FMLDM 63

Chapter 63

The Prince’s Conspiracy

“They say… he’s dead.”

“What…?”

“They’ve concluded that the cause of death was suicide.”

“…!”

Seira… dead? If she had attempted suicide under someone’s orders, they would have profited from it. From the circumstances, the likelihood of her death being a murder was high.

‘Rainer Kraide.’

There was no way he would have let Seira’s mouth remain free. Once the target is dead and cannot speak, eliminating evidence would naturally require killing the ‘hound.’ Seira was likely that disposable hound. The Empire newspapers Momont handed me were filled with reports of Seira’s death:

“It has been revealed that Macaron Kraide, the Prince’s attendant, was found dead… Imperial investigators have stated that the cause of her death was suicide… The suicide note reportedly contained content related to depression caused by severe discrimination.”

From the headline alone, the article invoked Macaron Kraide and was written in a way unfavorable to both Macaron and me. A dizzying realization of being one step too late flashed through my mind. Given that there had even been articles speculating on the Second Prince’s death, it was clear that all eyes would focus on this incident. I felt foolish for not anticipating such an action.

Seeing that Rainer had even controlled the media to orchestrate this, he was more meticulous than I had assumed. By making me a shield against suspicion over Seira’s death, he managed to escape unscathed. Killing one’s own brother to seize the throne was not uncommon—but to sully Macaron’s honor and attempt to annihilate everyone around him even after he was presumed dead… Rainer’s cruelty was obvious without needing to see it firsthand.

Even speculative articles alone caused a major stir among the Empire’s public opinion.

The situation deteriorated. Some articles even painted me as the one who killed Macaron. As the Crown Prince Selection approached, my reputation plummeted, and Macaron, unable to endure it, revealed that he was alive to quell the chaos.

‘Revealing it now would be satisfying.’

I could clear my name and restore my reputation. But if it became known that Macaron was alive, he would likely postpone the Crown Prince Selection, and I had no way of knowing what Rainer might do. Above all, if we waited just a little longer, everything could be reversed. Macaron was furious at the daily slander against me, ready to tear down the media if he could. After restraining him several times, he finally returned to prepare for the Crown Prince Selection.

With the event approaching, the mansion became a hive of activity. I spent my time assisting him, learning the procedures from records of past Crown Prince Selections, memorizing the names and ranks of the nobles, and studying precedents of previous Crown Prince consorts. One bitter observation remained: among all past consorts of the Romanti Empire, none had come from a rank lower than Count. I had struggled to adapt to the hierarchy initially, but now I understood its importance. Nobles with a sense of privilege would certainly view me through tinted glasses.

Although the Crown Prince Selection primarily tested the prince’s abilities, the position and rank of the consort also held weight among the nobles. Macaron’s greatest weakness was objectively me. Uneasy as I was, I strove to stand by his side even more—so that even when viewed through those colored lenses, I could reveal my true self.

As I organized the books and studied political trends, preparations for the Crown Prince Selection gradually neared completion. Meanwhile, Macaron’s “death” had become accepted as fact. Now it was time for him to reveal his claws.

Time passed, and finally, the day of the Crown Prince Selection arrived.

I wore a pre-selected black dress from morning, exuding a refined yet dignified aura. Activating the Black Swan Changer I had made for today, my makeup evoked the elegance of a black swan: pale, almost translucent skin, darker eyeliner than usual, uplifted eyes, curled lashes, and matte rosy lips. The result was a face that would command attention without appearing overly harsh.

Since the journey and ceremony might present unexpected events, I left the children behind. I felt at ease knowing Eve stayed with them, but being separated for so long made me anxious. Watching the children shrink into the distance as the carriage passed the long garden, I waved back at their brave little hands until the carriage rounded the corner and left the mansion. Macaron, on the opposite side, waved back just like I did.

Soon, the carriage left the Kraide estate, revealing unfamiliar landscapes. I finally realized we were heading to the Imperial Palace. Just thinking about standing before the nobles, all eyes on me, made my hands sweat. Noticing my silent tension, Macaron held my hand firmly.

“There’s no need to be nervous. I’ll be by your side.”

“….”

“No one will dare say anything to the Consort.”

The warmth of his large hand seeped into mine, sending shivers through my heart. A brief, ridiculous thought that I could skip entering the hall if nervous made me smile faintly. After that, Macaron seemed to tell endless amusing stories to calm me. I felt grateful and, at the same time, apologetic that he was doing so much for me despite his own stress.

Once we left the estate, I rested briefly to conserve energy. When I opened my eyes, my nose was resting on Macaron’s chest.

‘What do I do?’

A flurry of thoughts ran through me: Did I drool? Snore? Sleep with my mouth open? Surprised, I rose slowly, trying to appear calm.

“Awake, are you?”

“When was I here?”

I quickly averted my gaze to the window, feeling slightly embarrassed. A rush of cool air balanced the heat, and I realized the surface I’d slept on had felt solid—like a washboard—but somehow it had been Macaron’s chest. Not only was it surprisingly firm like armor, but it hadn’t moved an inch despite the rocking carriage. Even during sleep, he had maintained perfect stillness.

“….”

When I nudged him, he exhaled slowly, as if frozen ice magic had been lifted. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

‘Did he not sleep at all because I was resting on him?’

Feeling guilty, I activated the Changer on his face to restore a lively appearance.

“You should have rested too…”

“I’ve slept enough.”

Though his face looked flushed, it seemed more from fatigue than anything else. I raised my head and saw the first glimpse of the large, golden-hued building—the Imperial Palace—shimmering with vibrant light and lined with Rococo-style architecture. The carriage finally stopped at the palace entrance.

Escorted by Macaron, I stepped out and was awed by the majestic building. Inside, imperial symbols, floral motifs, and animal sculptures adorned the walls, culminating in a dragon statue. Passing several identical structures led us to the Grand Hall. The noise inside indicated that a meeting with the emperor and nobles was underway.

The Crown Prince Selection was a major event held once in decades in the Romanti Empire.

Normally chaotic, today’s tension was split clearly between factions. Nobles aligned behind Rainer had grown in number, moving quickly to stake their positions. Yet, not all had shifted. Those loyal to Macaron still believed he was alive. With no official announcement from the Kraide estate, a somber mood hung among Macaron’s supporters. Taking advantage of the uncertainty, Marquis Kellan spoke first.

“Your Majesty, only one candidate has arrived for the selection.”

“….”

“Shall we proceed with the ceremony immediately?”

Murmurs followed Kellan’s words, but no one dared step forward. Everyone knew Rainer’s ruthless nature, and no noble would risk their family’s future recklessly. Silence fell, and all eyes turned to the throne, where Emperor Soletin Kraide sat with an ambiguous expression.

“Wait.”

As the father of a potentially lost son, the Emperor’s knowledge of Macaron’s survival was crucial. Nobles watched closely. The Emperor showed none of the sadness expected from a father, only his usual dignity. And he said to wait.

‘That can only mean Macaron is alive.’

The nobles exchanged glances, trying to gauge the situation. The expression of Empress Ashle remained tense, as did Rainer and his wife, Raylin. Then, the doors opened, and bright light filled the hall.

“Prince Macaron has arrived.”

Everyone in the hall turned in shock.