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chapter 12
The banquet finally ended late at night.
Although there had been several disturbances, everything had wrapped up without any major incidents.
Hella thought it had gone quite well.
But there was still one task remaining.
“Dravaltin.”
In the vast Empress’s chamber, Hella’s low voice echoed.
“Yes.”
Dravaltin, standing behind her at the vanity, quietly replied, looking at his mother reflected in the mirror.
“George knows.”
“…….”
“That you are not of royal blood.”
Dravaltin flinched slightly.
“We sent people to Azteca to quickly cover it up, but as long as George remains alive, this danger will persist.”
Hella continued.
“In a situation like this, where anyone could say nonsense at any time, what do you think your duty is?”
Only then did Dravaltin realize what his mother intended for him.
“You want me to….”
Dravaltin’s voice broke slightly as he slowly moved his lips.
“To kill George.”
“Yes.”
Hella replied with satisfaction.
“This will also give you a clear understanding of your circumstances.”
Hella had always handled killings herself. It had never been particularly difficult. The frail Emperor was powerless, and no one in the palace dared question Hella when she decided to eliminate someone.
The reason she now forced her own son to do it was simple.
Dravaltin kept irritating her at intervals—small things like still keeping someone useless like Asha close to him, or the guilty expressions he couldn’t hide whenever she eliminated someone to secure his throne.
He felt emotions he had no right to feel, despite being supposed to follow only his mother’s will.
Hella wanted to make it clear: he would never have any freedom, whether physical or mental.
“Everything depends on you, Dravaltin.”
“…….”
“I’ve come this far. If you even slightly mess up what I’ve planned, I will personally take your life without hesitation.”
Dravaltin remained silent, merely watching the noose of control his mother had always placed around him.
“You are not just a son—you are the seed of my vengeance. Never forget that. And a seed that cannot sprout is worthless.”
“…….”
“I will handle the aftermath. Go now and eliminate any complications, then return.”
Do you understand what I mean?
Dravaltin nodded slightly.
He thought: now that Hella had made up her mind, there was no longer any place left to run.
The banquet had long ended, yet Celestine was still in the palace—or rather, she could not bring herself to leave.
‘I’ll at least make sure Dravaltin meets Asha and then leave.’
She was worried. If she appeared and disrupted the events, Dravaltin might fail to receive the comfort he needed and plunge into ruin.
‘In the original story, Dravaltin killed George and then met Asha in the Crown Prince’s palace.’
Knowing it was best to stay unnoticed by Hella, Asha did not attend the birthday banquet. But feeling guilty for not celebrating even her birthday, she secretly went to find him late at night.
Being a princess, Asha was aware of how things operated in the palace and quickly realized what had happened to Dravaltin. Without asking a single question, she simply stayed by his side throughout the night.
‘It should be somewhere around here…’
Yet no matter how she looked, she could not see Dravaltin or even his shadow.
‘Could they have already met?’
The timing seemed too tight for that.
Should she just leave?
Celestine hesitated, glancing ahead.
‘The direction toward the forest behind the palace…’
If she remembered correctly, that was the path Dravaltin would take returning after killing George.
‘Should I go there? Or not?’
Just as she was about to leave, a faint movement reached her ears.
Startled, she looked toward the end of the path—and recognized the source.
It was Dravaltin Bacalar, walking toward her with a pale, shocked face, his body smeared with blood, mismatched with the otherwise solemn expression.
Celestine forgot even to breathe, staring dumbly as he approached.
“…….”
Though their eyes met, Dravaltin did not speak. He merely stopped in place, staring at her.
A suffocating silence fell between them. After a moment, Dravaltin slowly, heavily, began walking toward her.
“……George had quite the interesting story to tell.”
When he reached her, Dravaltin grabbed Celestine’s wrist with force, pinning her against a corner.
“He said a woman claiming to be Grace Antiana, daughter of the Antiana Marquis, took him to Lethe.”
“Th-that….”
“And that he was struck on the head with a blunt object and lost consciousness.”
‘Damn George…’
If you’re going to die, just do it quietly instead of babbling to the end.
“Answer me properly, Celestine Winsel.”
“…….”
“What do you know, to what extent, and why did you try to stop George?”
From his violet eyes, she could feel clear intent to kill—but not only that.
Fear for his actions, confusion, anger with no direction, utter exhaustion—it all showed in shadows on his face.
Strangely, Celestine noticed these more than the sharp murderous intent.
And seeing Dravaltin, who raised his metaphorical spines like a hedgehog despite his state, made her feel… oddly sympathetic.
Even laughably so.
“Answer…!”
“Will you return to the Crown Prince’s palace as you are?”
Celestine’s sudden question made Dravaltin pause.
“The Crown Prince would be aware, but even in the palace, there may be maids planted by other consorts or princes.”
“……What?”
“So wouldn’t it be better to avoid returning looking exactly as you do now, after what you just did?”
In a small voice, Celestine continued:
“If I were the Crown Prince, I’d return to the forest, to a place like a lake, and erase all traces.”
“…….”
“If you want, I can go with you. It seems you have many questions you want to ask me.”
Since Dravaltin had likely heard everything from George, he could no longer pretend to know nothing, as he had until now.
And this was still the palace. If Hella saw him with her… Celestine knew her life would be in danger.
Dravaltin looked at her quietly for a moment, then tightened his grip on her wrist and began pulling her along harshly.
