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Chapter 26
Medeia had been taken to the underground prison of the Setanell Imperial Palace.
People brought here for various reasons were called out one by one for interrogation.
Their treatment would depend on whether they were spies for the Pareisa Kingdom or not, but since none of those taken had ever returned, Medeia could hardly guess what awaited her.
“Next, you!”
It was now the turn of the man who had been imprisoned right next to Medeia.
Whether it was confidence in the fact that he was not a spy, or the relief of escaping the cramped space, the man’s expression as he stepped out of the cell was calm.
“Don’t dawdle! Move quickly!”
Having spent a long time crouched in a narrow space, the man moved slowly. The guard, seemingly irritated by his sluggishness, shoved him roughly, and Medeia caught his gaze.
Disheveled hair, tattered clothes here and there…
Even with sunken cheeks, Medeia remained composed.
“Next is you.”
The guard stopped midway and peered through the bars, locking eyes with Medeia.
A chilling smile spread across his face, as if he found amusement in the situation.
The man beside her, immobilized by the guard’s halt, looked at Medeia with pity in his eyes.
In the underground prison, where only a single streak of light entered, her silver hair shone.
Just possessing that hair color was enough to decide Medeia’s fate.
Yet despite the contrasting gazes of the two men, Medeia remained calm. In fact, knowing she was nearing the end brought her a strange comfort.
She would no longer suffer from the guilt of failing to save those taken by her father’s hand.
Though it saddened her that she would never see the tearful pink eyes that once looked up at her.
“Wait… soon, you’ll be taken too.”
The guard, apparently losing interest due to Medeia’s unshakable calm, dragged the man away roughly.
However, the turn the guard mentioned for Medeia never came.
On an unusually grim day, a storm of blood swept through the imperial palace.
“Give it to me! That’s ours from the start!”
The Second Princess, enraged after the First Prince seized the blue glass orb, shouted.
The Third and Fourth Princesses, who watched from the side, rushed toward the First Prince.
“When was this orb ever yours? That orb was offered to the royal family by that half-blood! As the rightful heir, it belongs to me!”
“Do you not remember the emperor’s words about changing the heir? By that logic, it belongs to me, brother.”
“No. Can you even handle that immense magical power? I must take it, as I can actually control magic!”
The First Prince quickly defended himself from his sisters, but the Second Princess snatched the orb, and the Fourth Princess pulled it with her magic.
“What are you doing!? Give me the orb immediately!”
Even the emperor’s shouts couldn’t stop the bickering.
“It’s mine! Mine!”
“Give it here!”
As the orb changed hands multiple times, it slipped from the First Prince’s grasp and hovered in midair.
“Catch it!”
But the orb fell rapidly toward the floor.
In an instant, cracks spread across the glass orb with a shattering sound.
Despair painted the faces of the royals, yet they could do nothing.
The blue light leaking from the fissures wrapped around them like a trap.
“No!”
A single scream echoed as a deafening roar engulfed the entire palace.
After the enormous roar shook the palace, much in Setanell changed.
The details remained unclear, but all the royals present in the palace that day lost their lives.
At that time, the missing Third Prince appeared, and amid the chaos, he stepped toward the emperor’s coffin without hesitation.
As if it were the natural course, he placed the crown onto the head of the late-arriving Fifth Prince.
The ascension of the half-blood emperor, Ian de Setanell, who had never been considered for succession, had begun.
“Did you hear? The new emperor was rumored to be cruel and sinister even as a prince.”
“Tell me about it. I worked in the Fourth Prince’s palace. No one didn’t know the rumors. Some even saw him speak of it himself.”
“The triplet princesses once visited the palace to befriend him, and he hurt them with magic?”
“Of course! Even his mother fled because she couldn’t endure the Fifth Prince’s temperament! She was gentle, yet even she couldn’t manage him…”
“Perhaps the Third Prince didn’t ascend the throne by choice.”
Soon after the emperor changed, the underground prison guards were replaced.
Unlike before, the new guards were less harsh, seemingly preoccupied with chatting among themselves.
They were not there to interrogate but merely to watch the prison.
From this, Medeia immediately understood how quickly the new emperor’s world was taking shape.
Soon, she would meet the death she had long awaited.
“…Is there… someone here?”
“Yes, at the far end… over there.”
Faint voices reached Medeia’s ears as she closed her eyes peacefully.
Before she could listen closely to their conversation, she drifted into a deep, dreamlike state.
“Miss! Miss!”
“Please don’t abandon me, Miss!”
“I won’t overstep again! Please, Miss!”
A long time ago, it had been the last moments with a child who had served her as a master.
Countless children had passed through Medeia’s hands, all fleeing at the slightest change in their master’s heart.
But Lucian—the child—looked back with eyes full of longing, even crying as if Medeia had abandoned him.
In the end, she had given him freedom rather than binding, yet even now, she wondered if that child’s deep, lake-like eyes had found peace.
Medeia stared coldly at the chains that had become part of her wrist.
Then it happened.
A creaking sound, and distant voices reached her ears.
“Is there a noble from the Renear Kingdom here? Does that even make sense? Why would a Renear noble be here, far from Setanell?”
“Normally a noble might be safe, but if they committed a crime, it’s different. Especially if it’s treason.”
“Then why must we take a foreign traitor…? They should be executed immediately.”
“You dare speak! How could you not know of this person, even after staying abroad so long?”
“Could it be… the one Prettash always spoke of…?”
“Yes! Not a traitor, but the traitor’s daughter. …Do not make mistakes in front of her.”
Medeia immediately realized they were talking about her.
In this underground prison, she was the only child of a Renear noble and a traitor.
Yet her violet eyes betrayed no emotion.
As if she had anticipated this moment, her gaze remained calm and indifferent.
Footsteps stopped, and shadows fell darker across Medeia.
The people before her had blocked the streak of light entering the cell.
“Are you the noble of Renear?”
One of the voices reached her ears—polite, careful, unlike the scolding guards before.
“…I am.”
Her dry lips moved slightly, and she spoke the words at last.
“If I am correct, you are… the daughter of the traitor, Duke Alec Leshanin. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
The violet-haired man did not hesitate, and Medeia’s reply was quick.
Even learning that a stranger knew her identity did not surprise her.
The man with flaxen hair beside him, however, could not hide his astonishment.
“What is your name…?”
“Medeia. Medeia Leshanin.”
Again, her answer was swift.
Everyone around her seemed equally shocked, exchanging glances.
Finally, the prison door, firmly shut for months, opened.
“Someone is here to see you.”
The violet-haired man guided her in, his voice now even more courteous.
Though she was a prisoner—and a traitor’s child from another kingdom—her treatment was strangely dignified.
The chains biting into her thin wrists reminded her of her position.
“Please wait here a moment.”
Passing through a maze connected to the underground prison, they reached a lavish doorway.
It was immediately clear that whoever lay beyond was among the highest-ranking in the empire.
Not long after the violet-haired man entered, he returned to carefully call Medeia.
“You may enter.”
Medeia nodded slightly and stepped forward.
The moment both her feet were inside, a strange wind blew from within, and the door closed firmly.
Despite the noise, Medeia did not flinch.
She only waited, watching the chains around her wrists, anticipating the approaching footsteps.
“…Medeia Leshanin?”
The voice, now directly in front of her, carried an inexplicable persistence.
“Yes. I am Medeia Leshanin.”
For an instant, her fingers trembled subtly, but the fear was gone when she spoke.
After this moment, she would find eternal peace.
Still, her gaze remained fixed on the chains, awaiting the next words—words that would bring terror to some, yet unparalleled calm to her.
