TTPB 43

Chapter 43

 You Have Harbored Impure Feelings

The pounding of hooves echoed harshly. A black figure in a hood was being chased by two knights. Gawain aimed his bow at the horse running ahead. His perfect posture on the galloping steed showed he had done this many times before.

Whizz—thwack! A scream from the horse was followed by its rider tumbling to the ground. The fallen figure twitched, the hood shifting slightly. A knight yanked on his reins and blocked the path to cut off any escape. Behind him, Arsène spurred his horse and leapt down.

Shhhk.

He drew his sword and strode forward. Grabbing the hood roughly, he yanked it back. A cascade of long hair spilled down from the bent head.

“Confess. You clearly said you saw Grand Duke Ludwig visiting the Second Princess’s chambers before the Founding Festival.”

“I know nothing of that.”

The one they had been pursuing was a handmaiden of Arachne, planted by Thanasis. Arsène pressed his blade tight against the maid’s neck.

“Why did you burn the visitor’s log? Who ordered you?”

The maid had been caught fleeing after burning the record of the Grand Duke’s visit. They had discovered it too late—by then, the book was nothing but ashes. The sole piece of evidence that could have tied Arachne and Ludwig together was gone in an instant.

“I know nothing of that.”

Her eyes were vacant as she repeated the same words. Arsène clicked his tongue.

“She’s already been brainwashed.”

Gawain dismounted. For the past several days, he and Arsène had been tracking down the remnants of Ludwig’s involvement. They should have safeguarded the visitor’s log the moment they learned of “brainwashing.” But in the chaos of the Second Princess’s funeral, the maid had been used to erase it.

“Damn it. We let our guard down.”

Arsène flung the maid aside violently, but she didn’t move—like a broken doll, firmly under the spell.

“What will you do? Even if we drag her back, we’ll gain nothing.”

Arsène knew that too. The case with Arachne had proven it. Once brainwashed, a victim obeyed nothing but their implanted command, like someone under a curse. No interrogation would work. Even knowing who was behind it, they could not expose the truth.

Irritated, Arsène ran his hand through his hair. At that moment, the woman began twitching violently, emitting strange, guttural sounds.

“Uuuhh… aaah…”

“What the—”

A knight drew his sword instantly, but before he could act, the maid pulled a dagger from her robes and slashed her own throat.

“…!”

Splurt—squelch.

Blood soaked into the dirt. A clean ending. Nothing remained for them.

“…”

Only a cold corpse lay before the two knights. Even her escape had been part of the brainwashing—a mission to disappear without a trace. Arsène realized he had been utterly toyed with by the Grand Duke’s schemes.

“…Let’s return.”

In the end, they had gained nothing. The prince’s plan to tie Ludwig to the affair had collapsed completely.

The closing ceremony resumed. On the river lit by lanterns, the flame of the Pontos vessel flickered for the last time. After burning for more than twelve days, it was finally to be extinguished. The Emperor mounted the dais. He apologized for having delayed the ceremony, prayed for the Third Princess’s recovery, and at last, spoke of the Second Princess’s death.

“Though this may not be fitting for so sacred an occasion, I, Euclide, have suffered great sorrow from this tragedy.”

Officially, Arachne’s death was attributed to a relapse of illness. Those present at the festival’s eve knew she had been involved in the Third Princess’s incident, but as always, when the Emperor covered it up, they hushed their tongues.

“If even I, who lead the Empire, feel such pain… how much greater must yours be. I cannot begin to imagine.”

The common folk, unaware of the truth, pitied the Emperor who had lost two daughters. To them, he was a virtuous ruler who, like themselves, knew the grief of burying his children. His solemn words moved the crowd to mourning. Thanasis, watching, could only smirk bitterly.

“He intends to wring advantage even from his daughter’s death.”

“Let’s not judge too harshly. Who knows his heart?”

“You still don’t understand His Majesty? For the sake of the Empire, he will do anything.”

Even with the mastermind exposed, the Emperor chose stability over justice. Had he personally pursued Ludwig, perhaps they could have uncovered “brainwashing” before all evidence was destroyed.

“It no longer surprises me.”

At his lord’s rare cynicism, Dian held his tongue. This incident bore a striking resemblance to the assassination of the First Prince—poison, a cover-up, and the same imperial handling. Exactly as it had been seven years ago.

That Ludwig had been involved in the First Prince’s death was certain. Lacking evidence, the truth had been buried for seven long years.

And with each passing day, His Highness’s thirst for vengeance only grows stronger.

David de Calonne, the First Prince, was Thanasis’s one true spark of life. In the suffocating palace, the two full-blood brothers had been unusually close. Gentle and kind-hearted, David had been beloved by all. Wise, virtuous, and a natural leader, he was the obvious heir to the throne—destined to be a great ruler.

If only he had not died the day before his coming-of-age.

The imperial investigation then had revealed nothing. Before David’s coffin, young Thanasis had screamed in grief. Despair at his powerlessness turned into rage at those who had driven his brother to death.

Since then, he had grown formidable, becoming an unrivaled candidate for the throne. And now, he honed his blade of vengeance ever sharper. Dian thought anew that the master he served was like a monster.

“Now, His Majesty will bestow the rewards.”

The final act of the closing ceremony was to honor the victor of the swordsmanship tournament. Emperor Euclide approached the flame. The Pontos vessel glowed with the festival’s last embers.

“Arsène Wig de Lafayette, step forward.”

Arsène knelt solemnly before the dais.

“I proclaim: the victor, Arsène Wig de Lafayette, is henceforth appointed Captain of the Imperial Knights of Remigis.”

The announcement shocked the people—half disbelief, half anticipation. A man from Dunstan Island had become commander of the Empire’s knightly order. The news would soon shake the world. The Emperor touched Arsène’s shoulders lightly with a gleaming sword.

“You are now the sword of Calonne. Swear your fealty.”

“May the blessings of the fairies be with you.”

With Thanasis leading the applause, others followed, congratulating him. Rose gazed at Arsène as if she were watching a scene from a novel.

Beneath the ceremonial flames, his silver armor gleamed. Accepting the Emperor’s sword, he stood like the very image of a knight—thick brows, sharp nose, and a strong, dignified face.

“…Handsome.”

Now the Empire’s greatest swordsman, none could look down on him. Rose glanced sideways at Thanasis. He had ordered Arsène to investigate Ludwig. Thanasis, too, was certain Ludwig wielded “brainwashing,” after his dealings with Arachne.

But he must have failed to prove it.

The Emperor’s cover-up made that clear. Without undeniable proof, Euclide bided his time, as he had during the First Prince’s assassination. Still, when she herself was the victim, Rose found it hard to stomach.

She fixed her gaze on Grand Duke Ludwig, brazenly attending the ceremony. His cold eyes and crossed arms exuded composure. Rage flared at the man who had tried to kill her, but she forced herself to remain calm.

If even Thanasis could not move against him yet, how could she? At Arachne’s funeral he had worn the same expressionless mask. One day, that serpent would be dragged down.

When Arsène’s investiture ended, a minister declared the ceremony’s close.

“Then, Your Majesty, if you would extinguish the flame—”

“No. One more remains.”

The Emperor raised his hand, calling forth another. From the crowd stepped Herya.

“…Why is Herya there?”

Rose followed him with surprise. He wore the white uniform of the Holy Order, embroidered with golden divine sigils. Even a long cape—something he usually disliked—trailed behind him. Neat and radiant, he looked every bit a holy knight. Under the firelight, his ash-brown hair shone almost like gold.

The Emperor gestured toward Rose.

“Third Princess. Come forth.”

“Me? Why…”

Dazed by Euclide’s summons, Rose climbed the dais. Meeting her eyes, Herya gave a gentle smile.

“Welcome, my princess.”

He lifted her hand, brushed a kiss across the back, and sank to one knee. The Emperor’s voice rang out.

“I appoint Holy Knight Herya Deon as the personal guard of Third Princess Rose de Calonne!”

Rose gasped, staring between the Emperor and Herya.

“Your Majesty, a guard?”

“I watched him in the tournament—his skill is proven. This is to ensure no further misfortune befalls you. Forgive a poor father who failed to grant you a dedicated protector until now.”

Rose could not deny Herya’s prowess. His duel with Arsène had been real.

But suddenly as my personal guard? And Herya of all people…?

Her mind reeled. Herya only chuckled softly, finding her bewilderment endearing.

“Aren’t you going to hold my investiture? My knees hurt.”

“…Of course.”

Flustered, she forgot to ask how or why he had been chosen. Under the sacred flame, dimples deepened in his smile, making him all the more striking. Rose raised the golden sword—so well-suited to him—and touched his shoulders lightly.

“I proclaim Herya Deon the sworn protector of Rose de Calonne.”

“I am honored, my princess.”

His dazzling smile seized her eyes. From the very first meeting, he had left a vivid impression.

“Herya Deon swears to serve only his princess, from this day forward.”

The cross insignia on his uniform gleamed brilliantly. Rose found herself staring at the man who had just become her knight.

“Captain.”

Gawain called, but Arsène did not hear. He only gazed, dazed, at Rose. Her apricot hair glowed shyly under the firelight.

Why had the Emperor chosen Herya? Arsène had not even been given the chance to request the post himself. It was already done. Watching the holy knight hold her hand, his chest tightened.

Why? Surely more protection for her was a good thing. After this incident, the need was obvious. But he could not accept it.

Why. Because it was the role he wanted? Because a mere young holy knight now stood at her side?

No. That wasn’t it. The truth was, no matter who stood there, he would not have been satisfied.

Why…

Slowly, Arsène raised his hand and covered his mouth.

“Captain?”

Gawain called again, but Arsène could not answer. The realization struck him too suddenly. His dark pupils trembled without rest. At last, he let out a hollow laugh.

“…So. I’ve harbored impure feelings.”

How dare I.