Ch#140
"That's correct. All I can confirm is whether this mark is genuine or not."
This spell only verified the faint traces of ancient magic lingering in the unique imperial crest.
As Clois said, it confirmed the child was of imperial blood, but could not definitively declare her his daughter.
"Yet Count Aradman claims not just that she is imperial, but my daughter. Do you have evidence for that?"
Not every child of someone bearing the mark would be born with it.
Proof was Clois himself, born without it to an emperor who lacked the mark.
Thus, this child could easily be the daughter of some other imperial, not his.
"Do you think I am unaware of that possibility, Your Majesty?"
Count Aradman spoke as if he had been waiting for this.
"There is one who can prove she is Princess Evebien more than anyone. Please permit her entry here. You won't have to wait long. She was 'dragged' here just moments ago with me."
Count Aradman emphasized "dragged" while glaring at Knight Rommel.
As if vowing to remember the unjust treatment.
The Imperial Knight Order went out again. The hall grew noisy.
Those witnessing this upheaval firsthand chattered about what they knew, speculating on how it would unfold.
"In any case, she is definitely imperial, right?"
Before long, people referred to Eve not as that child, but as that lady.
Uncertain whose child she was, but with Dean Seraphina confirming her imperial blood, they dared not belittle her.
'Besides, His Majesty wasn't on bad terms with all imperial kin.'
Not every imperial had died in the war of succession by Clois's hand.
Some had been close brothers to him.
They had all met their ends at the late emperor's hands.
With everyone fleeing desperately, it was no surprise one might have secretly hidden a child.
In any case, a surviving imperial was still imperial.
They would surely live in wealth and glory under Clois's protection.
Moreover, with all imperial lines extinct, she had high chances of inheriting one of the many reclaimed noble titles—the most prestigious ones.
And if she truly was Princess Evebien...
People's minds raced busily.
Amid the commotion, Evi stared at Eve.
More precisely, at the mark on the back of Eve's hand.
'I have one too.'
Not as vivid, but one had certainly appeared on her own hand.
The thing she had desperately hidden with her filthy sleeve, thinking it a sign of plague.
To think it was proof of imperial blood.
Evi looked at her hand.
If it appeared now, she wanted to show Dean Seraphina immediately.
But nothing was on the back of Evi's hand.
Evi rubbed it roughly.
If it wasn't plague but truly the crest... then perhaps she too...
Evi startled at her own thought.
To imagine herself possibly imperial was utter blasphemy.
'Still, you never know.'
So if it appeared now.
If she said she had something similar and had the dean verify it.
Evi rubbed desperately, but nothing emerged on her hand.
As if now was not the time.
Just then, Evi's eyes met Eve's.
The children stared at each other wordlessly for a moment.
But only briefly. Soon Knight Rommel and Knight Hilde dragged a woman in from outside.
She had white hair. Yet unlike her hair, her wrinkled face didn't seem that aged, giving a strange impression.
The woman collapsed prostrate upon seeing Clois.
"Your Majesty!"
It was a desperate wail like a howl.
Clois, watching in bewilderment, paled in shock.
"...Savina?"
Savina nodded frantically in affirmation and crawled toward Clois.
"Ah, Your Majesty. This Savina has waited only for this day. For the day you felled the wicked and stood firm as this empire's rightful lord! Only then could I face you."
Savina spoke like a madwoman.
Half-mingled with sobs, incomprehensible, but her grief and sincerity pierced through.
"Only then could I bring Princess Evebien, as entrusted by Lady Lilian, to Your Majesty!"
"...!"
Entrusted by Lilian. At those words, Clois's face hardened more frighteningly than ever.
By then, Savina had crawled to Clois and pressed her forehead to his foot.
"Your Majesty, punish me as you will. I failed to save Lady Lilian. Yet I dared survive. But I could not die. I had to protect the little princess she entrusted to me. Yes, protect her. That young, tiny, lovely one... chased by wolves... I, I protected her."
Clois grabbed Savina, who kept slamming her forehead to the floor, and pulled her up.
He examined her face.
Though she looked decades older alone, it was undoubtedly Savina.
Lilian's closest friend and lady-in-waiting.
One very dear to Clois too.
Upon the child's birth, she had wept with joy, begging to be her wet nurse.
Even when Clois left Lilian behind, Savina had vowed firmly to protect her no matter what.
Clois still remembered that.
"Then you protected that child..."
"Yes. I did. This is the one I protected. This is Lady Eve."
Eve stood beside Savina as she called her name, as if confirming it was her.
Savina bent to embrace Eve's shoulders, weeping continuously.
"Unsure when the mobs would learn her dear name, I simply called her Eve. I fled holding Princess, holding her. Yes, we were chased at times... but I protected her. See, she lives here before you."
Savina's eyes gleamed fiercely as she spoke.
Savina was not one to lie—she would sooner die.
Hadn't she devoted herself more than anyone to Lilian?
By then, some in the hall who recognized Savina stepped forward.
Those who had followed Clois to Solem Territory had seen her at Lilian's side.
"But, but... no. Evebien is dead. The child at Lilian's side... I buried the mangled child whose bones couldn't even be gathered..."
Savina shook her head violently.
"That was not the princess. It was the child born from a pregnant woman in the castle then. The poor babe who passed before three hours... I brought that child. It was that child Lady Lilian held. And the true princess..."
Savina pushed Eve forward toward Clois.
"Is right here."
As if to show her off, Eve stepped closer, arms outstretched for a hug.
But Clois could not embrace the child.
This child is my daughter?
This child...?
Then what of Evi?
Clois startled at his own thought. Before he knew it, he had naturally thought of Evi as his daughter.
"And here... is a letter from Lady Lilian."
Savina rummaged in her bosom and pulled out worn paper.
How much had she touched and read it?
The edges were frayed and tattered.
Not just frayed—stained with water and blood marks everywhere.
Traces showing how desperately she had preserved it.
Clois took it with trembling hands.
The ragged paper would tear at the slightest force.
Upon it was handwriting he longed for.
[To Is.]
Just reading those first words stole his breath.
Is.
That was the name Lilian always called him.
A pet name allowed only to her.
Now no one in the world could call him that.
"Lilian..."
Clois felt dazed.
His beloved wife had left no trace for him.
The occupiers had burned her home and everything.
Thus, he had nothing of her handwriting, only memories.
Yet now, the last and only remnant was in his hands.
Clois's eyes read the next words.
[I'm sorry.]
Long ago, her final sight came to mind.
When he left, her saddened face.
What had she said then?
"I'm sorry."
He was the one leaving, yet Lilian had said it as if she were departing.
"Lilian..."
Clois could not breathe.
The wife he failed to protect.
Her, her trace... the girl claiming to be her child...
"Your Majesty!"
Knight Rommel's voice came from afar.
* * *
At the same time.
From the window of a shabby house in the capital's corner, Noma gazed at the Imperial Palace, wine glass in hand.
"Such a pity I can't watch directly."
She swirled the glass once and downed the wine.
Cheap swill, yet tastier than any she'd drunk before.
"Clois."
Noma giggled calling that name.
"I'll shatter you properly."
She muttered, finished the wine, and set the glass down.
Lilian's letter was real. Thus, it would upend his mind.
'That's exactly what I want.'
Noma approached the mirror to see herself.
She had desperately disguised as a woman. Beyond clothes and aids, she had long taken drugs that thinned her voice and erased male traits when overeaten.
Erasing her true self, yet she had work to do.
"I'll definitely shatter you."
Noma—once called Siren—muttered confidently.
Her plan was just beginning.
When it reached its peak.
Nothing could save Clois.
