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Chapter 24
“I finally met her. I really did.”
A bony hand moved busily.
A dreary voice echoed softly.
The old woman muttered something incomprehensible, then flinched and turned toward the door, swallowing hard.
It seemed a guest was on the way.
Listening to the light but precise footsteps, the old woman squinted against the sunlight streaming in as the wooden door creaked open.
“Well, well. I heard you were dead, but you’re surprisingly spry.”
Crack. The old woman twisted her face grotesquely, glaring with sharp eyes.
“Belly.”
At the sound of her name, the woman pulled back the hood that had covered her face.
Fiery red hair, striking and unforgettable after just one glance, tumbled out.
Somehow, it felt like Belly was very familiar with the old woman.
“How did you get here?”
“I’m your granddaughter. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to find where my own grandmother was?”
Belly smirked faintly, her tone practically mocking the old woman.
“Thanks to you, I was able to sneak in as a lady-in-waiting to the queen.”
The old woman didn’t answer, only stared intensely at Belly.
“Being a sorceress… If I got caught, I’d be dead. But as long as I’m not caught, it’s quite useful.”
“Belly… that power isn’t something to be used recklessly.”
“Why not?”
Belly’s eyes curved sweetly into crescent moons.
“You know why I’ve come to see you, don’t you?”
The old woman turned her head, refusing to respond.
She clearly knew the reason but didn’t want to say it out loud.
Perhaps angered by the silence, Belly bit her lip and grabbed the old woman’s frail shoulders, forcing her to face her.
The serene composure Belly had kept until moments ago had vanished—her eyes had flipped with rage.
“All this time, I thought my child was dead! When I came to you near my due date! If it weren’t for that child, I would’ve died myself!”
“……”
“But now, a hidden princess has appeared in Nesheld. And they say you were the one who raised her.”
Madness and fury burned in Belly’s eyes as they bored into the old woman, who swallowed hard.
“How could you hide something like that even from your own granddaughter? The girl who was with you that day—she was the princess, wasn’t she?”
“If you had looked for me after that day, you would’ve known. I never hid her.”
The old woman’s shameless reply made Belly laugh bitterly, clenching her teeth.
A low growl leaked out between them.
“While investigating your connection to the princess, I found something strange. A clue that my son might still be alive.”
“He’s dead. He’s dead, that child!”
“Grandmother!”
As the old woman yelled, Belly thumped her chest in frustration, shaking her head. She had come already certain of the truth.
“My son—where is he? He’s alive, isn’t he!”
Belly believed the old woman had taken her child.
She didn’t know the reason, but she had truly believed her son was dead.
She had sent him off, believing he died without ever once holding him properly.
She missed him terribly, and just the thought of him would bring on a creeping guilt that tortured her endlessly.
Holding back tears, Belly demanded answers, her bloodshot eyes fixed on the old woman.
“My son… tell me where he is, right now.”
“He’s a child whose father you couldn’t even name!”
The old woman shouted in return, and Belly fell silent, unable to refute that point.
Her face still showed clear resentment.
It had all happened because of one drunken night.
But Belly had truly loved her child. Even the man she had met for the first time after entering the aristocrat’s house as a servant.
Her heart would flutter whenever she saw him.
There was a class difference between them, but hadn’t all bourgeois nobles once been commoners?
So when she told him she was pregnant with his child, she had genuinely believed he would accept her and the baby.
“A baby? If you give birth, leave the child and go. I’m not marrying a maid I had a fling with.”
That cold, cruel mockery—those words that felt like a blizzard slapping her face.
Belly fled immediately.
The only relative she had left was her aging grandmother.
Even that relationship was strained because of the power of sorcery that flowed through her blood.
Still, her grandmother was the only person Belly could trust.
She fled from the aristocratic family’s guards, hiding until her due date.
By then, her health had deteriorated severely, and her water broke, putting the baby’s life in danger.
Fortunately, she arrived just in time.
“P-Please save us… my baby…”
That’s what she’d said before collapsing.
When she woke up, the old woman told her the baby had died at birth.
Belly had never forgotten that day.
“The child is dead. You came too late.”
“…Liar.”
Belly shook her head, denying the old woman’s words.
Tears that had welled up now streamed down to the floor.
The old woman turned her face away, unable to bear the sight of her broken granddaughter.
Belly was stubborn. Once she made up her mind, she never backed down.
It was her strength, but also her greatest flaw.
The old woman was certain that trait would someday put Belly in danger.
Still adamantly denying the obvious lie, Belly’s voice burned with anger.
“I’ll find my son. No matter where you’ve hidden him. I will find him.”
Tsk, tsk. The old woman clicked her tongue inwardly, eyeing Belly disapprovingly.
“For now, I’ll be content just knowing my son is alive.”
“……”
“But if anything happens to him, I won’t sit still. I’ll expose the spell you cast on Princess Hestia—Queen Nesheld’s sister.”
“Good heavens, Belly! Just mentioning that—!”
“Oh yes. Nesheld would be in an uproar, wouldn’t it? Who would’ve thought? The royal family hunted down sorcerers, but it turns out the current queen killed her own sister with sorcery and took the crown.”
The old woman’s face contorted in horror.
“That’s why you’ve been hiding all these years from the eyes of the royal family, right?”
Belly grinned sideways, folding her eyes that glimmered with madness.
“Let’s hope I never have to say it out loud. Truly.”
“……”
“Until then, live a long and healthy life.”
Grandma Mashal.
Belly muttered and left the musty hut.
She looked like she couldn’t bear to stay another second in that place where not even a single beam of light reached.
Bang! The door slammed with fury.
The old woman collapsed where Belly had stormed out, letting out a deep sigh.
She had known this day would come.
Yes. A mother’s love can’t be controlled.
But still… still. The old woman closed her eyes with unease.
Once Belly found out what state her son was in now, her fury wouldn’t end here.
Mashal, the grandmother who believed Erne was dead, was still alive.
Erne didn’t know it yet, but this was the beginning of a grotesque zombie tale. The dead kept coming back.
＊＊＊
Mashal stared at a single white hair fluttering atop her desk, her face far paler than before, and her hands trembling violently.
Calm down. For now, the child was growing up in the safest place in all of Nesheld.
Rubbing her face to suppress her trembling emotions, Mashal looked visibly more fatigued than before.
Not only must Belly never find out, but above all—the Queen of Nesheld must not find out.
“My foolish granddaughter, Belly… Please, stay quiet.”
Her elderly voice was hoarse. After a hacking cough, Mashal rubbed her wrinkled hands roughly.
It had been completely unexpected for the princess to flee the royal palace, but the Stars were tracking her diligently—she would be fine.
Even as she tried to soothe her pounding heart, Mashal’s legs gave out and she slumped to the ground.
“My child… why was he raised by you, Mashal? You’ll have to explain everything in detail.”
“It’s not what Your Majesty thinks. What desire could an old woman like me have, to kidnap a princess and raise her?”
“Then?”
“I didn’t know. That she was Your Majesty’s daughter. If I had, I would’ve gone straight to you.”
The day the Queen tracked down Erne’s whereabouts and visited the hut, she had confronted Mashal with furious eyes.
“Ha. And I’m supposed to believe that? I’d sooner believe a stray dog can play chess. That sounds far more reasonable.”
“If it’s a dog enchanted by sorcery, I wouldn’t rule it out.”
“Mashal! Are you threatening me over what happened that day?!”
The Queen of Nesheld was particularly sensitive to the word sorcery. As her voice rose, Mashal coughed and shook her head.
“Absolutely not. I truly didn’t know she was the lost princess. I simply took in a child abandoned in the forest of Lank.”
“Would you believe that if you were me?”
The Queen’s icy sarcasm stabbed into Mashal. Her ferocity felt like it would devour her on the spot—but she didn’t press further.
Outside, hurried footsteps echoed—tap, tap, tap—and the Queen rose to her feet, giving one final icy warning.
“If you lie to me, make sure it’s convincing to the end. If I find out later that you deceived me… I’ll kill you myself.”
Mashal knew the Queen very well.
She never made empty threats.
That was exactly why Mashal had faked her own death.
