“Six years ago, just before your mother died.”
Six years ago!
My heart began to race erratically.
“There was an attack, clearly targeting you. When Count Pison heard, he came to me. Like House Eliant, House Pison has secrets passed down through generations.”
“An attack?”
“You don’t remember, do you?”
My father sighed. Trembling with rising unease, I struggled to stay composed.
“The day before your mother died, there was an attack. But the next day, you came to me as if nothing had happened. I thought the shock made you lose those memories. Your personality changed after that, too. If the trauma was that severe, I believed it was better you didn’t remember.”
That day!
The day I became aware of myself as me.
With all of Bijonne and Ijia’s memories, I awoke as young Bijonne. I covered my mouth, stifling a scream that threatened to escape.
My memories aren’t complete?
I’d vaguely suspected it, but now it was certain. What I remembered might not be true. I could no longer trust my own memories.
“Bee…”
Sys, watching my confusion, stood and approached. He took my trembling hand, his large palm enveloping it, his warmth calming the chill raging within me.
My father’s thick eyebrows twitched, displeased at Sys sitting beside me. Ignoring his irritation, I pressed on.
“So, you allied with the imperial family to protect me?”
“Yes. Unaware of the family’s secrets, I was at a loss for how to keep you safe. I thought the imperial family, who’ve guarded against Inayari for generations, could protect you.”
“If I die, what happens to the barrier?”
Sys’s grip tightened, his body stiffening. My father’s face turned waxy pale, his firm lips trembling.
“I’ll protect you no matter what.”
“I’m not planning to die quietly. So tell me—does my death break the barrier?”
“…Yes.”
My father averted his gaze, his tone heavy. Instinct told me he was hiding something.
“Does my death alone break the barrier?”
“Bee…”
Sys called my name, his voice laced with pity.
“What more are you hiding?”
Sys rubbed his face, as if washing it, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke lowly.
“Two conditions are needed to break the barrier: a Pison heir with the same traits as the founder, and a specific ritual site.”
“So, I’d have to die at that site to break it?”
“…Yes.”
He nodded reluctantly, his face unwilling.
“Where’s the site?”
“Erharak Hall.”
“Unexpected.”
Erharak Hall was used only for grand imperial events like coronations or royal weddings; otherwise heavily guarded by imperial knights.
“Was the hall built there deliberately?”
“Yes. To keep it hidden yet secure, it had to be in plain sight.”
Indeed, no one could act there without the imperial family’s notice.
“If I died right now, what would happen to the barrier?”
Their faces contorted. I understood why they’d kept silent.
“Unless I die in Erharak Hall, the barrier stays intact?”
El was the only direct Pison heir, but the bloodline extended to countless collateral branches.
As long as Pison blood endured, the barrier held—unless the conditions to break it were met.
I’m a weakness.
If this got out, fear-driven people might try to kill me. No, they’d choose to eliminate me rather than live in fear of the barrier breaking.
A hollow laugh escaped me.
“If people knew, they’d swarm me like bees.”
Their faces paled further, eyes filled with pity and anxiety. I met their gazes steadily.
“I understand why you kept it secret. But why hide it from me?”
“Bee…”
“…”
They clammed up again. I could see their thoughts clearly.
“Did you think I’d kill myself if I knew?”
I felt how much they’d agonized over protecting me. Knowing the truth cleared my mind.
“You worried for nothing.”
I smiled at them.
“Don’t you know my personality by now?”
I’m selfish. I don’t know how they see me, but I’d never sacrifice myself for others.
For whose sake?
Sacrificing for those I love?
Even if I saved the world with my life, would those who truly love me rejoice?
No, that’s just self-satisfaction.
I’d never play the martyr. I’d fight tooth and nail to live happily with those I love.
For myself and them—absolutely.
To hell with world peace!
“I won’t kill myself.”
Once was enough. Besides, there was no guarantee I’d be the last.
If I sacrificed myself only for another with the founder’s traits to appear, my death would be for nothing.
“Has anyone else with the founder’s traits been born?”
My father, still uneasy, answered readily.
“A few, from what I know.”
“What happened to them?”
His lips tightened, his face grim, as did Sys’s. I didn’t need words to understand.
“They died. No, they were killed.”
It was likely a logical choice. My father and Sys’s insistence on protecting me was the anomaly.
Now I understand why no one with golden-brown hair was born in House Pison. They weren’t absent—they were erased, for the “greater good.”
“How often are people like me born?”
“No set pattern. But it’s not frequent. You’re the first in centuries.”
“Then the Inayari would seize this chance.”
“Bee, this is about your life, not someone else’s!”
Sys’s face flushed at my detached tone.
“I know. That’s why I’m thinking without emotion.”
I tapped the table. Sys still looked displeased but didn’t press further.
“Can I see the records?”
Their accounts had limits. I needed primary sources. My father shook his head.
“As I said, House Eliant’s records were lost.”
“What about House Pison’s?”
“Count Pison said their secrets are passed orally.”
“No written records?”
With my grandfather gone, who held those secrets? Perhaps Evan or Anasha, but it’d be oral, likely similar to my father’s account.
That left House Retan and the imperial family.
Going to Retan’s western estate would take too long. Regrettably, it wasn’t feasible now.
Sys, catching my gaze, sighed.
“Imperial records are accessible only to the emperor and confirmed heirs. The Black Priests guard them.”
“So, I can’t see them?”
