Episode 84

Chapter 84. The Only Weakness

The short outing had come to an end. It was time to return to the imperial palace before it got any later. Helena and Cedric, reluctantly leaving behind their moment of respite, made their way back to the carriage. Conrad and Felix, who had been preparing the carriage in advance, greeted them warmly.

“Please, step inside first, Your Majesty.” Cedric opened the carriage door and gestured to Helena.

But then—

“Oh! I almost forgot—just a moment!” Something seemed to have struck her suddenly, and Helena dashed over to the carriage’s luggage compartment.

She pulled out a book.

Thud. Thud. Thump.

No, not just one. She kept pulling out more and more, stacking them one by one until a towering pile rose beside her. No one knew she had packed so many to begin with.

By the time she was finished, the tower of books stood taller than she was.

“What is all this…?” Cedric asked, genuinely bewildered.

Helena beamed with pride. “A gift I prepared.”

“A gift?”

“You gave me that golden treasure chest before, remember? I wanted to return the gesture.”

“I never gave that gift expecting anything in return…”

“I know. But I really wanted to give you something, too.”

Cedric hesitated for a moment, then spoke from the heart. “Thank you.” He truly meant it.

After all, the meaning of a gift lies in the thought behind it—knowing that someone had you in mind while preparing it is enough to make the heart swell.

Helena gave him a playful glance. “Well? Aren’t you going to open one?”

Open one? Did she want him to take a look inside?

Curious, Cedric picked up the book on top of the stack. The title on the cover looked familiar. In fact, it was one he had read before. He even remembered the contents—no, he remembered them perfectly. His mind had a habit of retaining nearly everything he read after just one pass.

He silently cursed his unnecessary memory skills.

‘What am I supposed to do now…’

Cedric found himself in a deep dilemma. Judging by her expression, it was clear she had put a lot of thought into this gift. If he let slip that he’d already read the books, it might ruin the moment and leave her disappointed.

That was something he couldn’t allow.

In the end, Cedric resolved to pretend as if he were reading them for the first time. No matter what he saw, he would act as though it was all new and fascinating. He would even say that he’d been wanting to read these books for a long time.

With that in mind, he opened the cover of the book.

“What is this…?”

What greeted him wasn’t the expected text or illustrations. Instead, he heard Helena’s gentle voice near his ear.

“They’re pressed flowers.”

Pressed flowers—delicately dried blossoms nestled between the pages.

Between sheets of white paper, a variety of blooms had been carefully arranged.

“I started drying the flowers you gave me, little by little.”

“Wait… are you saying all of these books are…?”

“Haha. It’s quite a lot, isn’t it? You gave me so many flowers… things just turned out this way.”

Helena let out a shy laugh, clearly embarrassed by the scale of her gift.

“Do you remember this one? It’s the very first flower you gave me. And this one is from when we met in the garden. And this one is…”

She kept pointing and explaining, her voice chirping with enthusiasm, like a cheerful songbird. She remembered everything—when, where, even what kinds of flowers he had given her.

‘…Am I allowed to be this happy?’

Cedric tightened his grip around the book in his hands.

His eyes remained fixed on her.

“So? What do you think? Pretty, right?”

Behind Helena, the sun was setting.

Her lush golden hair shimmered under the orange glow of dusk, glowing with an otherworldly hue.

Her radiant smile sparkled brighter than any flower.

“Yes. It’s beautiful.”

Cedric had no doubt—she was more breathtaking than any bloom in the world.

Night had fallen, the sky now steeped in pitch-black ink.

The Duchy of Schwaben.

In the ducal estate’s library, the Duke of Hastings sat reading.

It was his favorite room in the entire residence.

The towering bookshelves brimmed with volumes, the weight of the Schwaben family’s long, illustrious legacy—one that dated back to the founding of the Empire—pressed into every line and page.

The only light in the room came from scattered candle flames, flickering softly in the hush.

Aside from the occasional rustle of a page turning, all was still.

But then, as a long shadow fell across the text—

The Duke lifted his eyes from the book.

He was no longer alone.

There, standing just beyond the candlelight, a dark figure loomed in silence.

“My, what an unexpected guest.”

The Duke greeted him with a genial smile.

“Come, sit. I’ve long wanted a private word with you.”

“So you anticipated my visit.”

“I thought you might show yourself. Sooner or later.”

The man had appeared without a trace, and yet the estate remained deathly quiet.

No guards summoned. No alarm raised.

The Duke’s tone was light, almost amused.

“To think someone would sneak into a ducal estate like a common thief… I presume this visit has nothing to do with your official duties as Captain of the Imperial Guard.”

He scratched his chin, then added casually,
“Or should I be addressing you tonight as the leader of the underworld?”

“Spare me the nonsense.”

The figure stepped closer.

Candlelight danced along the edges of his silhouette.

A thin glimmer caught the curve of his jet-black hair, skimmed his sharply cut nose like moonlight over marble, and disappeared again into the shadows.

“Truth be told, I was surprised at first. You, a man of such solemn reputation in the palace… To think you would also be skilled in such matters.”

The shadows withdrew.

The man’s face came fully into view.

Gone was the polished knight so praised in polite society.

The mask of courtesy had been discarded. What remained was a man of cold detachment, his expression void of feeling, enough to make even the boldest onlooker recoil.

“So. How much do you know?”

“All of it.”

Leonard tossed a report onto the table.

Shrrrk—!

The bound pages fanned out across the surface.

Contained within was every detail—the full extent of the Duke’s dealings with the assassins’ guild. The record of every attempt to send a hired killer into the Empress’s residence.

“All of this… Why?”

Leonard’s voice had taken on a sharper edge.

“She is your daughter. How could you—how could you order assassins to end your own daughter’s life?”

“My, my. You make it sound as though I’m some heartless fiend willing to murder his child for personal gain.”

“You aren’t?” Leonard’s laugh was biting.

“It seems you misunderstand something, Sir Leonard,” the Duke said coolly. “Everything I’ve done… has been for her sake.”

He spoke with not a hint of shame.

Leonard narrowed his eyes. “I see. We’ve crossed into delusion now.”

The Duke chuckled. “You don’t understand. Let me ask you something.”

He closed the book in his lap with a quiet thump.

“Do you know how great heroes are made?”

Leonard’s brow creased.

The Duke went on, unfazed.

“Is it by performing mighty feats? Saving the lives of countless people?”

“…”

“No. None of that.”

The Duke shook his head slowly.

“No matter how great a deed, people forget. Humanity is forgetful by nature.”

He picked up a candle from the desk.

Its flame wavered unsteadily.

“In the end, there’s only one way to forge a legend.”

Fff—

With a breath, the flame was gone.

“And that’s to disappear… at the height of one’s glory.”

Only then, he claimed, would people remember a hero forever.

Leonard knew instantly what he meant.

Back when Helena had been falsely accused of poisoning the Empress, public opinion had plummeted. But since then—

She’d cleared her name.
Ended a devastating drought.
Won the Empire’s unwavering support.

Now, she stood at the pinnacle of public favor.

And the Duke believed this moment—this very peak—was the perfect time for her to vanish.

To immortalize her.

As if it were some noble gift.

Leonard let out a soft, incredulous scoff.

That was his reason?

That petty, twisted ambition?

To chase a legacy, he would kill his own daughter and call it devotion?

What a grotesque joke.

His gaze fell to the extinguished candle.

In it, he saw Helena—
Eyes closed, utterly still, as if she’d never awaken.

It had been some time ago now, and yet the memory clung to him as if it had happened just yesterday.

His blood ran cold.

She hadn’t taken that poison to be used like this.
She hadn’t crossed the border at risk of her life for this.

And now—

“I’m proud of her,” the Duke said, smiling with awful satisfaction. “She was foolish at first, but in the end, she followed her father’s will.”

“Enough.”

Leonard’s voice was flat, dangerous.

“You really do enjoy the sound of your own delusions.”

“Then what? You’ve come to kill me here?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“I doubt it,” the Duke said lightly. “You won’t harm me.”

“…Is that so?”

The Duke thought a breeze had brushed past him. But no—

He turned.

He had been staring at an afterimage.

Leonard now stood behind him, blade drawn.

The sharpened edge hovered at the Duke’s throat.

He was close. So close, the slightest move would end it.

But more menacing than the steel was the knight’s gaze.

Even cloaked in shadow, Leonard’s blue eyes burned like a predator’s.

And yet—the Duke didn’t so much as flinch.

He looked perfectly calm, as if he still held the upper hand.

“You won’t do it,” he said. “Because you love her.”

“……!”

A smirk curled the Duke’s lips, slow and serpentine.

Like a viper coiled around a man’s heart.

Tightening. Just enough to leave him breathless.

“No daughter would ever forgive a man who murdered her father.”