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Chapter 5
Unlike the previous day, the study was now brightly lit.
Desion Carlos Heizen stood in silence, staring at the mounted taxidermy birds on the wall, lost in thought.
Before his father—the previous Marquis of Heizen—died in an accident, he had once called Desion and spoken strangely.
About cuckoos.
“Cuckoos sneak into other birds’ nests, push out one of the existing eggs, and lay their own in its place. When the nest’s owner returns, it unknowingly raises the intruder’s egg as its own.”
“And what happens to the egg that gets pushed out?”
“It falls from the tree and breaks.”
“That’s cruel.”
“Nature is often cruel. But the most horrifying acts are always committed by humans, Desion.”
“The most horrifying acts are always committed by humans…”
What expression did his father have when he said that?
Desion tried to recall it—but the memory was too distant, swallowed by fog.
He turned his gaze to his father’s portrait hanging on the wall. The stern-faced man who resembled him only faintly stared back.
After a long silence, Desion spoke.
“…Did you already know?”
His voice echoed hollowly through the empty room.
“That a cuckoo had dared to place its egg inside the imperial nest?”
In the darkness, his crimson eyes gleamed.
Three years ago, Desion had discovered it.
Anastasia Janette de Panter.
The only daughter of the king, wielding absolute authority.
A refined, eloquent princess who controlled public opinion with ease.
His only student—trained directly by Desion himself in knowledge, etiquette, and statecraft.
And the kingdom’s heir.
He had learned she was not the king’s biological daughter.
It had been an accident.
From childhood, Anastasia loved anything shiny—beautiful dresses, glittering jewelry.
“Anastasia! How many times have I told you not to indulge in extravagance!”
“But Father, I’m going to be the queen someday. I need to uphold authority…”
“The authority of a king is not built on decoration!”
Despite being able to have anything she wanted, her excessive greed for luxury always seemed strange. His advice never changed her.
That day, Desion had gone to find her after she entered the royal vault without permission.
“Anastasia!”
She turned, startled, while touching a jeweled tiara placed in the center of the underground vault.
“Teacher.”
“I have warned you many times. Only the king and the officially recognized heir may enter the royal vault. You have not been declared successor, so you have no right to be here.”
Anastasia shook her head dismissively.
“Oh, you’re so strict. Officially or not, who else could be the heir? I’m the only child. Right?”
“Rules are rules.”
“How cruel, teacher.”
She lifted a ceremonial tiara decorated with gemstones.
“This is the queen’s wedding crown, right? It’s so beautiful. I’ll wear something like this when I get married too, won’t I?”
At that moment—
“Please don’t touch that…”
Desion stopped mid-sentence.
Something was wrong.
The tiara—despite the flickering candlelight—was not shining.
More precisely, the red gemstone embedded in it was not emitting any light at all.
It was supposed to react to royal blood.
A sacred artifact sent by the temple, designed so that when touched by someone of royal lineage, it would glow with divine resonance.
But now—
It remained dark.
Why…?
Anastasia was the king’s only daughter.
And yet the crown was silent.
A disturbing thought surfaced in Desion’s mind.
Is she… not of royal blood?
It was absurd.
And yet…
He went straight to the royal archives.
“Her birthday should be at the end of next month…”
He flipped through records carefully.
Then he stopped.
“…There are no records? For ten whole days?”
Every major royal event was meticulously recorded in Panter’s archives.
And yet there was nothing about the birth of the kingdom’s only princess.
The reason was known.
The kingdom had been at war with Mösen.
In the final days, the queen had been forced to flee while heavily pregnant.
And then—
The princess had been born quietly, hidden from the world.
Ten days later, the queen died.
That was all the record contained.
Something happened in those ten days.
Desion investigated everything.
Midwives. Doctors. Guards. Servants.
All of them—
Dead.
“…All of them?”
A chilling suspicion took root.
If Anastasia was not the king’s daughter, then the real princess born of the queen must still exist somewhere outside the palace.
For three years after leaving the capital, Desion searched.
He searched everywhere.
Orphanages. villages. rumors. witnesses.
But it was like searching for a needle in sand.
The only clue—
A girl with violet eyes.
Whenever he heard such rumors, he went immediately.
But violet eyes were not rare enough.
Like those of the maid he had seen yesterday.
He briefly recalled her image.
A strikingly beautiful girl.
And those eyes—
Clear like embedded amethyst.
If she hadn’t been with Eloise, he might have questioned her directly.
But she had a family.
I almost hoped for nothing.
He let out a faint bitter smile.
Knock.
Without waiting for permission, the door swung open.
“Well, you haven’t changed at all.”
A tall, lean man stepped in, golden hair catching the candlelight.
Noah Hights.
“Working alone in the dark again? You really should live a little brighter.”
Desion raised an eyebrow.
“You were supposed to arrive later.”
“And that’s all the greeting I get after so long?”
Noah dropped into a chair casually.
“I came all this way, and you should at least offer me tea.”
“Then arrive like a proper guest.”
Noah sighed dramatically.
“I came because I heard something interesting.”
“Interesting?”
Desion looked unimpressed.
“I stopped for dinner on the road. Terrible food. Truly awful.”
“Get to the point.”
“No patience at all.”
Noah leaned forward.
“The old owners of that restaurant had a daughter.”
Desion frowned.
“And?”
“She was a beauty—blonde hair, violet eyes.”
That caught his attention.
“…What?”
“No, no, don’t misunderstand. That’s not the interesting part.”
Noah smiled.
“Twenty years ago, they found an abandoned infant in a back alley—nearly frozen to death—and raised her as their own daughter.”
Desion straightened.
“Twenty years ago?”
“Now tell me,” Noah continued lightly, “does that still sound like a pointless story to you?”
