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Chapter 36
“Was it Pasina? Or was it Derek?”
Erne stood at a critical crossroads, faced with a monumental choice.
Both suspects stood in fierce opposition—neither seemed likely to back down.
She already knew they were both stupid, but now the question was: who was stupid enough to poison the queen’s champagne?
Trying to guess the culprit, Erne let out a baffled laugh.
What she had heard from Marquis Damian in the carriage was downright appalling. In a word: ridiculous.
“I suspect Lady Blancer.”
“Pasina?”
“Her Majesty always said this: She’s a child steeped in inferiority from her origins. A child blinded by greed who would one day stab her in the back.”
So Mother knew that? That was unexpected.
Erne showed a surprised expression.
By now, they were close enough to see the Nesheld royal castle. Glancing out the window, Erne gave Marquis Damian a sidelong glance filled with a strange discomfort.
Something about this felt off. The nagging feeling wouldn’t go away.
First off, she hadn’t expected Marquis Damian to care so much about Pasina.
Even though he was quoting the queen, the fact that he named Pasina as the suspect meant that he had personally observed her enough to conclude she was greedy.
“Second… Even if the queen had many lovers, the marquis was known for being deeply devoted to her. But why doesn’t he seem even a little sad that she’s dead? No matter how composed he acts, can a person really be this calm?”
Erne, after all, wasn’t really the queen’s daughter—she was Yoon Daeun, possessing Erne’s body.
There was no real mother-daughter bond. If anything, their relationship had been worse than that of strangers.
So her reaction was understandable. But Marquis Damian should’ve been different.
“Then why does he seem so…”
When Erne stared at the marquis, he must’ve felt her gaze, because he turned and looked straight at her.
“Her Majesty was going to die soon anyway.”
“Ex—Excuse me?!”
At the marquis’ unexpected reply, which read her mind, Erne’s voice shot up in disbelief.
He furrowed his brows and murmured solemnly.
“I don’t even know where to begin explaining.”
His sorrowful voice floated through the air, and Erne felt a sudden pang of fear.
It felt like the train wreck of this novel’s plot was revving up again, and she was headed straight for it.
“Have you ever heard of Star-Chasers?”
Erne shook her head. It was her first time hearing that term.
“Star-Chasers… that’s what they call shamans.”
“Shamans?”
“Before she became queen, Her Majesty made a contract with one of the surviving shamans. At the time, she was pregnant—with you, Erne.”
Erne stared into Damian’s eyes, now lost in memory, and pinched the back of her hand hard.
It was a desperate attempt to shake off the looming insanity of the story.
As Damian’s nostalgic voice continued, Erne bit her tongue in frustration.
“I can’t even follow this anymore! What is this?!”
She shivered, wondering what kind of absurd revelation would come next.
While Erne was internally screaming, Damian continued his story, unfazed.
“A princess who didn’t become queen, according to royal law, had to be married off to a foreign royal for diplomatic reasons—someone she hadn’t even seen. Just a tool for marriage. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Erne was familiar with what life was like for women in medieval times.
It was a common trope in romance-fantasy novels, and even YouTube was full of tragic stories about them.
She nodded in agreement, prompting the marquis to adopt a much more serious tone.
His voice dropped even lower, heavy with emotion.
“But you were already in Her Majesty’s womb, Erne. She couldn’t be sent off pregnant like that. So her only choice was to become queen by surpassing her sister, Princess Hestia.”
“Was that how she ended up killing her sister, Princess Hestia?”
A spark of understanding flickered in Erne’s narrowed eyes as she asked.
It was a reasonable deduction. As expected, Marquis Damian didn’t respond—only silence followed.
“That’s enough of an answer, Father.”
Erne looked like she didn’t need to hear more.
She had been curious about how exactly the queen had eliminated her sister.
The idea that she used sorcery was unexpected—but it made sense. Hestia had been second in line, and Erne now understood how her mother had seized the crown.
Damian had sympathy for the queen. But to Erne, he was nothing more than an accomplice—a man who had condoned the use of sorcery and murder for personal gain.
Perhaps sensing her thoughts, Damian quickly added:
“Don’t judge Her Majesty too harshly. As the price for gaining the crown through magic, she lived with a death sentence. Her body was always on the verge of collapse.”
Now what… Wrinkles appeared on Erne’s smooth forehead.
The queen was living on borrowed time?
“There was never anything like this in the original story… What did it say about her death again?”
She racked her memory, but nothing came to mind.
“The spell began to squeeze Her Majesty’s heart. The muscles around her heart hardened day by day. At any moment, she could have stopped breathing.”
“What kind of horrible price is that?”
“That’s why she ordered me not to grieve too much when she died. Since learning the truth, I practiced saying goodbye to her, over and over again.”
Hearing this, Erne felt slightly embarrassed that she had judged Damian’s emotions by her own standards.
His even tone still carried a deep resonance of sorrow.
Especially the part about practicing farewells—that broke her heart.
She didn’t dare pretend to understand the pain he must have felt.
That strange déjà vu she had sensed from him earlier now made sense too.
Why he didn’t seem sad at all over the queen’s death.
“…So the two of you weren’t in love.”
The words came out raspy and dry.
The voice was so low and hoarse that even Erne was startled by her own tone.
“It wasn’t love—it was loyalty. Don’t be surprised that I’m not mourning her death too deeply, Erne.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know there was such a story.”
“It’s fine. Everyone carries a story buried in their heart.”
Damian looked up at the sky with distant, melancholic eyes—as if gazing into a faraway place.
Erne felt like she had poked at an old wound, and she was sorry for it.
Before she could even offer a word of comfort, Damian looked at her with eyes glistening with moisture.
“In the end, Her Majesty protected both of you.”
“…Both of us?”
Erne was nodding along when she suddenly realized something strange was hidden in his words. She hurriedly spoke.
“Wait a minute. Father, what do you mean both?”
“Ahem. I must’ve forgotten to tell you this part.”
Damian scratched his cheek awkwardly.
His expression, full of clumsy tears and an awkward smile, made Erne want to run far, far away.
“Erne. The truth is… you had a twin sister who died.”
Secret Birth: Part 2.
Erne had already sensed a plot twist was coming. She no longer had the energy to be surprised.
She simply closed her eyes, expression cold and drained.
