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chapter 27
What surprised Itheln more than anyone else at Ziggkart’s words was herself. She had wanted to spend time with her mother. It was only natural. She didn’t want to waste even a single minute or second.
“But…”
Ziggkart’s questions to her mother kept swirling in her mind. He surely hadn’t asked them without reason.
“Maybe it has something to do with that curse.”
Itheln tried to follow Ziggkart out, but at that moment, Empress Meikellen called out to her in a voice that sounded both regretful and reluctant.
“Itheln, where are you going? Stay with your mother. I have so many things I want to ask about my daughter—how you’ve been all this time.”
Ziggkart glanced back briefly. It was impossible to tell whether he was looking at Itheln or the Empress.
Watching him walk away, Itheln hesitated, then had no choice but to return to her mother and rest her forehead against her lap.
“I have so many things I want to tell you too. Mother… do you remember when Father once said…”
The Emperor Wintear coughed lightly and tried to subtly pull Itheln away. Meikellen, refusing to be outdone, pulled her daughter into a tight embrace and urged her to continue with a smile.
Itheln felt warmth fill her small heart. Happiness she had never even imagined was so sweet that she couldn’t bear to stop it.
If she could live like this forever, she thought she wouldn’t mind living ten years less.
Ziggkart, leaving the Empress’s palace, pretended to head toward the temporary residence of the princess but then changed direction.
The corridor he chose was empty and had an eerie atmosphere. The pond below was not very clean either. There were reeds and lotus leaves, but the water was murky.
“Young Duke, where are you going?”
Lance’s voice came from behind. Ziggkart hadn’t exactly failed to notice he was following, but for a moment, he felt annoyed.
Running his small hand along the rough corridor railing, Ziggkart turned around.
“Lance Tash soldier.”
“Yes, Young Duke.”
“From here on, I’d like to take a walk alone. Please return first.”
Lance blinked twice. With his usual stoic expression, he answered immediately.
“I cannot do that. I am obliged to escort you. This area is especially deserted—if you were to get lost alone, it would be dangerous.”
“So you’re saying you’ll follow me?”
“That is not exactly it. I intend to escort you back to your residence.”
Ziggkart tilted his head back and smiled brightly.
“If I refuse and say I won’t go, are you planning to carry me like baggage?”
“I have not considered going that far…”
Lance lowered his gaze quietly. Ziggkart hummed as he rubbed the rough, moss-speckled railing, then strode toward him.
“Fine, follow me if you must. However, I’d like what happens from here on to remain undisclosed to anyone.”
Lance visibly flinched. From that reaction alone, Ziggkart realized again how clumsy and honest this soldier named Lance Tash was.
“…You knew?”
It was a question asking whether he knew Lance had been reporting everything about the Young Duke’s movements to Itheln. Ziggkart let out a laugh—half amused, half incredulous.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
Even after the sharp retort, Lance remained calm. He had already expected this level of reprimand.
“If you knew, then you also understand I cannot ignore your orders.”
“So you can’t overlook me going off on a little detour?”
“That is correct. For your sake as well, the Princess must know where you go and what you do.”
Ziggkart lowered his head and laughed softly.
“I see. You chose your people well. Why wasn’t it like this last time?”
“Pardon? What do you mea—”
A sudden sting of pain struck his neck. Lance couldn’t continue speaking and turned around in shock.
It had only been a brief moment when he lowered his guard to listen. But Ziggkart did not miss that instant.
Moving with a speed even Lance’s trained eyes couldn’t track, Ziggkart thrust a very thin, flexible needle into his neck and pulled it out again.
“Yo-Young Duke… what is this…”
Lance’s knees buckled, and Ziggkart stepped back, softening his expression as he smiled.
“Sorry, Lance. It’s not poison, so don’t worry. You’ll sleep for about two or three hours, and when you wake up, half of today’s memories will be gone. But your life will be fine.”
Lance tried to say something, but his eyelids grew too heavy. Only thick, sluggish yawns came out when he opened his mouth.
With a heavy thud, the large man collapsed. Ziggkart looked around quickly to check for witnesses.
Fortunately, no one was there. Only a frog sat on a dirty lotus leaf.
Ziggkart passed through the corridor and went toward the rear of the detached palace. Beyond it lay a forest belonging to the Emperor, an area even soldiers rarely bothered to patrol.
Stepping through overgrown grass that crunched underfoot, Ziggkart headed toward a small, secluded palace in the corner.
It looked quaint, but the caretaker had clearly neglected it for years—the entrance was in disarray. Spiderwebs were everywhere, and dust covered the floors like carpet.
“…Let’s go.”
He murmured quietly and stepped inside without hesitation.
Standing in the dark corridor filled with dust and mold, he closed his eyes. Fragments of sharp memories seemed to cling, one by one, to broken windows in his mind.
Moving through the maze-like corridors without hesitation, he finally stopped after going deep west from the central hall.
There was a small room—part reception room, part study, connected to a narrow living space and bedroom.
All the furniture was covered with cloth, untouched for years, giving the place the feeling of a haunted house.
A haunted house. Ziggkart repeated the thought with a faint laugh. Quite an appropriate description now.
He stepped into the bedroom. Beneath the dull gray curtains, a long dark stain remained like the wing of an insect.
His mind grew noisy. The shouting, the screams, the footsteps…
“No, forget it.”
As if dismissing himself—or the hallucinations—Ziggkart muttered the words, then lifted the stained curtain and wedged his fingers between slightly misaligned wooden floorboards, pulling hard.
“Ah…!”
A splinter stabbed painfully under his nail. Ziggkart sucked the bleeding fingertip into his mouth, then reached under the wooden floor. It was deep enough that he had to lean down almost until his shoulder touched the ground.
His searching hand finally stopped among the dusty floor.
As Ziggkart slowly rose, a long bundle followed with a rattling sound. The black velvet wrapping it had turned the color of a sewer rat from dust.
He brushed it off casually and silently unwrapped it. Layers of velvet fell to the floor.
A bone-chilling cold swept through the dim room like a winter wind. It emanated from the sword in his hand and gathered back into it again.
“I thought no one would ever find this place.”
Ziggkart murmured in satisfaction, holding the sword and staring into the empty darkness.
With a sharp sound slicing through the air, the curtains were cut into several pieces and silently fell. Ziggkart had only taken three steps, yet more than half of the curtain was already gone.
