IDVM 46

Chapter 46

Beneath the mask, the sharp and defined face of Rahel… no, Rahedis, was revealed.

It was the unmistakable face of a grown man, no longer something that could be hidden.

Now, he lived alone, away from the ducal mansion where Kalts resided.

Ever since that day, ten years ago—on their way back to the capital, when the emperor had attacked them.

From that incident, Rahel had become, at least to the outside world, a man who was “dead.” It was his own choice.

As long as he lived, the emperor would never stop doing such things.

So Rahedis disappeared, crossing into a neighboring country, surviving as a mercenary while learning both sword and magic through real battle.

And two years ago, he returned to the empire, establishing the information guild Terrak, gradually expanding his influence from the shadows.

So that when the day came for him to reveal his true identity, not even the emperor would dare lay a hand on him.

So that he could protect Kalts—and Vivian.

But to Vivian, he still told her that he was in the neighboring country.

When the day came that he could stand before everyone with full strength, Vivian would eventually find out.

But for now, he could not bring himself to show her the blood on his hands, nor expose her to the brutal reality of the world he now belonged to.

“I wonder if she hasn’t written today.”

The fierce expression of the guild master vanished as Rahedis approached the drawer where he kept a journal, his face brightening with the hopeful anticipation of a boy expecting a gift.

After learning the principles of magical tools, he had taken the time to research and create his own.

That tool was a shared diary.

Made in pairs, the two diaries allowed writing in one to appear in the other, no matter the distance.

In short, it was a means of communication.

Rahedis had succeeded in creating it four years ago and immediately sent one to Vivian.

From then on, their near-daily exchanges through the diary had been his only joy.

But today, the diary remained silent.

It had already been several days.

“She said the festival lasted until yesterday, so maybe she’s resting today…”

Just as Rahedis, slightly disappointed, was about to put the diary back into the drawer, the magic stone embedded in its cover glowed blue, activating the artifact.

It meant Vivian had written something.

“This time, she’ll probably brag about how much sales she made.”

Smiling faintly, Rahedis opened the diary, expecting her cheerful words.

But instead, what was written there was something he could never have imagined.

Rahel, I’m going up to the capital.

Rahedis blinked in shock, only understanding after reading the words aloud.

“So suddenly?”

Why…?

Quickly, he grabbed his fountain pen and scrawled across the page.

What do you mean, all of a sudden?

But even after quite some time had passed, no reply came.

Vivian?

It seemed she had dropped that bombshell of a message and then simply walked away from the diary.

Rahedis felt as though he would go mad with frustration. But even after ten days, no answer came.

Igrein placed the most urgent documents neatly on the emperor’s desk and left the office.

Because of the heavy rain that had poured all night, the trees beyond the corridor windows looked fresher, greener, and the sky was brilliantly clear.

It was autumn.

But for her, the empire’s chancellor—

“With all this rain, will it be a year of poor harvest?”

—it was nothing more than another source of worry.

As she walked the corridor, thinking of how best to prepare for the coming winter, a familiar figure approached.

Though his hair was now more white than black, his bearing still exuded the power to overwhelm younger men with ease.

It was Kalts.

“Thanks to our diligent chancellor pouring her very soul into governing the state, His Majesty can go on hunting trips with a light heart.”

His words cut at the emperor, who shirked his duties and went hunting nearly every day.

At the same time, they teased Igrein for enduring such a ruler without complaint.

Through her glasses, Igrein’s violet eyes narrowed.

“Yes. Because of a certain someone who dumped a heavy responsibility on me, I can’t even rest.”

“Let’s be precise—I didn’t dump it on you. You volunteered to take it.”

Even after Isella’s disappearance, Kalts had continued serving as chancellor, supporting the emperor and managing state affairs.

But when Isella reappeared with Rahel, he voluntarily stepped down from his position.

Igrein had tried to stop him.

[Please reconsider, my lord. I understand it must be difficult, but if you step down, what will happen to the people?]

Both Kalts and Igrein knew that Orfen was a tyrant.

But since they could not replace him, it was the powerless commoners who would suffer most in the chaos. That was why Kalts chose to serve as chancellor—to act as a buffer.

If another greedy noble from the emperor’s faction were to take that seat, the state of the nation would surely worsen.

Despite her pleas, Kalts resigned anyway. And not only that…

[I recommend Igrein Rowsweed as the next chancellor.]

Though the recommendation was only his opinion, and she could have refused, Igrein ultimately decided to shoulder that heavy burden.

At first, the nobles scoffed openly at the idea of a woman serving as chancellor. But now, none dared treat her lightly.

Fifteen years had passed like that.

“Perhaps your younger brother never returned because he wanted to dump that dreary responsibility onto you instead.”

“You say that as though you know my brother well.”

As far as Igrein knew, Kalts and Dain had almost no connection.

Despite being a viscount’s heir, Dain had always found politics dull and had devoted himself solely to the role of knight commander.

But Kalts’ words were not entirely wrong.

[The head of the family’s seat suits you better than me, sister.]

He was always trying to push the successor’s role onto her.

Perhaps it was because he understood what it meant to live with her abilities suppressed, simply because she was a woman.

“Well, maybe I know him a little better than you think.”

Momentarily lost in memories of Dain, Igrein brushed it off as one of Kalts’ idle jokes and shifted the subject.

“You look much better now that you’ve dumped that dreary position on me. Leaving court early like this, too.”

“I’d love to stay and listen to more of your grievances, but I’m expecting a friend from afar. I need to go meet him.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Replying in her usual indifferent tone, one that Kalts often criticized as arrogant, Igrein suddenly paused at a certain word she had just heard.

“…A friend?”

“What? You thought a cranky old man like me couldn’t have any friends?”

The reason she was surprised to hear Kalts say “friend” wasn’t just because she sometimes thought that way.

It was because, in truth, Kalts had almost no one he could call a “friend” without hesitation.

For one who had always lived above all others—save the emperor—commanding and ruling, the word “friend,” implying equality, felt awkward.

“I am curious what kind of person could possibly get along with you.”

“He’s as sharp as you, but unlike you, very cunning.”

A rare smile tugged at Kalts’ lips as he thought of that “friend.”

“I’ll introduce you, if the chance arises.”

Just then, the bell tolled the hour.

Leaving Igrein with a word of encouragement, Kalts departed.

Igrein turned back toward her office, where yet another mountain of paperwork surely awaited.

But just as she arrived—

“My lady!”

Urgent footsteps approached.