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Chapter 13
Secrets and Lies (5)
Clutching Bledin’s journal tightly to her chest, Berenice hurried back to her room.
She quickly changed clothes, climbed onto the bed, and pulled the blanket over her head.
If anyone entered now and glanced at the bed, they’d simply think she was asleep under the covers.
Lying there for a moment, listening carefully to the sounds around her, Berenice finally reached under her pillow for the hidden magic tool, Lampfire.
A tiny spark flickered to life — not bright, but just enough to illuminate the space in front of her.
It was a magic tool with an extremely small range and weak light, so people rarely used it.
“I used to rely on these cheap things when I was on the run.”
Because the light was too dim and it couldn’t even ignite a cigarette, it was considered one of the most useless tools — a typical failure of magical craftsmanship that nobody wanted.
But that very weakness was now its greatest advantage.
“I have enough time.”
Still under the blanket, Berenice sat up, made a little space, checked the tool’s remaining operation time, and then pulled out Bledin’s journal and sword.
Each time the faint flame wavered, shadows danced along the pages and the blade, quietly asserting their presence.
“Let’s start with the journal…”
She had inspected Bledin’s sword several times since leaving the capital but had yet to uncover its secret. So she decided to put that aside for now and focus on the new clue—the diary.
The first entry recorded the day Bledin received his knighthood and became the crown prince’s personal guard.
Even though it was just black ink on white paper, the joy and pride of that moment radiated vividly.
“So this was my brother’s special day…”
She remembered how she, as a child, had pouted and demanded to know why he wasn’t writing in the diary she’d given him.
Bledin had laughed and said it was a special gift, and he wanted to save it for a special day.
Maybe it had just been an excuse—but she could still see his smiling face, and Lowell’s laughter beside him, and their parents watching the three of them fondly.
“…Focus, Berenice.”
Ever since she turned back time, she found herself drifting into nostalgia more often.
Before, there had been no time for such thoughts — only survival.
Feeling she was getting complacent, she shook her head to scatter the sentimentality and returned her focus to the journal.
As expected of someone who never liked writing much, Bledin’s entries were irregularly dated.
Some were just a few lines; others filled several pages.
But there was one common pattern —
Whenever the entries grew longer, the crown prince was always mentioned.
She already knew Bledin had been a devoted follower of the prince, but not this much…
“Our family does tend to… get a bit obsessive when we care about someone.”
She could easily imagine her brother’s overzealous loyalty leading to trouble — and likely not just once.
The image of Bledin’s innocent grin after causing some childhood mishap flashed across her mind, making her cover her face and sigh quietly.
No matter how much she loved her eldest brother, it was still embarrassing.
“…If Father had read this, he would’ve been mortified, so don’t take it personally, Brother,” she whispered softly, almost as an apology.
Then she eagerly flipped through the pages again.
But even after going through most of it, there was nothing of note — just more glimpses into Bledin’s private life, which left her feeling vaguely guilty for reading them.
Then, after turning several more pages—something changed.
The writing itself was no longer readable.
“This is…!”
Berenice’s eyes widened in realization.
It was a kind of cipher, created using magic.
Bledin must have anticipated the possibility of the journal falling into the wrong hands and prepared a safeguard.
“The problem is, without the decoding tool, I can’t read it either…”
This kind of cipher required a specific paired artifact—a ‘key’—to unlock the encrypted text.
One lock, one key. There were no spares.
“What should I do?”
She was sure the information she wanted was hidden right here.
As she set the journal on her lap, lost in thought, something caught her attention—
The jewel embedded in Bledin’s sword shimmered faintly.
More precisely, one tiny gem on the scabbard began to glow.
“Wait… could it be…?”
Half-doubting, she brought the journal close to the light.
With a soft crack, the jewel disintegrated into dust—
And the cipher transformed, letters rearranging into ordinary Imperial script.
“If I hadn’t had the sword, I never would’ve been able to read it.”
Realizing how lucky she’d been to find Bledin’s sword first, Berenice stared at the place where the gem had vanished, then turned her gaze to the journal.
…His Highness’s nightmares are getting worse…
The tone of the writing had shifted completely.
Words like nightmare, sleepwalking, seizures, hallucinations, visions filled the page — even reading them made her feel how dire the crown prince’s condition had been.
But…
“Until the news of his suicide broke, no one knew he was unwell.”
No matter how much they tried to hide an illness, it was nearly impossible to conceal it completely.
For it to have been hidden so perfectly meant that either his attendants were utterly loyal, or the prince himself was an exceptional actor.
“From this diary, it seems… both.”
And then, one word stood out more than any other — addiction.
Bledin was convinced the prince had been poisoned.
The details weren’t written, but he must have conducted some kind of test.
Apparently, he couldn’t identify the exact toxin.
“Even so, it’s strange… The Emperor did nothing?”
The current Emperor was known as a ruthless man who ascended the throne over his brothers’ corpses.
Yet, he had dearly loved his first Empress, Trista, and their firstborn son, Crown Prince Lucadin Manus — the very image of his mother.
So for him to do nothing while his beloved heir was slowly poisoned—it didn’t add up.
Unable to solve that puzzle for now, Berenice kept reading.
As the entries continued, the crown prince’s condition worsened.
The unidentified poison spread; even the temporary antidotes failed.
The prince was dying — and so was Bledin, a little each day, watching helplessly.
Then came mention of a suspicious outing.
Late one night, the prince dismissed even his personal guards—including Bledin—by order, and secretly rode off in an unknown carriage.
He returned just before dawn… and threw himself from a window.
What followed in the diary was chaos—
In a single page, Bledin blamed himself, raged, doubted, and grieved.
All in one breath.
“Bledin…”
Feeling his despair almost tangibly, Berenice closed her eyes briefly, steadying her heart, then reopened them to the last line on that page:
Who was it that His Highness met that night?
Bledin was convinced the crown prince had met someone during that secret outing.
There had been a carriage waiting, prepared for him, and the prince had boarded it without suspicion — suggesting the person involved was someone from his close circle.
Did Bledin find out who it was?
Berenice quickly flipped to the next page.
It spoke of the prince’s funeral—
and there, she saw Kaiden’s name.
…Before His Highness’s coffin, the Second Prince knelt, silently weeping. Biting his lips to stifle any sound, he gripped the coffin with both hands, tears falling silently… Kaiden Manus — the younger brother whom His Highness loved dearly. The one he worried about endlessly for staying away at war… Did His Highness know that, at his own funeral, that brother would weep without a sound?…
Later, rumors spread.
The crown prince’s death was not suicide but murder—
and that the culprit was none other than his loyal knight, Bledin.
A traitor who betrayed his master and led him to death.
That rumor destroyed their family.
By the time Berenice chose death herself, Bledin’s honor still hadn’t been restored.
But Kaiden… seemed to have believed otherwise.
Because when he finally caught Berenice, his question hadn’t been “Why did you kill him?” but—
[Did Bledin Wiltierra truly betray his master — Crown Prince Lucadin Manus of Egonid?]
Yes. That was what he’d asked.
Resting the journal on her lap, Berenice rubbed her stiff neck, recalling Kaiden’s pale, sickly face back then.
He had been trying to confirm something through her.
If Kaiden had discovered the hidden truth about the crown prince’s death before her regression—
and needed her to prove that Bledin wasn’t the murderer—
“Now that I think about it… his face back then…”
She murmured to herself, eyes widening as realization dawned.
“Right… he looked just like… someone poisoned.”
