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chapter 17
It was rather unexpected, but Greg quietly waited for Celestine outside the carriage.
Of course, it wasn’t concern for his daughter that kept him there; he simply wanted to interrogate her about her conversation with Devaltin, bit by bit.
“Is that really all?”
Greg called out from the carriage as Celestine stepped down, moving a few paces ahead of him.
“I’ve told you a hundred times.”
Celestine sighed heavily in response.
“They just said I should keep Princess Asha company starting tomorrow and report back once a week. That’s it, really.”
“Forget that nonsense. There’s something else, right?”
“What else?”
“Well… something like, ‘I hope you weren’t hurt too badly,’ or ‘I was really worried when I heard the news,’ and maybe, ‘I’ll protect you so this never happens again.’”
The first two lines sounded plausible, even if Devaltin hadn’t actually said them. But the last one… what was that about?
“Or maybe he held your hand tightly, or pulled you into his arms and comforted you when you were sniffling…”
“This is insane.”
There was no doubt that this man suffered from some serious delusion—a chronic, obsessive sort.
“Ah, that’s it! The bit about reporting back once a week definitely has a hidden meaning.”
“…….”
“It’s his way of saying he wants to see you regularly! Even Devaltin might find it hard to express his feelings openly! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?”
He’s not that kind of person… and the one Devaltin likes is Asha. He just hasn’t realized it yet…
Frustrated to the point of despair, Celestine had no energy left to argue. Especially when the other party was such a man.
“Miss!”
The moment she set foot in the mansion, a familiar voice rang sharply in her ears. Looking up, she saw Melcy standing ahead, eyes glistening, trembling slightly.
“Are you okay? You weren’t hurt, were you?”
From Melcy’s perspective, it was a shock—both of the people she served had been taken suddenly.
“I’m fine. Nothing happened, I was just trapped for a bit.”
“It’s because of what happened back then, isn’t it?”
Melcy murmured through sniffles.
“I should have done something to stop you… I’m so sorry…”
“No, Melcy. You have nothing to be sorry for. We’re back safely anyway. So stop crying.”
Startled by Melcy’s sudden tears, Celestine awkwardly embraced her, patting her back like one would soothe a child.
At that moment, another voice rang out.
“Good evening, Miss, Count.”
The man greeting them with a faint smile was someone Celestine had seen before.
The same employee who had hit George over the head in Lethe.
And now, he was greeting people who had just escaped from being trapped in bread…?
“Ah, Bien. I just returned from the palace, actually.”
“…B…Bien?”
“Miss, my name is Bien.”
Of course. Even a minor character couldn’t have a name like that. Celestine felt a twinge of guilt.
‘Why is he here at the mansion? Is he worried about Greg, like Melcy? But to this extent…?’
Celestine looked at him curiously. Bien, however, quickly averted his gaze and spoke quietly to Greg instead.
“I had something to report, so I had no choice but to come to the mansion. I thought about waiting in Lethe, but I couldn’t feel at ease.”
Greg nodded, as if understanding, and then displayed an expression Celestine could never have predicted—serious, almost commanding.
“Melcy, take Celestine with you.”
“Yes, Master.”
“You were trapped in a filthy place, so have her washed. I nearly went insane from the stench in the carriage.”
“Well, Father… where were you trapped? In a flower garden?”
Celestine retorted, incredulous.
“Just move quickly. I have urgent matters to discuss with Bien.”
“And what matters are those? Can I listen in…?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Huh?”
“Go inside now, Celestine.”
The high-pitched, restless voice she had grown used to was gone. Greg’s low, composed tone carried an unexpectedly commanding presence.
It was completely unlike him. Celestine felt a sudden urge to gag from the sheer absurdity, but judging by the way things were going, it was clear she wouldn’t be included in the discussion.
…That man isn’t going to do anything foolish to drag me and Devaltin into this, is he?
“Come, Miss. Let’s get you inside. I’ll prepare warm water immediately. Once you soak, you’ll forget everything that happened today.”
Regardless of her suspicions, Melcy hurriedly pulled Celestine along.
‘Why is Greg acting so serious all of a sudden?’
Even as she was dragged, Celestine kept glancing back at Greg, but he had already left with Bien, leaving her no way to know what was happening.
The palace of the Yeshua Empire was massive, even by imperial standards.
A vast lake for boating at any time, a sprawling forest where one could hunt for days, and dozens of opulent castles.
The most renowned were those used by the royal family.
Built not only by architects from Yeshua but also by acclaimed architects from across the seas, these structures were masterpieces of both skill and aesthetics.
Every visiting delegation, no matter how powerful, would marvel at the imperial palaces.
Among them, the one that drew the most attention was Queen Hella’s palace, home of Devaltin’s mother.
So grand and dazzling was it that even Devaltin himself could not enter without permission.
Hella despised visitors who came uninvited, regardless of status. Those who dared defy her were either sunk into a deep lake with a heavy weight or buried in the forest with their limbs severed.
Yet Hella kept a select few she trusted closely.
“Your Majesty,”
Just like the old maid.
“Concubine Yeriel is secretly meeting with other concubines, claiming injustice.”
“…….”
“She has the support of the sixth prince, returning from his travels for the crown prince’s celebration, and his mother, Concubine Herina.”
“…….”
“There’s concern that the remaining princes and concubines might join them.”
Despite the alarming news, Hella, seated at a jewel-encrusted vanity, showed no shock.
She merely smiled faintly, gently running her long red hair down to her waist.
The maid bowed, waiting for her response. After a moment, Hella spoke.
“Very well. So she claims injustice, does she?”
“Your Majesty, she said she has lived her whole life in fear and cannot go on after losing her only son.”
“How tragic.”
Hella clicked her tongue.
“I understand her feelings. Yeriel is ambitious, and George’s death is indeed senseless and unfair. I do feel a twinge of sympathy. Isn’t that right?”
“Your Majesty……”
“So I sent her a gift just now.”
Hella continued.
“A killer who will snuff out her life in an instant.”
“…….”
“Thanks to me, she’ll reunite with Prince George in death. What greater gift could there be?”
Yeriel would be found dead at dawn, unable to overcome the grief of losing her son, having cut her own wrists.
And the other princes and concubines would be reminded: anyone who dares defy Devaltin and Hella will meet the same fate.
“Of course, she won’t thank me, but that is a generosity I can afford.”
Hella smiled elegantly. The maid quietly bowed.
“As you instructed.”
She carefully handed Hella the documents she carried.
“I have thoroughly checked and organized the family, relatives, associates, and recent movements over the past few days.”
“Good. If more is needed, I’ll let you know. You may return for today.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The maid bowed formally and left the room quietly.
Alone, Hella’s gaze fell upon the documents in her hands.
And…
“…Celestine Winsel.”
She read the name at the very top in a chilling voice.
