Chapter 10

The enormous door, densely studded with ornaments wrought in gold, was tall enough to reach the ceiling.

The great door could never be opened by one person alone. It took two strong men pushing together just to move its heavy body.

It was a place not even a single ant could enter carelessly. The only ones permitted through this door were the imperial grandsons of each generation.

His father, and his father’s father. His position, passed down through twenty-six generations, carried a meaning beyond simply continuing the emperor’s bloodline.

“His Majesty—”

“He is waiting inside, Your Highness.”

The attendants who answered him had bloodshot eyes.

It was a symptom that developed from serving under the emperor for a long time. The emperor had a pathological hatred of letting words slip out.

So he often hypnotized his attendants. When that went on for long, the capillaries around the eyes of the hypnotized burst.

Passing by those vacant-eyed people, he entered and found a long corridor. No one guarded the door at the end of it.

After all, the only ones who could open that door were himself and the emperor. It was a door only the emperor’s bloodline could pass through.

The closer he walked toward that door, the more he felt something pressing down on his shoulders. Pavel twisted his head left and right, trying somehow to shake off the sensation, but he could not.

The moment he set foot in that place, he too was nothing more than a chess piece of the emperor.

“Your Majesty.”

At his sigh-like voice, the door opened. Pavel opened it and stepped inside.

The room was filled with white smoke. The emperor was a heavy smoker. Unless someone aired the room out, it was always thick with haze.

The moment Pavel entered, he reached for the nearest window to open it.

[Stop.]

Pavel’s body halted in midair against his will. It was a sensation he never grew accustomed to, no matter how often he experienced it. Having his own body move apart from his will was always unpleasant.

The emperor’s command had tremendous power. It was not that Pavel had never tried to resist it. It was simply that nothing had ever succeeded.

“I am merely trying to air the room out, Your Majesty.”

“Does it smell that much?”

“You should try the outside air as well. You will feel much better.”

At those words, the emperor fell silent. It meant he would not suppress him with a command. Pavel’s hand finally opened the window. As time passed, the room grew clearer.

The emperor was half-reclining on a single-seat couch in the center of the room, his body leaning back.

His long hair swayed behind the back of the couch.

“You are so very tired.”

“That is only natural, as I never leave this room.”

The emperor laughed as though he had heard something amusing. His streaked white hair swayed with the motion.

“There has been much talk about Erdona. About that fake, I mean.”

The fake she referred to meant only one person. Saya Erdona.

“…Yes.”

The emperor always acted as though she were confined to this room, yet she knew almost everything that happened in the capital.

Even Pavel did not know where her sources of information came from.

“That sly old fox Nolmen Erdona has done something interesting. It seems worth keeping an eye on that fake as well.”

“I will watch her without missing a thing.”

Pavel—the imperial grandson—had a duty given to him for half a millennium. It was the duty to discern who the true one was.

The emperor was searching for the reincarnation of the mage who had long ago brought her immortal life.

As a prophet, Nolmen Erdona had been obligated to find the mage for the emperor, but on that matter alone he had always offered only vague prophecies.

Now that Nolmen Erdona was in a coma, there was no choice but to rely on the prophecies he had left behind.

“A greedy prophet, indeed. Tsk.”

The emperor clicked his tongue. Looking out the window, the sun was visible between hazy clouds. It seemed to be a little past midday.

“What was the name again?”

“It is Saya Erdona.”

“Yes, Saya. It seems she warrants closer observation.”

“I will see to it.”

At his ever-unhesitating voice, the emperor smiled in satisfaction. The hazy pressure that bore down on him once more began to creep across Pavel’s skin.

The emperor turned around. On her face was a long scar running diagonally from her forehead. Were it not for that scar, the emperor’s face was young enough to look like that of a woman in her late twenties.

The scar never healed and remained always the same. Not enough to bleed, but enough to cause her pain.

[You may go now.]

Whenever she was on the verge of being forgotten, she stripped Pavel of his will. As if to remind him never to forget that fact. It was like a vicious form of brainwashing.

* * *

“My lady, an imperial carriage is visible at the entrance of the estate.”

“Has His Highness Pavel come? Was there any word of his visit?”

“No. Shall I prepare tea?”

“Please do.”

It was not rare for him to come without any notice, but today it was unexpected.

On the surface, he seemed to grant Gizelle a little more leeway than others, but even so, he was a man with clear boundaries.

What happened at the party a few days ago had been Gizelle’s mistake. She did not know how Redic Bangeger had gotten past the Erdona guards, but she should have anticipated such a thing.

In the end, it was Pavel who resolved the matter. It was strange. It was not the kind of thing a man so indifferent to others would do.

“I should go down before he arrives.”

Gizelle was always careful never to cross his lines. Though he showed interest in her, that interest did not feel as though it truly held any particular emotion.

Perhaps she had only barely succeeded in drawing his attention.

The carriage slowed in front of the estate and then stopped. Gizelle, with her hair tied low and a light shawl draped over her shoulders, came out to greet him.

Pavel stepped down from the carriage and approached Gizelle with a smile on his face.

“Your Highness, I did not even know you were coming and came out in haste.”

“Gizelle, I apologize for leaving first last time.”

“Please do not say such things. Was it not thanks to Your Highness that an unpleasant matter was resolved?”

“I am grateful to hear you say so.”

Pavel’s softened demeanor was puzzling but not unpleasant. Gizelle placed her hand on one of his arms, and they walked inside together.

“Gothman, where have you prepared the tea?”

“In the garden, my lady.”

Just as they were about to walk on together, Pavel’s steps came to an abrupt halt.

“No, I came today for a different matter.”

“Pardon?”

Gizelle was so taken aback that she asked again, foolishly, unlike her usual self. A smile formed at the corner of Pavel’s mouth.

“How strange that there is something you do not know. Did you hear nothing from your sister?”

“…From my sister?”

Gizelle tried not to leave even the faintest trace of displeasure. She forced a smile and asked in a calm voice.

“I came because I have something to discuss with her. I would like you to yield to her today.”

His kind smile was conditional on Gizelle doing as he said. Gizelle nodded before his mood could sour.

“Of course, Your Highness. If you wait, I will bring Saya to you.”

“Thank you.”

As he headed to the garden first, Gizelle stood still and furrowed her brow.

“You really are lucky.”

It was something Gizelle always said to Saya. Never had those words been as sincere as they were now. No one knew how hard she had worked to earn Pavel’s interest.

She did not want to look like she was trying. She wanted to catch Pavel’s eye as naturally as possible. It only meant something if it looked that way to others.

But that wretch Saya, without any effort at all—even while staining Erdona’s name—had earned Pavel’s interest. If that was not luck, then what was it?

She clicked her tongue and climbed the stairs.

* * *

“His Highness is here. Get ready.”

Gizelle acted as though Pavel had come to see me by her own will. But inside, she must have been burning black with fury.

If Pavel was a male lead who had fallen into her hands without Kirill ever wanting it, then Gizelle needed effort. People thought Gizelle had obtained even Pavel’s interest for free, but that was not the case.

It was the same in the book. At first, Pavel treated Gizelle only formally. The one who was initially anxious was Gizelle, but when Gizelle was hurt and stopped giving Pavel her attention, the relationship reversed. That time when Gizelle’s efforts bore fruit had not yet come.

I, too, calmly checked my appearance.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing? His Highness is waiting, so hurry out.”

When I turned around, Gizelle was still waiting for me. She had definitely seemed to be loitering near the desk… but there was nothing on it.

I set aside my uneasy feeling and followed behind Gizelle.

As we walked together to the garden, I saw Pavel waiting for us. He was drinking tea with an utterly relaxed air. It was a composure that made the place seem like his own home.

“So you’ve finally come.”

“I apologize for being late, Your Highness.”

“I am the one who is late, so that is enough of an apology.”

He gestured with his eyes to the chair across from him. There were three chairs prepared in total. It was rather a relief that Gizelle would be with us, so I would not have to lead the conversation.

“Ah, today I would like to speak with the Red Erdona lady alone.”

At his words, Gizelle’s face stiffened visibly. But it was only for an instant.

“Then I hope you have a pleasant conversation.”

“Thank you.”

Gizelle kissed Pavel’s cheek with an exceedingly affectionate and natural gesture, then withdrew.