Chapter 5: The Truth Revealed (9)

“Damn that Avnir bastard! All high and mighty with his false piety!”

For days now, the baron had been trying—and failing—to gain access to the Empress’s palace.

With each rejection, his rage grew louder. Every time he flew into one of these tempers, the servants knew better than to stand tall—they flattened themselves to the floor, trembling.

It was frustrating, yes. But in a way, it only confirmed what the baron suspected: there was definitely someone inside the Empress’s wing.

And even if it wasn’t Larie, there was still value in forcing contact with whoever it was.

Seeing how fiercely Terian was protecting her, it was clear he was hiding something valuable. There had never been such tight security in the imperial palace before.

If power were what it used to be, the stiff necks of the palace ministers would have long been shoved into the ground. Knowing that things would have been easier if only their financial resources were intact, the Baron ground his teeth furiously.

“Damn it!”

Not long ago, a foolish count had been captured by that Avnir bastard.

The charge was tampering with estate tax rates, which was laughable. It was probably just a show to gain favor with those lowly worms.

The real problem was that the count had deep ties to Tromperie’s business. Especially the kind of business that was kept hidden from the royal court.

When importing large quantities of coal, volume inevitably increased. So it was easy to hide prohibited items beneath the crates.

The count’s territory was located along the route where the coal entered. Thus, he had actively assisted Tromperie’s smuggling operations.

Could that Avnir bastard have known about this and still acted? Surely not, but what was certain was that it caused Tromperie a great loss.

“Bring me more wine!”

Furious, the baron gulped down the wine. Standing beside him, Gafel, with a strangely gaunt expression, opened his mouth.

“Father, I believe there’s another way.”

“What is it!”

The baron asked Gafel without much expectation. His one and only son had recently done nothing but disappoint him.

When a servant cautiously brought over more wine, the baron snatched it away roughly. Gafel, unusually not touching the wine, licked his lips and spoke.

“Send a letter and make Larie move on her own.”

At those words, the baron scowled fiercely. He instinctively raised his voice, then lowered it to growl at Gafel, wary of the servants’ ears.

“Foolish talk! That wench would never come back on her own!”

The baron and his wife had spent a lifetime thoroughly suppressing Larie to prepare for any potential upheaval. Even so, the moment they looked away, everything went awry.

She must’ve sensed something and fled from the Grand Duke’s estate—or perhaps clung to Terian. If she had any sense, there was no way she’d willingly return to Tromperie.

Noting his father’s reaction, Gafel licked his lips a few times and spoke quietly.

“We’re not trying to bring her here. We just make her so frightened that she runs away on her own.”

“Make her run?”

“Yes. That wench may be clinging to Terian for now, but her circumstances can’t be good. It’s not like Avnir would be treating her well.”

There was some logic in Gafel’s words.

While stirring up the palace interior, the baron had of course tried unofficial channels to infiltrate the empress’s quarters. But access to the empress’s palace was mysteriously sealed.

In hindsight, it looked as if someone were being imprisoned there. Larie’s situation couldn’t have been ideal.

“If we threaten her subtly, making it sound like we can take her back anytime—we both know how stupid she is—she’ll try to run. All we have to do is keep watch and snatch her up when she does.”

“Hmmm…”

The more he thought about it, the better it sounded. Dragging her back by the hair himself would be the most certain method, but there was no way to make that happen now.

Of course, there was still a problem.

“You do realize nothing goes in or out of the empress’s quarters right now, yes?”

“I’ve already found someone to deliver the letter.”

“What? Explain yourself.”

The unexpected answer made the baron’s eyes widen.

He’d been racking his brain, especially since every bribed insider had either been exposed or reassigned somewhere useless.

“Apparently, the maid we recruited had a close friend who’s still in the empress’s quarters.”

Upon further explanation, it turned out that one of the maids still inside was close friends with someone the baron had previously bought off.

By the emperor’s strict decree, the spy had vanished without a trace, and the maid, unaware of this, had been looking for her friend. It was a rumor Gafel had happened to pick up.

“Excellent! A letter’s nothing—she could deliver it right away!”

For once, it seemed Gafel might actually accomplish something significant. He’d been wasting his time in gambling halls until now, but maybe he was finally coming to his senses.

But then his next words swiftly sank the baron’s mood again.

“Ahem. So could you give me some money, Father?”

“What did you do with the money I gave you last time?!”

At the explosion of fury, Gafel hid his hands beneath the table. They had been trembling slightly for a while now, and he couldn’t stop them.

Gambling dens were, by nature, breeding grounds for illegal activity. Gafel had gotten into the habit of smoking a certain type of cigarette that “elevated his mood.” Before long, he had become quite dependent. At first, the suppliers had handed them over readily, but lately, they’d started demanding steep prices, far beyond their station.

The information Gafel provided was true, but the reason he needed money was a different story.

“I spent some gathering this intel. I’ll need more to keep things moving…”

“Utter nonsense.”

The baron laughed derisively, gulping down his wine greedily. His mocking tone grated on Gafel more than usual today.

“Stop wasting time in gambling dens and get it done with the money I gave you!”

“……”

His father had never been stingy with money—until he found out Gafel was frequenting gambling halls. Since then, the baron had cut him off. That was the main reason Gafel was in this state, though he preferred to twist the narrative to suit himself.

To him, his father’s desperation—panicking over a few failed ventures—was pitiful. And Terian, who had ordered a count’s execution over a few peasants starving? Equally ridiculous.

“Tch.”

Fuming, the baron hurled his glass at the floor and stormed out of the dining room.

Watching his retreating back, a cold glint flickered in Gafel’s eyes.

“Tch. Guess I’ll have to visit Mother.”

***

“How are you feeling?”

“……”

It had been a dreadful nightmare.

Pain that felt like her body had been pierced by iron spikes.

When Larié finally awoke, drenched in cold sweat, she still felt trapped in that nightmare.

Even though sunlight filled the chamber, the world before her eyes remained dark and oppressive.

“Rui…!”

“Your Majesty! You’re awake!”

“Rui, where is he?”

The head maid hurried over, but Larié asked only for Rui.

It wasn’t until the nursemaid entered, holding the child, that she could breathe again.

“Kyauu…!”

Even with the small warmth nestled in her arms, the unease didn’t subside.

With no way to quell it, Larié simply pressed her cheek to Rui’s soft face.

“……Please, eat something first.”

“His Highness has been very brave and well.”

The head maid and the nursemaid offered cautious comfort.

Perhaps because of that, bitterness returned to Larié like an old friend, laughing at her misery.

She vividly remembered what had driven her to run to the emperor’s quarters.

How a single move from her father had caused the ground beneath her to collapse.

And all she had to cling to… was a feeble twig.

That truth was no longer just sad—it ached.

She was trying to settle her churning heart when an unfamiliar voice rang out from outside.

“His Majesty, the Emperor!”

Terian had come the moment he heard she was awake.

As he entered her bedchamber, his eyes flicked to her—then to Rui.

That shift in his gaze made her chest tighten.

“How are you feeling?”

“……”

The child reached out harmlessly toward the unfamiliar presence. Larié quickly pulled him back into her arms and lowered her gaze.

Terian, silent for a long moment, finally spoke his purpose.

“The Baron will no longer be allowed to approach you freely.”

“Ah…”

“Whoever it may be—if you do not wish to meet them, you won’t have to.”

Could that really be true?

Could her family truly be kept from reaching her now?

In the Grand Duke’s estate, such a thing had never been possible.

But here in the imperial palace… what made it different?

Would it not be possible to leave altogether—to somewhere far, somewhere even her family couldn’t follow?

“…Please refrain from leaving the Empress’s Palace unnecessarily.”

Just as Larié’s mind brushed that unconscious hope, Terian’s voice cut in again.

“……”

At his words—words that once again tied her to this place—a phantom sound echoed in her mind.

The snap of another twig breaking.

‘Did I not tell you to stay by my side? Why do you keep trying to leave?’

“This is all for your protection.”

“……”

Though she knew it was rude, Larié could only open and close her dry lips, unable to speak.

It still felt like she was wandering in a half-dream.

A single flood of trauma was enough to leave behind filth and ruin that clung to her, haunting her still.

Watching her intently, Terian spoke again, this time his voice strained and slightly cracked.

“Why did you say I intended to use you in a political marriage?”

The weight of his gaze felt like it bore down on her crown.

Larié slowly looked up, only to meet his hard expression—he wouldn’t budge until she answered.

The fear of another collapse, of breaking all over again, pushed her to speak at last. Her gaze fell back to the ground.

“…I heard you were planning a marriage alliance to increase the import of coal.”

“……”

“Was I mistaken?”

“……”

His silence stretched.

And with each passing second, she heard it—

the sound of branches snapping, one by one, deep inside her.

“The delegation will come, but that was not the intent.”

…At last, no sound came.

“……”

It was something he had firmly denied as mere rumor before.

But now, hearing from his own mouth that it had been a lie—

Larié sank slowly into despair. Even her bitterness was crumbling beneath the weight of helplessness.

Perhaps, once again, the edge she stood on was just another cliff.

Would he spare Rui if she claimed he had no relation to her?

If Terian was merely wearing the mask of a gentleman, she would have to use even that.

He had shown mercy to the villagers during the inquisition…

…But was that even true?

Could he have hurt even those poor people?

“I’ll say it again. That wasn’t my intent.”

When Terian had first told her the rumors were false, he had been sincere.

And yet, things had taken a sickening turn.

Maybe he should have told her the truth the moment he decided to use the delegation.

But with the reason being Trompérie’s downfall, the words had stuck in his throat.

So now he could only drag behind him the weight of regret, chaining him down like shackles.

“The delegation is a tool. That’s all. You needn’t concern yourself with it.”

“…Yes.”

Larié answered obediently, perhaps because of his added explanation.

But Terian could feel it—she didn’t believe him.

Not once today had she looked him in the eye.

And her gaze—those green eyes he had longed for—remained hidden in the shadows.

She looked like a flower deprived of light, slowly withering.