“Black Priests!”
“How are they here…?”
Gasps of shock erupted among the nobles. Though their faces were hidden beneath deep hoods, the black robes adorned with gold-embroidered chrysanthemums unmistakably marked their identity.
No one knew the Black Priests’ faces. They rarely appeared, and in all of history, they had never revealed themselves.
The lead Black Priest slightly bowed toward the emperor. “The Mediator greets the Sun of the Empire,” a voice—neither distinctly male nor female—resonated through the hall.
“Welcome, Black Priests,” the emperor responded.
The lead priest, acknowledging the emperor’s greeting with a nod, turned to me. “Lady Eliant.”
The strange, almost mechanical timbre of the priest’s voice called my name. It wasn’t my first time seeing them. They always appeared at imperial coronations, publicly verifying the legitimacy of the emperor’s bloodline. I had seen them at Sys’s coronation, standing by his side as empress-to-be. Then, as now, their silent movements and eerie voices felt inhuman.
“Your hand,” the priest said, extending a gloved hand, slightly larger than mine.
Standing a head taller than me, the priest approached closely, forcing me to look up. Despite being so near, their face remained completely obscured by the robe.
As I extended my hand, another Black Priest brought forth a bowl filled with a clear, shimmering liquid. A sharp sting pierced my finger as the priest’s cold, gloved hand touched mine. Blood dripped from a small cut, falling into the bowl with a soft *plop*. Like ink in water, the red spread rapidly through the liquid.
A dry swallow echoed—whether mine or someone else’s, I couldn’t tell—as I stared intently at the bowl.
The priest gently swirled it, the liquid spiraling. The red hue seemed to fade, diluting into the clear fluid.
“Oh!”
“How can this be?!”
The fading red began to shift, turning golden—the color symbolizing the imperial bloodline.
“It’s a lie! It’s all lies!” the nursemaid screamed, thrashing against the two knights restraining her.
The emperor pointed at her, shouting, “Drag that woman out for mocking the imperial family! I will personally judge her crimes.”
“This can’t be! It can’t!” she wailed, cursing. “That damned lucky wretch!”
A knight struck her head with the flat of his sword, and she collapsed, unconscious.
As the knights dragged her limp body away, a warm hand enveloped mine.
Father, now beside me, looked down with concern. Despite her betrayal, she had raised me when even my parents neglected me. He likely worried her venomous display had hurt me.
“I’m fine,” I said, not to reassure him but because I truly felt nothing—no resentment, no anger.
“Bionne?”
As the nursemaid was dragged out and the hall buzzed with chaos, a piercing gaze struck me. Instinctively, I turned toward its source. Father called my name, puzzled, but I couldn’t respond immediately.
For a moment, I felt as if I’d locked eyes with the Black Priest. All noise vanished, and it was as though only the priest and I existed in an isolated space.
It was strange. The priest’s face remained hidden, yet I instinctively felt our eyes had met.
Like gliding over ice, the priest approached silently, almost instantaneously.
Their gloved hand brushed my cheek, the icy chill making me shiver. They seemed to chuckle softly at my reaction.
“May you live this life without regrets…”
The genderless voice, laced with an eerie resonance, sent shivers down my spine.
I thought they said more, but my dazed mind couldn’t grasp it.
“Bionne?”
A shake brought me back to reality. Blinking, my vision cleared, revealing Father’s worried face.
“Are you ill?”
“No, it’s just… the Black Priests…”
“They left after confirming your bloodline,” he said.
His words snapped me to attention. I scanned the room, but the priests were gone, as if it had all been a dream.
“When did they leave?”
“Right after verifying your lineage. Are you truly alright?”
“Your face is too pale,” Sys added, approaching and touching my forehead. I grabbed his wrist, pulling it down, and asked urgently, “Did you hear what the Black Priest said to me?”
Both Father and Sys looked puzzled.
“They said nothing,” Father replied.
“You must be exhausted. Leave the rest to me and go rest,” Sys urged, cupping my face with concern.
I had questions about the priests but shook my head. Now wasn’t the time—focus belonged on the meeting. Whether I’d dreamt it or the priests had used some power to speak to me alone could wait.
“I’m fine. I’ll stay until the end.”
“But—”
“Is there anyone who still disputes Lady Eliant’s lineage?” the emperor interjected, cutting Sys off.
At my signal, Sys and Father reluctantly turned to the emperor.
No one answered his question.
To challenge now would deny the Black Priests’ authority and, by extension, the imperial bloodline they protected.
No one would dare question my lineage again.
“First Consort, do you have anything to say?”
“…No,” she replied, biting her lip as if the word pained her.
“I declare Lady Eliant’s lineage without fault,” the emperor proclaimed.
His words would be recorded officially, and any future challenge would face severe punishment in his name.
The malicious rumors surrounding me would cease. This was my plan, and I had won. But one final battle remained.
—
“This way.”
Guided by a soldier, I descended the damp, dark stairs of the dungeon.
Beyond the bars, a crouched woman came into view.
Though unmarked by torture, her filthy appearance suggested days without washing.
At my gesture, the soldier, as if pre-instructed, left without hesitation.
As his footsteps faded, silence enveloped the cell, leaving only me and the woman.
“Quite a sight,” I said, breaking the quiet.
The nursemaid unfolded from her crouch.
Her lifeless eyes flared with venom upon seeing me.
“Come to gawk at the prison? Such refined noble taste,” she spat, her voice rough as rusted iron.
I tossed a small pouch into her cell. It landed with a thud, white powder spilling from its open mouth.
“I hear this was yours,” I said.
She glared, silent.
“They say a plant called Kayak grows in the desert. Its dried sap calms the mind, but prolonged use causes addiction and hallucinations.”
Her face stiffened.
Kayak was a rare plant from the harshest desert regions, known to few. Without Evan, I wouldn’t have known it existed.
“Did you give it to my mother too?”
Her lips twisted into a sneer. I already knew the answer.
Though I hadn’t known about Kayak, the powder’s sweet scent was familiar—identical to the tea I once drank regularly.
The nursemaid had poisoned both my mother and me, slowly, imperceptibly.
“Curious enough to come here for that?” she cackled, her laughter rasping.
After a while, she wiped the mirth from her face and stood.
“Damned lucky wretch!”
Her venomous eyes locked onto mine.
“I should’ve ruined you like I did Siona!”
Her dry, claw-like hands gripped the bars, blue veins bulging beneath her corpse-pale skin.
“Yes, I fed it to your mother. The fool didn’t even know it was poison—she ate it up eagerly.”
A sneer curled her lips again.
“Her tears when she believed my lies were quite the show. Trembling at the thought of a bastard’s mother stealing her place.”
“…I’ve wondered why,” I said calmly, meeting her rage.
