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Chapter 48
“Did everything go well?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
Cillia stepped out and faced Marcella once more.
The names on the list that included the surname Ahaim were all forcibly erased. It was as if a spell had been placed so that every name containing that family name vanished automatically.
“I can’t be sure if Cronnel’s name was there or not…”
She couldn’t say for certain — some of it might just have been her imagination. Still, the most recent three entries had all belonged to people with the surname Ahaim.
“…Princess Marcella isn’t the culprit, at least.”
After all, allowing Cillia access to those records was essentially helping her find the suspect. Not only that, the princess had even made sure she had enough time to look around freely.
And when she had spoken of her family, her tone had been full of pride and affection — and her kindness toward Cillia had been the pure, innocent goodwill of a young girl.
If she thought about it logically, the princess had no motive. She was far too young to attempt something like that, and her position in the line of succession was distant. Her mother’s family, too, was from a minor noble house — the king’s first wife, the crown princess’s mother, had come from a powerful one, and the current king, Tucker Ahaim, had suffered quite a bit because of it.
“Right, he chose his second wife from a small and powerless family because he feared the influence of another powerful wife…”
It was ironic, considering that the one who had weakened the royal authority through repeated poor governance was the king himself. There had even been jokes that the only reason the royal authority hadn’t fallen further was because the king had grown too ill and frail to do anything at all.
“Come to think of it, his reputation wasn’t much better in my previous life either.”
The soldiers’ tendency to gossip about their king hadn’t come from nowhere. From what Marcella had said earlier, he didn’t seem to have any intention of mediating his sons’ conflicts. His temperament was the same as ever.
At any rate, it was unlikely the princess had been the one in those records. Once Cillia reached that conclusion, there weren’t many suspects left.
“The most likely remaining Ahaim…”
…was the Crown Princess.
She could enter even the restricted archives freely and had enough authority to erase or alter records about her visits. She could remove or “borrow” whatever material she wanted without anyone questioning her — perhaps without even needing to conceal it.
And then there was one other person who had been nagging at Cillia’s thoughts.
“…His Highness the Second Prince hasn’t been around much lately, has he?”
Cillia asked Marcella carefully. She didn’t want to think about that possibility, but she couldn’t afford to ignore any of them — even the ones she disliked.
The Second Prince was known for his obsession with magic. He had approached her under the pretext of wanting to learn, and during the Tower incident, he had even defied his disciplinary order to rush out — saying there was someone he needed to save.
Which made little sense, given that he had no real ties to the Mage Tower.
“…If I look purely at the facts, he’s just as suspicious as the Crown Princess.”
Cillia reluctantly admitted that to herself as she looked at Marcella, who puffed her cheeks out and nodded.
“I know, right?”
“Doesn’t he usually visit you often?”
“He’s been holed up in his room. He hasn’t come out at all. His confinement order ended the day before yesterday.”
Cillia smiled bitterly.
“That’s strange.”
“Right? Especially for my brother!”
For any other prince, it might not have been so odd, but for that reckless troublemaker to stay locked in his room without contacting anyone… it was unusual. Cillia felt a pang of disappointment.
“He’s always pestering me when I’m busy, but now of all times, he disappears?”
Cillia shook her head. Thinking about it wouldn’t help right now — not until she knew more.
“But why would someone bother refining and spreading the blood of monsters?”
To throw the capital into chaos? Or…
[With refined blood, one can grow………]
Whatever the goal was, it was something dangerous. She needed to tell the others soon.
Cillia inclined her head to Marcella.
“I’ll repay your help someday.”
“No, please don’t turn it into a debt. I don’t want my goodwill to become that. You’re surprisingly stubborn, you know.”
Marcella struck right at the heart of it, and Cillia gave a rueful smile.
“I suppose I am…”
“And I think you try too hard not to owe anyone.”
That was true as well. After spending so long living under the weight of debts — financial or emotional — she hated the idea of owing anyone anything ever again.
“But I hope you’ll remember that some people like you simply for who you are. Like me.”
Marcella grinned brightly, her face lighting up with pure childish sincerity. The sight melted Cillia’s wariness a little. There had been young soldiers on the battlefield — barely older than Marcella — serving as errand-runners or assistants.
“Then I’ll gladly accept that.”
“If you must feel indebted, then feel it toward my brother instead. He’s only been this bold lately because of you, you know.”
Instead of voicing her doubts, Cillia simply smiled and bowed. Marcella laughed and skipped away toward the exit of the secret archive, where an older woman — likely her nurse or attendant — was waiting with a gentle smile.
Watching them, Cillia smiled faintly and prepared to return to the Diamand estate. She planned to continue her quiet investigation for a while longer.
At least, that was her plan — until she arrived home, where Flier approached with a tense expression.
“This message was delivered discreetly, milady. Lord Riman Jaykal has regained consciousness.”
The next morning, the Diamand household had a carriage ready for her. It was still dawn, and dew clung to the ground.
The Tower Master was already seated inside when Cillia, hastily dressed, climbed aboard.
“You’re early.”
“I thought it would be best.”
“Oh my. You must really care for Riman. I knew you two got along.”
“…That’s not what this is about.”
Cillia quickly summarized what she had discovered. The Tower Master’s lips curved into a knowing smile.
“That alone is a major breakthrough. Let’s hope Riman remembers something as well.”
“Yes. And we need to move fast. Once the nobles—and especially the royal family—hear he’s awake, they’ll start their own investigation.”
She didn’t need to explain further; just thinking of all the people who had camped outside the Diamand estate made it clear enough. The royal family would undoubtedly pry into the incident, whether officially or not. No one believed their “reduced” public report would stop the matter from being investigated.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Riman gets seized for questioning the moment he wakes up.”
“Don’t worry. The Jaykal family is stronger than most assume.”
“And besides, he has your protection, doesn’t he?”
The Tower Master smiled warmly at that.
“I look after my disciples. Oh, that reminds me—I have something for you.”
“For me?”
When she extended her hand, the Tower Master placed a ruby pendant in her palm. Flier Diamand, sitting nearby, raised an intrigued brow — he recognized it as the pendant he had once given her.
“I borrowed it before, remember? I wanted to examine it.”
“Yes, I remember.”
It had been shortly after her arrival at Diamand House. He’d said he wanted to study the gem’s magical structure, and she’d agreed without much thought. Now, as Cillia looked closer, realization dawned.
“…You inscribed a magic formula onto it yourself.”
A strong, vibrant magical aura emanated from the pendant — far more powerful than the tourmaline necklace she’d worn before.
“Yes. But I won’t tell you what kind of spell it is.”
“Is this an assignment, then?”
“Not exactly. But wouldn’t it be more fun to find out for yourself?”
The Tower Master’s mischievous smile said enough. It was definitely not a simple enchantment. Still, a pendant imbued by the Tower Master herself was practically a treasure equal to a castle in value.
Flier, beside her, blushed as if honored. Cillia gave a faint, amused smile. She really had surrounded herself with good people.
“Still, be careful, Cillia. Riman just woke up, and he’s bound to be on edge.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that.”
The Tower Master’s concern was understandable — she was probably worried Cillia might push the boy too hard.
“You can relax, I won’t—”
“Oh. We’re entering Jaykal territory now.”
“Here?”
Outside, there was nothing but dense forest. They had driven far beyond the capital’s outskirts. Does he really live out here?
Before she could finish the thought, the carriage suddenly charged straight toward a tree.
And then—
Thump.
With a soft sound, the surroundings changed completely. A vast manor appeared before them. Glancing back at the tree they had just “passed through,” Cillia murmured,
“An illusion barrier. Now that I know it’s there, it’s actually rather thin. Only ordinary folk would be fooled.”
“Indeed. Such concealment spells are technically forbidden within the capital,” the Tower Master said wryly. “But given the circumstances with Riman, they must’ve been granted an exception.”
A little farther in, the trees cleared to reveal a wide drive leading up to a large estate.
The Tower Master leaned in slightly and whispered,
“From here on, you’ll be dealing with mad magicians.”
“As if I haven’t been surrounded by them already.”
Cillia thought dryly. The Tower Master herself was one, after all.
“So be careful. If you’re careless, you might lose more than your patience.”
Considering this was coming from the woman who had once dragged her into the Mage Tower by force, it was a bit rich.
The carriage rolled to a smooth stop before the grand gates.
An elderly man with a splendid white beard stood waiting to receive them, his aura quietly radiating formidable magical power.
He bowed deeply.
“My grandson owes you a great debt.”
