Aeir from Fore Kindergarten! I got lost in the forest. Please help me!”

Where on earth had he come from?

In this deserted forest, the fearless child asked for help in a clear, ringing voice.

Kaian’s gaze deepened as he looked at the boy called Aeir. The child’s deep blue eyes unconsciously reminded him of Estelle.

I must be losing my mind. To see the imperial consort even in some rural commoner child…

He tried to shake off the thought with a bitter inward scoff, but it wasn’t easy.
It wasn’t just the color of the eyes — the resolute look, the calm yet firm manner of speaking, all resembled Estelle far too much for a child his age.

If we had had an heir… would he have looked like this?

He had never seen Estelle at such a young age, yet somehow this felt exactly how she must have been as a child.

Bold little thing.

Even while staring directly at Kaian, the boy showed not the slightest hint of fear.
Since ascending the throne, it was the first time a child had looked at him with such steady eyes.

“They all usually cry their lungs out.”

From time to time, young children of high nobles visited the imperial palace, holding their fathers’ hands, to pay their respects to the Emperor. Whenever that happened, children around that age were often frightened — many would burst into tears.

But this boy was different.

Even if he did not know who Kaian was, he was still a Swordmaster.
Many fully grown adults could not withstand his pressure for long.

Yet the child continued to look up at him with clear, unclouded eyes.

A strange child indeed.

***

“So… you wish to research a cure for an infectious disease carried by rats?”

“Yes. I heard rumors that a young physician named Sordan, originally from Aren, is highly knowledgeable in that field, but I have yet to find anyone matching the description. With Rodolan’s help, I hope to cooperate with him if possible.”

Estelle spoke calmly, but she was tense inside.

She still couldn’t read Zephion’s intention in pretending not to recognize her, and asking for help developing a cure for a disease that had not even begun to spread yet — under their former lord-and-retainer relationship it might have been different, but now there was no guarantee he would obey her request.

Yet she desperately needed his cooperation.

The risk of the ducal house discovering her identity — or of becoming a fugitive again — was a gamble she had chosen to take for the child’s sake.

“But, Merchant Lord. You do understand that creating a cure for an illness whose exact nature is unknown — within half a year — will not be easy.”

“I know. What compensation do you want?”

“You’ll grant anything?”

“If it lies within my ability. I cannot promise falsehoods in a partnership.”

Their exchange resembled a duel — a swift spear probing for weakness against an unyielding shield.
Their gazes clashed in the air, and silence lingered for a moment.

“Very well. Then if I find this man called Sordan, you will give me two afternoons each week until the cure is complete.”

An unexpected request.

‘I would rather avoid facing him whenever possible.’

Had it been gold or trade goods from the merchant company, she might have welcomed it. From Estelle’s standpoint, however, this condition was far less agreeable.

“I assumed you would ask for gold bars or trade goods — perhaps the glasswork from Deutsche Island.”

“Immediate wealth matters less than gaining a capable ally.”

Though Estelle subtly tried to steer the negotiation, Zephion was not someone easily swayed. Realizing this, she presented another condition.

“The entire afternoon is too long. How about two weekdays, from one to three-thirty?”

She could not miss Aeir’s pickup time.

And the longer they spent together, the greater the risk of him uncovering her secret — or of the ducal house discovering her existence — so she had no intention of giving him extended access.

“Additionally, I have no wish to invite scandal. I would like our meetings restricted to this reception room alone.”

If she could not avoid him, then she would instead use the situation to read his intentions — on ground favorable to herself.

“Very well, Merchant Lord. I will present the man you seek as soon as possible.”

Zephion accepted her terms without objection.

“Shall I take my leave for today? It seems you have another appointment waiting.”

As expected — he was exceptionally perceptive, especially when it came to reading Estelle.

Ordinarily, she would never have shown even the slightest opening. But with Aeir involved, she had unconsciously glanced at the wall clock.

“Thank you for your consideration, Zeon. I apologize — I’m pressed for time today. Let us speak properly next time.”

“Yes, Merchant Lord.”

After personally seeing Zephion off, Estelle returned to the reception room.

I should wait a little before leaving.

She wanted to run out and pick up her child immediately, but she worried he might follow her.
Perhaps he already knew — it would be just like him — but caution was still the wiser choice.