59. It’s Still Just a Guess

“That’s why I only use this right hand. When I die, I’ll leave my right hand behind.”

The Empress Dowager’s lips curved into a graceful arc. She lifted her eyes, which had been cast down, and continued.

“Empress Consort, let me know the tea party schedule as soon as possible. Even if I have to make time, I’ll attend. And I’ll pray that you recover quickly and get back on your feet.”

As the Empress Dowager disturbed the air in the bedroom and left, Sasha and Joanna quickly came to Larael’s side to check on her condition.

Lillian and Kara, who had been watching everything from a distance, also came closer, looking at Larael with concern.

Lillian, still feeling the lingering chill that seemed to constrict her body, unconsciously hugged herself. Her teeth chattered audibly.

If the Empress Dowager could so casually grab the hair of the mistress of Abella Palace—someone favored by the Emperor—then someone as insignificant as herself could be crushed like an ant on the floor.

Even the knights who had briefly stepped outside returned to the bedroom. Seeing the maids’ pale faces, they could tell that something serious had happened.

Their expressions darkened noticeably. Even though it was something they couldn’t have prevented, guilt washed over them for not being able to protect the Empress Consort.

“It’s nothing, so don’t make a fuss.”

Perhaps this scene would become common if she truly started clashing with the Empress Dowager. Larael lay back in bed and spoke indifferently.

Sasha wanted to run straight to the Emperor and report what had happened. But Larael would never allow her to do that. Tears streamed down Sasha’s cheeks in frustration.

‘How nice it would be if Madam were here at times like this.’

No matter how many words she and Joanna said, a single warm hug from the Countess would have comforted Larael much more. All they could do was watch, unable to soothe Larael’s heart in any other way.

Larael quietly closed her eyes. Sasha, watching her, signaled to the others. When she heard the sound of Sasha, the maids, and the knights leaving, Larael slowly opened her eyes.

She sat up, hugged her knees, and looked down at her silver hair scattered across the bedsheets. Its messy, tangled state mirrored her own feelings.

With a bitter smile, Larael sat there unmoving until darkness crept through the window and filled the room.

As night fell, Sasha and Joanna carefully entered to light the lamps. They tiptoed toward Larael’s bed and were startled to see her sitting up.

“Your Highness, if you were awake, you should have called us.”

“…”

“Would you like something to eat?”

Instead of answering, Larael nodded.

“His Majesty didn’t say he’d be coming tonight, did he?”

“…No, Your Highness.”

Sasha hesitated, worried Larael might be disappointed that the Emperor wouldn’t be coming.

“Sasha, send a messenger pigeon to Count Winters. Tell him that I have a gift for Beatrice tomorrow, so she should stop by Abella Palace.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

***

Edward was flipping through the documents submitted by Ferma, the Tower Master, which contained the personal information of the wizards.

It was a list of the wizards he had requested, along with brief notes on their backgrounds and any notable details. However, there was no separate grouping of suspicious wizards, suggesting that the Tower’s own internal investigation hadn’t been done as Edward had instructed.

“Is this everyone?”

Edward set the papers down on his desk and asked. His gaze grew sharp. Ferma wet her dry lips and took a deep breath.

“Yes, that’s correct. There were no particularly notable details. However, there was one wizard who seemed a bit suspicious…”

“Then why didn’t you record it?”

Edward spoke slowly in a low voice, a furrow forming between his brows. Ferma swallowed and glanced around nervously.

It was not something she could say in front of so many people. Noticing Ferma’s discomfort, Edward ordered all the aides in his office to leave.

When Marquis Argen tried to leave with them, Edward stopped him.

“Marquis Argen, you can stay. Speak. Sit down first.”

After the aides left, Ferma, looking flustered, sat at the table in the middle of the office. Edward and Argen sat across from her. Ferma fidgeted with her hands on the table, watching Edward’s reaction. She wondered again if telling the truth was the right thing to do.

She wanted to brush it off and return to the Tower as if nothing had happened. But when she met Edward’s eyes, cold sweat ran down her back.

“Her Highness the Empress Consort already knew.”

She recalled what Nora, who informally referred to Larael as Empress, had said. Ferma had denied it, but in her heart, she agreed somewhat.

“What is it that you’re hesitating to say?”

Edward had waited for her to speak, but as she remained silent, his tone turned impatient. Ferma, who had been moving her lips, closed her eyes tightly.

“It’s still just my suspicion, but… I think the Duke of Anderman is involved.”

“Your evidence?”

Edward’s voice turned icy.

He hated hearing anything negative about the Empress Dowager or Herwen from those around him.

Although his relationship with the Empress Dowager wasn’t built on deep maternal affection, she had outwardly fulfilled her role as a mother enough that Herwen could say he lost his mother to him. Edward, too, treated her with the respect due to a mother.

If Edward had received enough love from his birth mother, he might have realized that what the Empress Dowager gave him wasn’t love but merely filled the void left by his mother. Then his feelings toward the Empress Dowager might have been different.

But, having never known a mother’s love, Edward thought his emotionless relationship with the Empress Dowager was no different from any other mother-son relationship.

This emotional deficiency was the basis for why Edward had initially intended to accept Larael as Empress out of duty alone.

He had mistakenly thought that romantic relationships were no different. But the more complex and varied his interactions with Larael became, the more he reflected on his relationship with the Empress Dowager. Still, realizing there was no love in that relationship didn’t come as a shock to him.

A relationship where they didn’t interfere deeply in each other’s lives and only fulfilled their given roles—that was just right for him.

But breaking that balance was not permitted.

“We conducted our own internal investigation. We looked into the movements of the wizards who inspected the palace for a week.”

“And?”

“We thoroughly questioned any wizards with suspicious activities. We even summoned them for direct interrogation. One of them confessed to hiding the monster there himself.”

“He confessed that easily?”

Edward tilted his head. With the minimum penalty being execution, it was hard to understand why someone would confess so readily.

“…I interrogated him a bit forcefully…”

Ferma trailed off.

“Thinking there might be someone behind him, we investigated further and discovered he had connections with the Duke of Anderman. There were even rumors that he had recently received support from the Anderman family. And, though it might be a coincidence, according to an informant, there was a recent Fenrir subjugation near Mount Decar, which is known for Fenrir sightings. The person who ordered the subjugation was Baron Brandon, a retainer of the Duke of Anderman.”

“What is the wizard’s name?”

“His name is Brooks.”

“Bring him here at once.”

At that, Ferma looked troubled and bowed her head.

“Well… Brooks is not in good physical condition…”

Edward frowned and leaned forward.

“Ferma, haven’t I told you to go easy when dealing with people?”

Ferma dropped her head and fidgeted with her fingers.

Edward had once watched Ferma t*rture a spy during his first war. Despite her gentle and caring appearance, Ferma was ruthless.

Watching her t*rture someone, Edward had even wondered if she was possessed by a demon. And when she finished and smiled at him after getting the results she wanted, he had shaken his head in disbelief. The two of them thought of each other as devils.

Edward let out a long sigh and asked,

“He can still talk, right?”