Chapter 7: Rui’s Secret (7)

Near the lake, Rui continued to burst into bright, innocent laughter. It might have seemed novel at first, but Rui had clearly taken a deep liking to the lake.

And now, thanks to their frequent—and often unexpected—encounters, Terian had learned that much.

It had been barely over two months since they’d first met.

And yet… Terian already felt oddly familiar with the child. Rui seemed to prefer wandering toward the imperial palace for his walks.

When Larie wasn’t around, Terian found it easier to relax and connect with the child. Sometimes, Rui would show curiosity about the interior of the imperial palace, and Terian allowed him to explore freely. It seemed the nanny had tried to keep such adventures in check, but still.

Terian was lost in thought, absentmindedly watching Rui, who now walked confidently without even needing to hold the nanny’s hand.

And then—without warning—Rui tripped and fell.

“Your Majesty!”

“Waaahhh…!”

The nanny’s urgent cry was followed by the wailing of the child, echoing along the lakeside.

In that instant, Terian bolted forward without thinking.

“Your Majesty…?”

The startled chamberlain rushed to follow him. Terian crossed the grassy field toward the lake in an instant and knelt beside Rui, now in the nanny’s arms, urgently inspecting the boy.

“Waaaah, uuhhh, waaaahh…”

The child sobbed uncontrollably, tears flowing like rippling lakewater. For some reason, watching them fall stung Terian’s heart.

“Y-Your Majesty…”

The nanny, pale with fright, scrambled to bow in greeting. Given the troubling report she had delivered earlier that morning, her nerves were already frayed.

“Uuh… huuh… waaaah…”

Without hesitation, Terian gently took Rui into his arms and examined the scrape on the boy’s knee.

There was some blood, but thankfully, it was only a minor wound.

“You’re alright. No need to cry.”

“Is His Majesty alright…?”

“We’ve committed a grave offense, Your Majesty…”

The chamberlain, now caught up to them, quickly assessed the situation and questioned the nanny.

Seeing a royal child hurt—especially while the emperor was watching—left her visibly shaken.

“Enough. You’ll only startle the child more.”

Silencing them both, Terian pulled out the handkerchief he always carried. With care, he wiped the blood from Rui’s knee.

Only then did Terian become aware of the fact that he was holding Rui tightly against his chest.

Suddenly tense, he awkwardly patted the boy’s back a few times.

“Papa…”

That alone seemed to soothe him—Rui blinked his large eyes and stopped crying.

Relieved, Terian gave a quiet order.

“Summon the royal physician. And take care not to alarm the Empress.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Nanny, take even greater care in watching over the Prince.”

“I shall, Your Majesty.”

The nanny gently took Rui back into her arms and hurried toward the Empress’s quarters.

“……”

As the child’s figure receded, Terian was overcome with a strange feeling.

The warmth of the boy, so briefly held in his arms, lingered long after and seemed to burrow into his chest.

***

By the time Terian finished his duties, it was already late at night when he returned to his chambers.

Fortunately, the reports said Rui was fine. His knee injury wasn’t serious and would leave no scar.

Perhaps because the day’s plans had been completely thrown off, a deep fatigue now pressed on him. The thing he was seeking in the Great Mountain Range still hadn’t surfaced, which only added to his weariness.

“Sigh…”

Raking a hand through his hair, Terian sank into the chair on the balcony.

Maybe it was because the new moon was only days away, but the area around the lake looked unusually dark tonight. Watching the murky scenery, Terian tried to sort through the tangle of thoughts in his mind.

But fate, once again, hurled him into the current.

“Y-Your Majesty!”

There was no one stopping the hurried footsteps racing toward his room. At this hour, very few people had the right to approach his bedchamber.

“It’s urgent, Your Majesty.”

“The Captain of the Guard? Let him in.”

Terian’s brow furrowed even deeper—he wasn’t expecting the man.

The captain was supposed to be away from the palace.

“Weren’t you sent to the village?”

“I just returned from there.”

Still catching his breath, the captain straightened, visibly tense.

Seeing his expression, Terian felt a heavy foreboding sink in.

“The Prince’s age… is not what we thought.”

“…What did you just say?”

Before the words could even settle in his mind, Terian rose to his feet without realizing it.

It had been the very thing tormenting him all day. The timing felt almost like a cruel joke from fate.

“This is my failure, Your Majesty.”

The Captain of the Guard swallowed dryly as he saw the Emperor’s stunned reaction.

Things had certainly taken a troubling turn.

After uncovering the shocking truths of the Empress’s past, the captain had been burdened with a sense of responsibility. A man who had devoted his life to protecting the Imperial family, he couldn’t ignore what he’d seen—especially not now, as the Empire finally stood on the cusp of true strength.

He had revisited the village because of that. Something had felt off about the people who claimed to have known the Empress.

It was a gut feeling—he couldn’t tell what they were hiding, only that something was being covered up. The details of her past that had come to light suggested she had been exploited even there.

But the truth that emerged turned out to be something entirely different.

“When Her Majesty arrived at that village, she was already with child.”

“…What?”

To ensure there were no inconsistencies, he had carefully cross-referenced the villagers’ testimonies.

And then, he discovered something odd: the villagers all seemed to remember the Prince from strangely different points in time. Their timelines didn’t align.

“The house in the forest belonged to an old woman named Emma. She also worked as a midwife.”

“And?”

When they first found the Prince, they had taken it for granted that he was six months old.

Most of the investigation had focused on uncovering the father’s identity—so they had missed something crucial.

“It was Emma who delivered His Highness. Which means… the Prince was born in late spring, one year ago.”

“…Ha.”

With a hollow breath, Terian braced himself against the table.

From the beginning, the child’s real father had never been in that village.

A splitting headache followed. The torrent of emotions he’d failed to dam now tore violently through his mind. His vision threatened to turn red, and Terian closed his eyes.

When he first heard they had been feeding her infertility medicine, he had assumed all hope was lost. It explained perfectly why no child had come in those two years.

But according to Gafel’s confession, in the final weeks, they hadn’t given her infertility medicine—but poison.

And it had been precisely during that time that the two of them had shared a night together.

“…Forgive me. I accept full responsibility for failing to investigate this properly from the start.”

The captain of the guard knelt in apology, but Terian barely registered it.

All he could focus on was the fact that a child had been conceived in such a painful time—that Rui had been born of that suffering.

“…”

Suddenly, a thought struck him. The handkerchief.

The one he had used to wipe Rui’s blood earlier.

What if—

“I’m going to the Hall of Glory.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

Startled by the Emperor’s sudden movement, the captain scrambled after him to provide escort, carefully concealing his confusion.

“Bring me the handkerchief I used earlier today.”

Terian addressed the chamberlain who had come rushing over after hearing the commotion.

There was no issue retrieving the item—Terian’s handkerchief, stained with royal blood, had already been secured for proper disposal. What puzzled the chamberlain was the Emperor’s urgent demand to retrieve something soiled.

But even that brief hesitation proved too much for Terian.

“Immediately.”

His cold tone made the chamberlain hastily present the handkerchief. The moment the bloodstained cloth touched his hand, Terian moved with purpose.

The Hall of Glory was the royal treasury—sacred and heavily guarded. It wasn’t far from the Imperial Palace, and he arrived quickly.

“We greet the Master of the Lake.”

“Bring me the Proof of Divinity.”

“Excuse me? But, Your Majesty, that item is—”

The attendant in charge of the treasury was visibly flustered by the Emperor’s sudden arrival in the dead of night and his strange demand.

Especially because he had asked for that—the Proof of Divinity.

But hesitation came at a cost.

Terian grabbed the attendant by the collar with a sharp glare and growled,

“Bring it. Now.”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty!”

The Proof of Divinity was one of the most sacred relics passed down through the Laxtreen imperial line.

It was one of the few items believed to still carry the faint will of the divine, and it had the power to reveal blood relations. It was a legendary artifact in Laxtreen’s history.

The first Emperor of Laxtreen was said to have created a lake with his own hands and founded the empire. As a reward for his deeds, the gods had gifted him the Proof of Divinity.

This relic was typically used during the official ceremony appointing a crown prince, to confirm that the heir was truly of imperial blood. Its function was deeply tied to the legitimacy of the throne.

Because of that, using it outside of official rites was considered disgraceful. Though it was the fastest and most definitive way to determine lineage, emperors throughout history had rarely dared to wield it lightly.

But none of that mattered to Terian now.

“H-Here it is.”

The attendant returned, carrying a square brass plate. At each end of the plate was a shallow depression, smaller than the size of a child’s palm.

“You place the blood of the two individuals to be compared into the grooves on either side,” he explained nervously, placing the artifact on a gilded table.

Without a word, Terian nodded and removed one of his gloves. He clenched his fist, forcing blood to bead at the knuckles, and let several drops fall into one of the grooves.

After confirming his own blood had settled in place, he asked the attendant,

“Will blood from a handkerchief work?”