Chapter 156
The birthday banquet….
Kierne slowly closed his eyes, then opened them.
Come to think of it, the Emperor’s birthday banquet was approaching soon.
“And show your face before the birthday banquet. To confirm you’re still alive, and we have things to discuss.”
Having finished its message, the unicorn burst with a pop.
Kierne watched the traces of purple magic scatter like small fireworks, then promptly sheathed his magic sword.
A black shadow surged, enveloping his body.
When the darkness obscuring his vision cleared.
Kierne had arrived at the Duke of Ivroyel’s residence.
His blood-stained shoes landed lightly on the smooth marble.
“Aaaah!!”
Serea, who had been reading a book in the study, screamed and fell backward.
Startled, Serea rasped out curses and hurled the book in her hand.
Kierne caught the book she threw.
Flip—lightly turning the pages to skim the contents, Kierne smiled faintly.
“Still haven’t given up?”
It was a book researching methods to reverse magic tainted by darkness.
Once fallen as a black mage, there was no return.
Even knowing that no amount of repentance or regret could reverse it, Serea couldn’t let go of her lingering attachment.
She wrinkled her nose.
“You think I’m reading this because of you? Don’t flatter yourself.”
Denying it outright, yet Serea couldn’t hide her bitterness.
It was while she was examining the face of her disciple, who came dutifully whenever called.
An attendant announced the sudden visitor.
“Marquis Nemeia has arrived.”
To visit the duke’s residence without any prior notice.
She could roughly guess the reason for coming despite the rudeness.
Probably to gossip behind the Basilian Count’s back.
Lately, as House Basilian rose in the capital’s political scene, House Nemeia was being completely pushed aside.
The ambitious marquis wouldn’t stand by idly.
He must be scheming to undermine Basilian somehow.
Thus, he likely made this surprise visit with the intent to secretly draw in the Duke of Ivroyel without Basilian knowing.
If he had made an appointment in advance, his movements might be exposed, and the meeting with the duke could be blocked.
It was a testament to the current House Basilian that even the lion of Nemeia, who feared nothing in the world, resorted to such petty tricks.
It truly drove home the fact that Basilian held the great Palen Empire in its grasp.
As she stared blatantly at Kierne, he smiled faintly.
“He’ll be waiting, so go ahead.”
Serea said with a look of disgust.
“Waiting? For what…. You come too. Wipe off the blood.”
Even if he was her disciple, he was a frightening one.
Serea didn’t want to leave even the slightest room for suspicion that she might ally with Marquis Nemeia.
Shortly after.
In the reception room of the Duke of Ivroyel’s residence, the heads of the three great houses of the Palen Empire had all gathered.
In the place where the pillars leading the empire assembled, only a chilling air lingered.
Marquis Nemeia glared at Kierne without hiding his displeasure.
“…I intended to meet the duke alone.”
He had a thick, sturdy build like an ancient tree.
His robust body belied his age, and his eyes gleamed sharply.
It was enough to make most people struggle even to meet his gaze.
However, Kierne countered with a languid, willow-like grace, smiling as he replied.
“Do you dislike me?”
A scoff burst from Marquis Nemeia.
For a marquis born into a knightly house and who had lived his life as a warrior, it was an attitude hard to endure.
His face reddened as he suppressed his anger.
As if his insides were burning, he gulped down the cold tea specially prepared for him—who didn’t drink hot tea—like chugging it in one go.
Slamming the teacup down with a bang, the marquis widened his eyes.
“Count Basilian.”
“Yeees.”
“Come to think of it, I heard you’re a mage.”
Marquis Nemeia narrowed his eyes slyly.
“But I’ve never seen you use magic.”
Serea’s hand, sipping wine instead of tea in the afternoon, paused ever so briefly.
But she soon naturally finished her sip.
Kierne simply smiled without a word.
Their gazes locked for a long moment.
“I’ll ask you straight.”
Without breaking eye contact with Kierne, Marquis Nemeia slowly opened his mouth.
“Did you sell your soul to a demon or something? Otherwise, this situation where you’ve seized the empire….”
“Haha!”
But the marquis’s words were cut off by Kierne’s laughter.
After laughing for a while, Kierne asked back as if genuinely amused.
“If you could fulfill a wish by selling your soul to a demon, would you waste it on something like this?”
Kierne looked at the marquis with pitying eyes.
“I’d wish to be reunited with my loved ones.”
In the moment she recalled who those loved ones he longed to meet were, Serea realized.
Kierne had never said with his own mouth that his wife was dead.
Not even once….
Because he firmly believed he would bring his deceased wife back to life.
It was an unchanging truth, the pillar supporting the broken Kierne.
As Serea shuddered at the chilling realization, the enraged marquis jumped up and shouted.
“I know you’re aiding the rebel of the Holy Empire!”
“So what?”
Marquis Nemeia finally crossed the line.
He grabbed Kierne by the collar.
Serea rubbed her face dryly.
The hot-tempered marquis couldn’t endure Kierne’s subtle provocations.
Kierne chuckled softly.
Grasping the hand clutching his collar, he asked one by one in a soft voice.
“So, will you denounce me, petition His Majesty the Emperor to punish this wretch? Put me on trial, have my head chopped off on the guillotine?”
The implication in the questions was clear.
You don’t have the power to do that, Marquis.
Even unspoken, the mocking voice seemed to echo in his ears.
For an instant, the strength left the marquis’s hand.
As the gripped collar seemed about to loosen, Kierne clutched the marquis’s hand tightly to prevent it.
On his pale, straight hand, bones stood out sharply, and blue veins bulged.
“Urk…!”
Marquis Nemeia let out a pained groan.
“Be careful. Who knows? At the birthday banquet, someone might offer you….”
Kierne warned with an expressionless face.
“A poisoned goblet.”
When they stepped out after changing clothes, Aran’s attendant Samid stood there with a troubled expression.
Aran realized what was going on before Samid even opened his mouth.
“My brother is waiting.”
“…Yes.”
“How could he…!”
Aran was about to explode in anger but held back for now.
“I’ll go with you.”
“But Your Highness.”
“I said she’s my guest!”
She took Cheshire and went to find Itar together.
Finding Aran’s determination to stick close endearing, Cheshire swallowed a laugh.
Itar was waiting for Cheshire in a room adorned with various vases.
“You’re here!”
He immediately presented Cheshire with a bouquet.
Holding the large bouquet, Cheshire scanned the surroundings with slightly weary eyes.
Vases were everywhere.
Vibrant scents emanated from the colorful flowers in ornate vases, but it wasn’t welcome.
Because they were all cut flowers.
‘I prefer them in their natural state.’
Unaware of Cheshire’s inner thoughts, Itar laughed heartily.
“Don’t fairies love flowers?”
“Thank you.”
With the rabbit doll to carry as well, adding the bouquet was a bit burdensome.
Aran perceptively took the bouquet from Cheshire and held it instead.
Thanks to that, the relieved Cheshire asked Itar.
“Do you want to meet my mom?”
“Yes. I’m going to marry Lichesia. So you’re my daughter too.”
“….”
If he knew how all the previous ‘Cheshire dad aspirants’ had been dealt with, he wouldn’t say such things so carelessly.
Cheshire inwardly pitied him as she spoke.
“Me and Mom. We agreed to meet in the capital.”
“…In the capital of the Palen Empire?”
“Yeees.”
Cheshire said brightly.
“So if you go to the capital with me, you can meet Mom.”
Itar’s eyes widened hugely.
Maintaining an innocent expression outwardly, Cheshire laughed inwardly.
Cheshire couldn’t return to being the witch Lichesia.
With most of her power gone now, she couldn’t open the illusory domain to transform into Lichesia’s form.
Naturally, going back to the Palen Empire wouldn’t restore her power either.
The reason she boldly promised this anyway was because she had a reliable backup.
‘Whatever.’
As long as she got near the empire.
‘Dad and my brothers will handle it!’
Itar would have his head swiftly lopped off.
