Chapter 62

“Hehe… His Second Highness really has such a generous heart.”

 

“Is this really the time to be laughing? Clean the floor!”

 

“Aaah! Right!”

 

At Layan’s scolding, Hor scrambled frantically.

 

Crash—!

 

Hor stepped on the spilled water, slipped, fell on his backside, and tumbled down the stairs.

 

“Ugh!”

 

“Hor, are you okay?!”

 

“I—I’m fine!”

 

Hor waved his hand to assure Layan he was alright. Then, as if something suddenly crossed his mind, he frowned and sprang to his feet.

 

“Will His Highness know where the restroom is?”

 

Layan pressed a palm to his forehead at Hor’s bizarre train of thought.

 

“That’s not what matters right now, Hor.”

 

“Then what does matter?”

 

“You just fell down the stairs!”

 

“Oh, right! Still, I should tell him where the restroom is so he can tidy up and go, right?”

 

Hor shouted toward Freyer’s retreating back:

 

“Your Highness! The restroom is on the first floor—turn right after you arrive and go straight down the hall!”

 

“…That’s the servants’ restroom.”

 

“Eh…? Oh, right. But it’s the closest from here, so I told him anyway.”

 

“Good grief. You’re impossible.”

 

Layan shook his head with a deep sigh.

 

‘Not bad.’

 

Hor had deliberately given Freyer the information. It was to avoid suspicion from the Crown Prince’s men who were guarding the area. Freyer quickened his steps.

 

 

***

 

 

Freyer arrived at the first-floor restroom Hor had mentioned. Inside, servants were checking their appearance in the mirror. At the sound of the door opening, one of them raised his voice.

 

“Why are you so late!”

 

“You weren’t meeting your lover again, were you?”

 

They must have planned to chat together; the servant yelling toward the entrance flinched upon seeing Freyer.

 

“Second Prince?”

 

They blinked, rubbed their eyes. They had heard rumors that the Second Prince would soon become Minister of Foreign Affairs, but never expected to meet him here. They all bowed in a hurry.

 

“Y-Your Highness, how… how are you in this place…?”

 

“My clothes were soiled.”

 

The servant checked Freyer’s clothes. There were splatters of black stains and water, so his appearance made sense.

 

“We’ll clear the area for you!”

 

“Let’s go, hurry.”

 

The servants quickly rushed out, leaving Freyer alone.

 

Click—

 

Though news would soon spread that the Second Prince was inside and the restroom would be kept off-limits, Freyer locked the door just to be safe.

 

He glanced around. The servants’ restroom was simply decorated.

 

“I’m supposed to turn the lion sculpture by the mirror.”

 

Freyer approached the mirror. A lion figurine sat there, completely out of place in such a modest room. Without hesitation, he turned it.

 

Vrrrr—

 

The figurine vibrated with a faint tremor almost undetectable from the outside. The mirror Freyer faced began to rumble.

 

Thunk—

 

With a noise, the mirror sank inward, revealing a staircase descending below. Freyer stepped into the hidden passage without pause. Behind him, the mirror-door slid shut automatically.

 

“I didn’t know a place like this existed.”

 

At the bottom of the stairs stretched a long, dim corridor lit by a few sparse lamps. The passage seemed old—cracks ran through the walls, spiders clung to the ceiling, and fallen bits of stone lay scattered across the dusty floor.

 

Crunch—

 

Every step Freyer took crushed debris beneath his boots, and the smell of dust filled the air.

 

After several minutes of walking by the faint light, he reached another staircase leading upward. Freyer ascended—only to face a wall made of wooden boards.

 

“It’s blocked.”

 

He knocked—thunk.

 

Creak—

 

The wood swung open.

 

A pitch-black bedroom lay beyond, shut out from all light by thick curtains. Only a tiny magic lamp illuminated the space—and the Emperor lying in bed.

 

‘This passage leads to the Emperor’s bedchamber.’

 

The Emperor’s residence was heavily guarded. Access was restricted under the pretext of his worsening health.

 

“I’ve been waiting.”

 

“Why did Your Majesty summon me?”

 

Freyer did not welcome this meeting. His mother had fled while pregnant with him because of the Emperor. He had always blamed the Emperor—if it weren’t for him, or if Freyer had never been born, she wouldn’t have died.

 

‘If I weren’t your blood, I wouldn’t have lived such a tormented life.’

 

“There’s something I must tell you.”

 

“……”

 

“Come closer.”

 

Freyer pressed his lips shut and approached. Only now, under the weak lamplight, he took in the Emperor’s appearance.

 

Freyer scowled. The Emperor’s face was ghost-pale, drained of all color. His cheeks were hollow, dark shadows blooming beneath his eyes. Veins protruded against his white skin.

 

The Emperor gave him a bitter smile.

 

“You look shocked. Hardly a pleasant sight, I know.”

 

“…How did Your Majesty come to be like this?”

 

“I had no desire to show you such a state. But… things turned out this way.”

 

The Emperor gave a hollow laugh. Freyer had never once thought of him as a father, yet seeing him like this pressed heavily on his chest.

 

“When you said you wanted authority over the Foreign Ministry, I was surprised. You, who had lived in the shadows, stepping forward… it made me proud. That’s why I couldn’t delay this meeting any longer.”

 

He managed a faint smile.

 

“I heard you met with Ricardo and his nobles.”

 

“How did you—!”

 

Freyer’s eyes widened in disbelief at how closely the Emperor had been watching him.

 

“If word reached me, it will soon reach the Empress too.”

 

“The Empress…?”

 

He never expected the Emperor—whom he thought to be the Empress’s puppet—to bring her up as a warning.

 

“You must move very quietly.”

 

Freyer needed clarity.

 

“Whose side are you on, Your Majesty?”

 

“I am on no one’s side. That is why I lost everything.”

 

The words of an emperor—ruler of all—sounded absurd. Yet his expression was nothing but sincere.

 

“Does that ‘everything’ include my mother?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Neither the guild nor Silvertone could find proof regarding his mother’s death. It was as if the evidence had been purposefully erased—by someone with immense power: the Emperor or the Empress.

 

Yet the Emperor looked devastated.

 

“Is the Empress connected to my mother’s death?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The Emperor stared into the distance, his face contorted with pain.

 

“But it’s no different from me having killed her… If I’d had strength, I wouldn’t have lost her.”

 

His remorse was strange. Freyer narrowed his eyes and pressed him harder.

 

“Why tell me this only now?”

 

The Emperor answered dully, almost detached:

 

“I’m dying.”

 

“…!”

 

“Through sheer will, I’m still alive—but it may be months… or days. I don’t know how much time I have.”

 

Freyer stared at him, shaken. The Emperor met his gaze with a faint smile.

 

“I was told it was a severe poison.”

 

“…Was this the Empress’s doing?”

 

“Most likely.”

 

Cough—cough—

 

He couldn’t suppress the coughs any longer.

 

“No one can identify the poison or even when I was exposed to it.”

 

“Treatment—what about treatment?”

 

“Impossible. I’ve tried everything. Healing magic, potions… all they can do is buy me brief moments of strength.”

 

Struggling, the Emperor opened a drawer and pulled something out, handing it to Freyer with trembling hands. A golden seal engraved with a phoenix.

 

“Only one of imperial blood can make this shine.”

 

From Freyer’s palm, the seal glowed a bright gold.

 

“I am giving you all my authority.”

 

Freyer’s eyes trembled violently.

 

“To use the seal, you must solidify your foothold in the palace. Only then will there be no backlash. You must succeed in forging ties with the Kingdom of Oneren.”

 

“Why give this to me, not the Crown Prince? Out of guilt for my mother?”

 

“No.”

 

“You are the only one who can illuminate the seal, Freyer.”

 

Then came the final, decisive blow:

 

“Ivailo is not of imperial blood.”

 

“…!”

 

“On the night of our first consummation—the night she claimed Ivailo was conceived—Celeste and I were not together. Ours was a marriage of mutual benefit. Neither of us desired it. So I remained silent about her lie. I pitied her. She, too, was forced into a marriage she didn’t want.”

 

“……”

 

“I could not give her love. So I thought… if my silence brought her some comfort, that would be enough. But I was wrong. I was lacking. I lost Felicia because I tolerated everything and looked the other way.”

 

His face twisted with agony, then steadied with resolve.

 

“So I will bear the cost of ending this cursed chain. While I still live, I will shield you. During that time, build your foundation—grow your power.”