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Chapter – 11
Jwibangul swallowed nervously, then carefully chose his words before answering.
“Y-You’re incredible. But I can’t say anything about my master.”
…I figured as much.
Still, if I picked my questions carefully, there were surely things Jwibangul could answer.
“I’ll be going to the Crown Prince’s Palace in a few days.”
His eyes widened at my astonishing progress.
“What—already?”
“Once I complete Request No. 2, I’ll immediately be able to find out the contents of Request No. 3, right?”
That was the conclusion Raphael and I had reached after putting our heads together.
If the details of the third request could only be revealed after completing the second, then we needed to finish the second as quickly as possible to buy time.
Request No. 2 felt unsettling, but there was a good chance that Request No. 3 would be absurdly difficult.
Yet for some reason, Jwibangul looked flustered.
“Well, um… that’s true, but hiding a pouch in the Crown Prince’s bedroom… can you really pull that off in just one day?”
What a morale-killing thing to say to someone whose entire life now revolved around that very task.
“Hey. Do you want me to fail?”
Jwibangul shook his head frantically, his face drained of color.
“No, I—I truly….”
After rolling his emerald-like eyes around, he said,
“I hope… you succeed.”
And then, all of a sudden—gag—he retched.
Oh for heaven’s sake. Again…!
“Damn it!”
What, even wishing for my success is forbidden speech and a breach of contract?
What is this?!
At this point, doesn’t your master just straight-up want me dead?!
***
At the same time, in the Emperor’s bedchamber.
Kalision stood before his adoptive father, who lay weakly in bed, able only to blink, and recounted the events of the past few days.
“Oh, yes—two days ago, the Princess of Bristol arrived to attend the banquet. I heard she was sickly in childhood, much like myself. Her Imperial language skills are rather poor, which seemed to amuse the social circles.”
“Cough… my son.”
The adoptive father, who had been listening silently, finally spoke.
“Yes, Father.”
“Since your health is fragile… the Crown Princess must be a healthy child… brought in.”
Kalision knew perfectly well whom his father had in mind, and whose influence lay behind the suggestion. Still, he did not let the smile leave his lips.
“I will see to it.”
“You will be very… cough! busy for the next month.”
“It was something I would have had to face eventually. I will handle it well, so you needn’t worry.”
The Emperor’s violet eyes, fixed on his only son, looked dull and unfocused.
Considering that in his youth he had been a conqueror who absorbed Bristol and Leicester into the Empire, time truly spared no one.
The illness that had begun long ago had worsened drastically over the past few years, to the point that leaving his bedroom had become nearly impossible.
In the mornings, even his mind was clouded, so Kalision had taken to paying his respects in the evenings instead.
Even then, only three or four times a week.
The court physician warned that the Emperor’s strength had declined dangerously and advised reducing official engagements as much as possible.
Though he could not be a perfect shield for his son, a living Emperor was still the Empire’s axis.
Because his father had endured until Kalision came of age, Kalision had managed—somehow—to survive and retain his position as Crown Prince.
His feelings toward his father were, to be honest, complicated.
He loved him, and in some ways respected him, yet had also resented him through countless moments.
“You look tired. I will take my leave now.”
When the Emperor slowly nodded, the attending servant prepared the medicine.
Only after watching the servant half-raise his father to administer it did Kalision step away.
But just as he was about to leave the Emperor’s chambers and head toward the Crown Prince’s Palace, he heard multiple footsteps approaching.
For a group to dare approach the sick Emperor’s quarters en masse, it was obvious who they were.
Still, Kalision deliberately slowed his pace until they came quite close, and only then greeted them as though he had just noticed.
“Uncle, you’ve come. Unfortunately, Father has just gone to bed—I was on my way out. What a shame.”
The gloom that had hung over his face vanished, replaced instantly by a perfectly drawn smile.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”
Archduke Artsen—the Emperor’s only brother—bowed before Kalision.
Behind him followed the personal guards he had retained since serving as Regent, despite no longer holding that position.
The Archduke spoke regretfully.
“It seems His Majesty retired earlier than usual today. I merely wished to offer a brief greeting, so I can return another time.”
Of course, he knew better than anyone that this was precisely when Kalision visited his father.
Kalision knew that he knew—and yet lowered his brows as though unaware.
“What a pity. Father would surely be disappointed to miss you. Please do come again soon.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I shall.”
“Then, I will also—”
Kalision inclined his head and attempted to withdraw, but before he could even take a step, the Archduke stopped him.
“I hear you’ve been working quite hard these past few days entertaining Bristol’s distinguished guest.”
“Ah, it is my duty.”
Kalision looked at his uncle with an innocent gaze, emptied of intent.
The Archduke gave a slightly troubled smile at the nephew who had grown tall enough to look down upon him.
“It seems there is some dissatisfaction among the nobles. They say Bristol dares to covet the position of Crown Princess by sending a daughter who cannot even properly speak the suzerain’s language.”
Kalision tilted his head as though hearing this for the first time.
“Is that so? The young people of high society seem to find even such clumsiness charming—I hadn’t noticed.”
“Haha. Do you feel the same way, Your Highness?”
At the direct question, Kalision allowed some of the smile to fade from his face. He had long known that his uncle supported Hilais, but he hadn’t expected him to apply pressure so openly.
“I have no intention of letting personal feelings dictate the selection of the Crown Princess. Bristol has many strengths, so I simply do not intend to exclude her over something as trivial as language fluency.”
“Indeed, a wise judgment. This timid uncle merely worried that Your Highness, longing for the golden eyes of the late Empress, might have let his vision grow clouded.”
How dare he bring up my mother?
Just as Kalision’s brow twitched, the Archduke bowed deeply.
“The idle curiosity of an old man detained Your Highness unnecessarily. It is late—please return and rest comfortably.”
Suppressing his displeasure, Kalision replied with a radiant smile.
“It was good to see you after so long, Uncle. Please visit often. Then, if you’ll excuse me.”
As he turned away, the corners of his mouth twisted slightly—then immediately curved back into place as he became aware of his surroundings.
The tension drained from his fingertips.
The Crown Prince’s Palace felt terribly far away.
***
Later that night, at an inn in the capital.
Raphael finally received the news he had been longing for, from Jane, an assistant at the lace workshop.
“She looked perfectly fine, you say? Healthy?”
“Not just healthy—she was stunning. Honestly, she was far too beautiful to stay hidden in some backwater like Basewater….”
Since he couldn’t reveal the truth, Raphael had lied, saying that April turned out to be the daughter of a neighboring country’s duke.
Jane had initially scoffed at the absurdity—until she was given a handful of gold coins, at which point she promptly corrected her attitude.
“To think Lady April was a hidden princess. This secret will go with me to the grave.”
Lovely and convenient, that golden omnipotence.
After that, she eagerly agreed to join the plan.
“She looked so perfect standing beside His Highness the Crown Prince!”
Raphael felt a flicker of irritation at Jane’s continued chatter, but held it back and asked again,
“Did the Crown Prince… seem to treat April well?”
