DRRS 33

Chapter 33

Early in the morning, the imperial palace was more bustling than ever.

“There’s no time—hurry!”

“His Majesty said only close attendants should see him off. Is it really okay for us to go?”

“Of course. If we’re not his close attendants, then who is? Besides, there are already people showing up just to watch someone else’s misfortune.”

“I don’t even need to hear it—I can already guess who showed up. What kind of nonsense will they spout this time…?”

“That’s exactly why we should be there. Otherwise, they’ll just run their mouths without thinking.”

Amid the murmuring, everyone moved as if by prior agreement—heading toward the same place.

To see off Lucian, who was suddenly departing for the North.

“Lady Medeia, I think we should go out as well.”

Claire, who had been watching through the window, finally spoke.

Even beyond the palace staff, the outside was already crowded. Some had come sincerely to see him off—

But others had gathered to mock the nobles who had fallen into their own trap, or to witness what might be his final moments.

After all, Lucian’s abilities were unknown, and going to the North at this time was no different from walking into certain death.

“…Alright.”

Medeia stood, picking up the handkerchief resting on the table.

Unlike her still-hazy childhood memories, the violet flower embroidered on it was now almost perfectly formed.

“I should go too, right?”

Meril let out a deep sigh.

She already found it irritating enough having to run into him every time she came to see Medeia—now she even had to go out and see him off in person.

Still, after coming and going to the palace so often, it would be strange not to show her face on a day like this.

In this palace, Medeia’s closest person was effectively Lucian’s as well.

“…I suppose we have to. Let’s go.”

She already knew the answer herself.

Meril hurried after Claire and Medeia.

At least, for a while, she wouldn’t have to meet that unpleasant gaze—that was her only consolation.

* * *

Amid the crowd filling the palace gates, the nobles began to appear.

They were the very ones who had plotted to send Lucian to the North—only to be dragged along themselves.

Their faces were filled with dread, as if their execution date had already been set.

“I never thought I’d go to the North in my lifetime!”

“And not for any ordinary matter, but to subjugate monsters?!”

“I heard only a handful ever return alive—we’re as good as dead!”

“If I run into a monster, I’m running. The rest of you can fend for yourselves!”

“Do you really think you’ll be able to run?”

“Ugh, if only Duke Griddy hadn’t…!”

Amid the flood of complaints, countless gazes turned toward one man.

The middle-aged man, whose face practically screamed greed, was shouting angrily while pointing at someone.

“Vivian! Where is that girl?!”

“I—I definitely saw her in her room last night…”

“You saw her? Didn’t I tell you to prepare her and bring her here?!”

“All the servants searched, but we couldn’t find her.”

“Do you even realize what day this is?! You should have searched until the very end! What were you thinking, coming here alone?!”

“I-I thought it was my duty to inform you first…”

“You call that an excuse?!”

“Miss would never break a promise. If we wait just a little, she’ll definitely come.”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

Just as Duke Griddy raised his voice again—

“Y-Your Majesty.”

The nobles who had been glaring at him moments ago immediately bowed.

Even Duke Griddy and the maid beside him lowered their heads in haste.

But Lucian didn’t spare them a single glance.

Instead, he walked straight toward one place.

Though his steps were steady, his face was as desolate as the cold wind.

“…My lady.”

His low whisper was directed at someone.

To those unaware, it might have gone unnoticed—but those who knew understood exactly who he was addressing.

“…Is he out of his mind?”

Meril muttered, louder than intended.

Even she only used that title when alone—yet he dared to say it so carelessly?

Even if it was quiet, if anyone heard it, it would be dangerous.

Curiosity. Suspicion. The past.

Any of those could shatter everything in an instant.

Meril glared at Lucian with the sharpest look she could muster.

“…Medeia.”

The sudden change in address wasn’t because of Meril—

But because of the faint discomfort that flickered across Medeia’s indifferent violet eyes.

It was also a form of pressure.

A proposal of sorts:

If she would call him by name when they were alone, he would call her by name in return.

Lucian was demanding her answer.

Instead of replying, Medeia held out the handkerchief.

The violet flower embroidered on it mirrored her eyes.

But Lucian didn’t move. He simply stared at her.

“…Ha.”

Meril let out a dry laugh, having seen through his intentions.

Unable to keep her hand extended forever, Medeia stepped closer.

“I hope… that when you see this, you’ll think of me.”

The brief silence spoke the truth.

It was nothing more—and nothing less—than her answer to his request.

“Give me something that will remind me of you.”

“I trust you understand where I’m going.”

Instead of taking the handkerchief, Lucian stepped closer and met her gaze.

No one here was unaware of how dangerous the North was at this time.

And yet, he spoke it aloud anyway.

“This may be the last time we meet like this.”

Even though it was something that wouldn’t happen to him—

The reason for saying it was clear.

“…Medeia.”

His voice, barely audible, was filled with longing.

“…Lucian.”

Ten years had passed.

The man before her had become emperor.

She had become a rebel, wandering from country to country.

Calling each other by the names of the past should have meant nothing now—

Only pain, and memories of those who had been sacrificed.

She had sworn never to call him by that name again.

But perhaps it was the wind that seemed to dig into her chest—

Or the sorrow in his eyes today—

That made the name slip past her lips.

For a fleeting moment, they stood close enough that the handkerchief brushed his fingertips before they parted again.

Whether she had stepped closer—or he had—neither knew.

But one thing was certain:

An unfamiliar emotion had shaken her to her core.

* * *

For some, it was an eternity.

For others, just the blink of an eye.

To those watching, Lucian had merely exchanged a brief conversation with one among many.

Even the handkerchief Medeia gave him was quickly tucked away—unnoticed by most.

“He’s putting on quite the pitiful act.”

Except for two people.

One of them was Meril.

Standing beside Medeia, she had witnessed everything.

She had long since guessed the contents of their whispered exchange.

No doubt he had used that ridiculous act to get exactly what he wanted from Medeia.

Watching Lucian walk past her after leaving Medeia, Meril struggled to suppress the crooked smile tugging at her lips.

“Your Majesty, have a wonderful trip.”

The sincerity slipped out naturally.

Of course, Lucian didn’t respond.

No—

It almost felt like he gave her the same mocking look he once had as a child.

For a moment, she wondered if she had imagined it, her gaze following him briefly.

But Lucian, having already gotten what he wanted, quickly disappeared into the distance.

Meril soon turned her head away.

Meanwhile, within the crowd—

A rumor began to take shape.

“Isn’t that the granddaughter of Count Kesenne?”

“She seems quite close to His Majesty.”

“Well, considering it’s the Kesenne family, that’s understandable. It’s one of the few prestigious houses.”

“No, I mean more than that—they don’t seem like ordinary acquaintances!”

“Exactly! Didn’t His Majesty just smile earlier?”

“Vivian? I think she’s far better than Duke Griddy’s youngest daughter. Much better!”

And that rumor—

Was destined to grow like a snowball.

Growing larger and larger,

Until Meril herself stepped in to clear the misunderstanding.