“I couldn’t acknowledge you back then.”

Franz, catching Heath as he was about to leave, asked for a drink. Heath, looking reluctant, sat down across from him.

“Don’t you remember me?”

Heath quietly studied Franz’s face. Then it dawned on him: he remembered Franz from when he had approached Kaiden after a political meeting in the capital.

When Heath’s expression signaled recognition, Franz Soyez grinned with satisfaction.

“I was going to say it was an honor to meet Axton’s son, but I thought you might think I was crazy, so I held back.”

Heath was momentarily startled, looking at him in shock.

“Yes,” he responded curtly, downing his shot. Franz followed suit, drinking as well.

“Does the Lady know?” Franz asked, frowning as if it was an odd question.

“That you’re Axton’s son? I doubt it.”

Heath’s brow furrowed again at Franz’s offhanded tone, which hovered between rude and ambiguous, making him uncomfortable. He was also uneasy about what Franz had discussed with Rohana earlier.

“Why? Do you feel the need to keep that a secret now, of all times?”

Heath, gently running his fingers along the glass, deflected the question.

“What exactly was your reasoning for making such an enormous decision?” he asked instead.

“You’re asking the same thing as Lady Rohana—no, the Duchess,” Franz replied, running a hand through his hair.

“How about we discuss it over drinks when we’re in Nopthal? Hahaha.”

Heath shook his head at Franz’s evasive response. But finishing the drink gave him a reason to leave soon, and tonight, for some reason, Heath felt like drinking. He poured more from the heavy bottle.

“How’s R.D. handling things?” Heath asked.

“As you know, Lazar is leading, and Aurelia is now the face of it. The public sympathy she’s gained among the Karks seems to have been kept from Rohana—excuse me, the Duchess,” Franz said, his gaunt face slightly grimacing as he switched the hand holding his glass.

“I see.”

“That’s not something that can be hidden for long, though,” Heath commented.

“I know.”

But she could possibly be the incarnation of *Caladrius*. Even though neither R.D. nor even she herself knew that yet.

If—just if—Rohana were to turn back to the Arins, a possibility he found strange and bitterly unlikely, it would be a devastating threat to the Karks.

“May I ask you a question?” Franz continued, catching Heath’s blue-eyed gaze, which signaled him to go ahead.

“When did things between Rohana and the Duke become like this? Is he really going to bear that political burden?”

Heath’s brows knitted so tightly they nearly touched.

“Did you say that to the Lady?” Heath asked.

“To the Duchess…” Franz sighed.

“I told her she has to decide for herself which side to stand on.”

Heath raised one eyebrow at Franz’s unexpected candidness.

“We’ve known each other since her childhood, when she was Lady Rohana Hanover,” Franz’s voice grew distant.

“There was something unique about her that I can’t quite explain. She had this ability to accept and endure everything. The exact opposite of me. So, her behavior lately has been completely unexpected.”

Heath took a long drink, trying to hide his racing thoughts.

“She was someone I always hoped I’d be friends with. Though, of course, she never treated me like one.”

Franz shifted in his seat.

“After seeing her face earlier, I got worried. That’s why I’m talking to you now.”

Heath couldn’t help but agree, even though he didn’t want to.

“Well… that’s something for the two of them to sort out.”

Franz shrugged at Heath’s cold response and finished his drink. At that moment, a knock came from the other side of the room. A member of R.D., likely one of Franz’s subordinates, entered, followed by a small woman.

“Having fun without me? That’s not fair.”

Aurelia.

Heath scraped back his chair and stood up.

“Well, I’ll take my leave.”

Just as Franz reached out to stop him, Aurelia spoke first.

“I find it strange that even you, Heath, are treating me like this,” she said, her golden eyes sparkling.

“I’ve survived this long by reading the room.”

Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked slowly and deliberately toward him.

“Why are you so angry with me? I understand Kaiden, but…”

Standing close to him, she barely reached half his height. Yet, from her small frame, a sharp and potent crimson fragrance filled the air. Heath quietly looked down at her.

“It feels like there’s some other reason. If you keep this up, people will start to misunderstand.”

Franz’s brow furrowed as he listened.

Heath remained calm, staring down at her.

“So, why don’t we all have a drink, just us R.D. members, before things get misunderstood?” she suggested.

“I’ve already left that…” Heath began.

“As the founder’s son, surely you can be exempt from such trivialities,” Franz interjected. Heath let out a long, thin sigh. Aurelia’s golden eyes sparkled innocently, like a child’s.

With a growing headache, Heath sat back down.

***

The dimly lit room felt as if time had stopped. The once dazzling golden decorations, which must have gleamed in brilliant sunlight, now stood faded and dull.

“Your Majesty, the Emperor has passed.”

At the quiet voice of a minister, the frail figure lying in an overly large bed responded with a sound that resembled a groan.

Bardi slowly approached the bed. It had only taken him four days to rush back to the capital after receiving Budier’s urgent message, but the former emperor looked even more frail than the news had suggested.

Bardi gently set down the tray he had personally brought in. Steam rose from the medicinal tea. The former emperor slowly lifted his body, his long, branch-like fingers—still scarred from battles—grasping the cup as he drank.

After some time, the former emperor spoke first.

“There was… a battle… I heard…”

The former emperor’s piercing blue eyes, brighter than Bardi’s, gleamed unnaturally even in the dark room. It was as though those eyes refused to admit the inevitability of death. Bardi’s expression remained cold.

“Yes.”

“…And you lost.”

There was a hint of anger in the weak voice. Bardi found it absurd. On the verge of death, the man still thought he could scold him like a child.

“Why… do you think I… stopped the unification war…?” the former emperor asked.

It was a question Bardi had never heard before.

“You must have lost confidence. You couldn’t be sure you’d completely defeat the Karks.”

Though slightly startled by his grandson’s new tone, the former emperor furrowed his brow and continued.

“That’s not it…”

The sharp gaze of the former emperor met the equally intense eyes of the current one.

“Because… it’s impossible to… completely destroy the magic-wielders… the monsters…”

“So you left Shatonwell alive and spared so many Karks in Nopthal. You left unfinished business,” Bardi replied.

The former emperor shook his head.

“They should have… been absorbed. I failed… and you… are failing even worse…”

The Arins’ fear and hatred of the Karks had been longstanding, largely because of the abundance of magic-wielders among them. Since the unification war, even mentioning magic-wielders had become taboo, as people tried to forget that past.

Rohana and other noble offspring, especially women, had probably never even heard of such things.

And now, to bring it up again?

Bardi sighed in exasperation.

“That’s why… I let Yurie… marry Dustin Delcliff.”

That was true. After hastily concluding the unification war, the former emperor had implemented his version of a conciliatory policy. Perhaps the Karks had hoped the world would change.

Until they all met untimely deaths, leaving behind young sons.

“I heard… you set a trap… to annihilate the Shatonwell army…”

The former emperor spoke haltingly, as if running out of breath. Bardi recalled the absurd scene he had witnessed.

“It was foolish… if you were going to win… you should have won decisively…”

The memory of the trap he had carefully prepared sucking in the armies of Shatonwell and Nopthal was still fresh in his mind. And the ridiculous, baffling appearance of that bird. Bardi clenched his teeth as he replied.

“If Kaiden Delcliff hadn’t intervened, we would never have lost to something like Shatonwell in the first place.”

At the mention of Kaiden—his daughter’s beloved only son—the former emperor’s sharp blue eyes twisted for a moment.

“You… can’t… defeat Kaiden…”

Bardi’s composed expression contorted.

“What did you say?”

“You… have never… been a match for him…”

The former emperor, who moments earlier had seemed as though he could stop breathing at any second, now gestured weakly with his twig-like hand, still exuding a strange confidence.

“If you can’t… win over Nopthal…”

A violent fit of coughing cut off his words. After some time, he resumed.

“You won’t… win…”

Bardi let out a soft laugh. He had heard this kind of talk countless times, so it didn’t bother him anymore.

Soon, the former emperor wouldn’t be able to say anything at all. In fact, he had only a little time left.

“Grandfather.”

“It’s… His Majesty the… emperor…”

“Aren’t you curious why your precious grandson never responded to your letters?”

The former emperor’s face hardened instantly.

“That grandson—me and my father—tried to kill him.”

The color drained from the former emperor’s face.