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CHAPTER 42:
Target
“Celia Brillion.”
At the unexpected name, Erpia’s face contorted with confusion.
Ileon spoke in a gentle tone.
“You must’ve seen it yourself, Your Majesty. That woman—she excites the lust of men. Young men, old men—it doesn’t matter.”
“……What does that have to do with Ben scarring Jeremy’s face?”
“Didn’t His Highness the Crown Prince publicly declare it? That Celia Brillion is his mistress.”
Ileon smiled, eyes gently creasing.
“At that moment, nearly every man at the banquet, regardless of marital status, must have turned against him. To give Avalon’s most beautiful woman the status of a mere mistress, not even a consort or wife—”
He sipped his chamomile tea gracefully before continuing.
“Trying to monopolize the flower that all desired—of course there was backlash. If he had waited until after ascending the throne, perhaps it would’ve been different. But to announce it at his own birthday celebration? It was careless.”
Erpia struggled to grasp Ileon’s point.
What did the fact that men desired that woman have to do with Jeremy’s face being ruined?
“So you’re saying that woman figured out I planned to ruin her face, and then she and Jeremy drugged him and framed me instead?”
“Surely not. She’s barely spent time in the palace. How could she pull off something like that?”
“Didn’t you just say she’s the culprit?”
Ileon smiled smoothly. He gently set his half-finished chamomile tea down on the table and spoke lazily.
“Not alone. But with help—someone well acquainted with palace affairs—it’s not impossible.”
“!”
“The person she’s closest to… isn’t that the Duke of Calypso?”
Erpia’s hand trembled as she held her teacup. It felt as if her blood boiled all at once.
“……Are you saying Ben was working for Dietrich?”
“I’m only offering the most plausible possibility.”
Ileon’s eyes narrowed faintly.
“Didn’t Your Majesty once complain to me that Ben behaved like a loner? Never speaking of his family.”
Erpia vaguely remembered saying such a thing. Ileon, being from the same noble family and always wearing a warm expression, had been easy to confide in.
Ben, on the other hand, was loyal but reserved. He spoke only when necessary.
“If Ben fell for that woman at first sight, and the two used that to their advantage—then it’s not outside the realm of possibility, is it?”
Could that really be true?
“At present, the person most at odds with the Crown Prince is also the one most connected to the culprit. A woman made mistress against her will and the Duke of Calypso, who is close to her. But of course, this is just my opinion.”
Erpia found herself completely convinced by Ileon.
After all, Ileon had no reason to harm her or her son. He was already more influential than the Emperor himself and had often cleaned up messes Erpia couldn’t handle.
“Duke, you haven’t told anyone about this, have you?”
“How could I go around spreading something like this? I’m not even royalty.”
Ileon’s firm tone reassured Erpia even more.
Of course, she was boiling inside at the idea that Dietrich—the man she had long coveted—might have done such a thing, but she kept her expression composed.
“As expected, there’s no one like you. Could you perhaps find a way to restore Jeremy’s face? He refuses to listen to me. I’d appreciate it if you could talk to him separately.”
Ileon nodded lightly.
“I’ll see what I can do, Your Majesty. Please don’t worry too much.”
Later That Night
The night had grown deep.
Celia, using the moonlight as her guide, was carefully scanning a bookshelf in the corner of the wall.
Every book on the shelf was thick and heavy-looking.
Hoping to find some clue that might help, she spotted a particularly eye-catching title:
“The History of Avalon’s Wars.”
Flap.
The only sound breaking the silence was the turning of pages in Celia’s hands.
As she read through the book of war records, her hand suddenly stopped.
Among the extensive war records was a chilling entry detailing Avalon’s invasion of her kingdom.
“Imperial Year 313, September 13th.
The 13th Emperor of Avalon personally led the conquest of the Kingdom of Shan.”
Just one sentence.
Written from the conqueror’s perspective. No reasons. No justification.
Feeling her blood boil, Celia flipped the page.
But there was nothing else written.
Celia closed the book.
Just as she returned it to the shelf, a long shadow loomed behind her.
‘When did they get here?’
Even Dietrich’s mansion wasn’t safe.
Thinking it would be too late to draw her dagger, Celia immediately used her ability.
The scent of hyacinths that emanated from her body wrapped tightly around the intruder.
Instantly, the intruder froze. Celia quickly turned around.
“You!”
Seeing who it was, she released her power immediately.
The silent intruder was none other than Dietrich himself.
“Why sneak up on me like that? I almost had a heart attack.”
“……I had to tell you something.”
Did he really have to tiptoe around to say it at this hour? Celia thought.
Reading her expression, Dietrich spoke.
“If I wait until tomorrow, it might be too late.”
“……Why?”
“Ileon’s backed us into a corner. He convinced the Empress that we’re the ones who poisoned the Crown Prince.”
Why was there never a peaceful day in this palace?
Celia felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“The real culprit is Ileon. He showed me the poison first, asking if I would use it. I refused.”
Dietrich’s pupils dilated, as if he was hearing this for the first time.
“……This is bad.”
“What is?”
“The situation. It’s bad.”
Dietrich narrowed his eyes as he looked at Celia.
“You were reading about the Kingdom of Shan just now, weren’t you?”
“……”
“Then you must be from the Kingdom of Shan. I thought there were no survivors. And judging by your power—you must be of royal blood.”
Celia was startled by how accurate his guess was.
Was he just probing her? No—it was too confident for that.
“My mother once told me a story. About a Shan princess born with a special ability—one who could control the human mind using the scent of flowers, dulling all five senses.”
Celia felt her heart plummet at his words.
“Don’t tell me… you think I’m that princess?”
She snapped at him, but Dietrich remained silent.
Under the moonlight, his gaze looked tranquil.
Celia was about to tell him that she also knew his secret—that he was from the Principality of Inata.
“You’re from Inata…”
But Dietrich interrupted.
“Yes.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m from the Principality of Inata.”
His eyes, as he said those words, were endlessly tender.
So tender that Celia felt foolish for ever being wary of him.
“I wish I’d known you were alive sooner.”
Though they’d only met for the first time in this palace, he looked at her as if he’d known her for a very long time.
“……You knew me before?”
“I’d never seen you in person, but my mother used to talk about you endlessly. I even know your nickname—Asha.”
Celia suddenly found Dietrich a little frightening.
If he even knew the nickname from when she was a princess… then just how much?
She realized there was no point denying it now.
From the moment he revealed how much he knew, he’d already taken the upper hand.
Still, she couldn’t let this conversation end without gaining something in return.
“Who are you really? And who is your mother?”
Dietrich shook his head slightly.
“I told you—I’m from Inata.”
“……I want to know your true identity. How much are you hiding from me?”
“You want to know?”
Dietrich asked, his voice bright with joy.
It was the first time Celia had seen him look so happy. Not knowing how to respond, she nodded faintly.
And then, for the first time, the man who was always expressionless smiled brightly, genuinely.
His eyes creased softly under his neat brows, and his once-rigid lips curved into a gentle arc.
Even the moonlight seemed to pale in comparison to that smile.
For some reason, Celia couldn’t take her eyes off him.
But at the same time, a wave of unease washed over her.
A deep, inexplicable instinct told her:
If she learned everything Dietrich was hiding, she would never be able to escape him.
Still, more than anything, Celia wanted to know the truth.
Dietrich leaned in toward her.
“I’ll only say this once. Listen carefully.”
Then, with a warm breath against her ear, he whispered:
“I am…”
