Chapter 7: Rui’s Secret (8)

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty. According to the records, it will.”

At those words, Terian immediately placed the handkerchief onto the opposite groove of the brass plate.

A moment later, a strange resonance began to hum from the artifact.

“Please step back, Your Majesty.”

“…”

Terian took a step back, his gaze fixed on the plate.

Soon, the blood in both grooves began to vanish, seemingly absorbed into the brass. Even the stain from the handkerchief faded away.

Before the marvel could fully register, a glimmer appeared in the air above the center of the plate. As he watched, a brilliant, piercing blue light burst forth.

“This… this is…”

“…”

Even without the attendant finishing the thought, Terian already knew. The meaning behind the blue light emitted by the Proof of Divinity was well-known.

“It signifies that the blood belongs to direct kin, Your Majesty.”

The verdict of fate struck him like a blow, leaving Terian reeling in silence.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Y-Your Majesty, please… compose yourself… This isn’t—”

No sooner had he witnessed the blue light than Terian turned and stormed toward the Empress’s palace.

The commander of the Royal Guard, who had witnessed the result with him, paled and tried to dissuade him.

“Clear the way.”

But Terian couldn’t bear to stay still. Under the vast, black night, he needed to see Larie—immediately. After all the circles and suffering they had endured… it was too much to contain.

“His Majesty, the Emperor—!”

“Where is Her Majesty?”

“She’s already gone to bed… Your Majesty?”

He ignored the suspicious glance from the startled head lady-in-waiting who had rushed out.

Climbing the stairs without hesitation, Terian came to a stop in front of the tightly shut bedroom door.

“…”

He inhaled deeply—then knocked, hard.

And before a response could come from within, he pushed the door open.

“…Your Majesty?”

Larie sat blankly at the edge of her bed, already changed for sleep, stunned to see him there.

Startled by Terian’s sudden entrance, Larie slowly rose from her seat. The faint moonlight brushed her shoulder before gently cascading to the floor, and the moment felt unnervingly slow.

“…The child.”

The storm of emotion swelling inside Terian had become impossible to name.

Why had she hidden it? Had she truly trusted him so little? Why had she borne everything alone?

Was it resentment, pity, obsession? He couldn’t tell—only that it spun inside him like a whirlpool. Clinging to his composure, he forced the question out:

“Is the child—Rui—our child?”

It was a clear, direct question. Yet Larie bit her lip and dropped her gaze to the floor.

“…No.”

Only now did her feeble denial finally come into focus.

Why—why was she still trying to hide the truth?

Had she truly gone so far just to escape him?

The whirlpool inside him turned to black waters, flooding and engulfing Terian entirely.

“You say… no?”

His voice was cold enough to make Larie’s body tremble in tension.

She didn’t understand why Terian had come so suddenly, why he looked like this. Had he found out because of Rui’s sudden growth?

What could she do now? She had deceived him—what if the truth came out? The thought terrified her.

But as she faltered, struggling to decide, he spoke again—his voice like a final verdict.

“I’ve collected testimony from the village.”

Her racing thoughts froze—wiped clean in an instant.

He knew. It was over.

“You think I brought the child back, even if he wasn’t mine, only to let you go now?”

Though the moonlight was dim, Terian’s eyes glowed an icy blue.

And in that gaze, Larie finally understood.

There was no more room to hide. From the beginning, this ending had always been inevitable.

As if shoved forward by the shadow of a nightmare pressing down on her, Larie began to sink to her knees.

“Ah…”

But before she could even lower herself, Terian stepped forward. He grabbed both of her shoulders and roughly pulled her toward him.

Her vision abruptly shot into the air as her unsteady legs gave way—but Terian held her up without hesitation.

They were so close their lips could have touched.

“Say something. Make an excuse.”

His eyes were twisted with emotion—anguish, desperation, pain. Yet Larie couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

One thought kept spinning in her mind: What can I say? What can I say to keep Rui safe?

She wracked her brain desperately. Only after a long, trembling silence did her lips part to form a voice.

“…I’ll live like I don’t exist. I’ll never lay claim to the succession… I’ll run, far away from my family. So please…”

“The succession?” he repeated.

The fury that had pulled her close froze in an instant—as though he’d been struck.

The haze in his mind briefly cleared. When he peeled away the obsession and suspicion, his vision finally sharpened.

The body in his grasp was painfully thin—so much so that he could feel her bones.

“…”

“I’m sorry… please, I’m so sorry…”

It was then that Terian understood.

She wasn’t doing this to escape from him.

She wasn’t expecting anything from him at all.

Everything he’d said until now had never reached her. He hadn’t given her anything real to hold on to.

It felt as if all the blood in his body was draining to the floor, sticky and slow. His skin burned as though cut by invisible blades.

As though his ribs might shatter from the pressure, Terian forced the words from deep inside his chest.

“I know now… what Tromperie did to you.”

At those words, Larie’s eyes widened in shock.

Her heart, which had been racing with dread, seemed to crash all at once—slamming into the ground.

What exactly had he learned?

“How far are you going to make a fool of me?”

“I… I didn’t mean…”

The nightmares that had plagued her ever since she’d heard news of her father surged forth all at once—black shadows crawling to pierce her. She was about to apologize again, by habit—

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“….”

At his final words—low, and cracked—Larie froze, her lips clamping shut.

The scent of rain from that day still clung to her, dampening her constantly. The only thing that ever pushed that clinging moisture away was Rui. With his warmth in her arms, she barely managed to keep it at bay.

But that was all. To take in freshness again was impossible. Alone, she could never be a living, breathing tree again.

“…You’re right.”

“…”

And so, she realized painfully—what remained in her now was nothing but brittle, dried-up remnants of her heart.

“Who… was I supposed to trust?”

So she spoke in bitter resignation, mourning the foolishness of her past self.

And in that moment, she let go of the self that had never been able to do anything.

“That…”

Terian flinched at the sudden haze in her eyes.

This wasn’t how he meant to confront her.

He hadn’t intended to make her say such things—without even the strength to cry.

‘Don’t do anything.’

In the end, he had been the one to slap away the hand she’d reached out with that day.

“I won’t be a bother to you.”

‘Just live like you don’t exist.’

He had been the one who’d left her like this—so parched and brittle.

Even while she was within his reach, he had never given her any true warmth.

“So please… just let our Rui… be safe.”

In the end, he had reduced her to nothing but a hollow shell.

“Ah…”

It felt as though a giant of the mountain range had gripped his chest. A pain crushed his whole body, as if he were being shattered from the inside out.

Strength drained from the hands that had been holding her. He could almost hear the echo of something collapsing within—like wind sweeping through a forest, the sound of something that had been holding his soul together breaking apart.

He had always been a foolish husband. Even to someone like him, Larie had once approached with a sliver of hope.

And it was he who had struck it down with his own hands. Yet all this time, he had continued to harbor pitiful jealousy while looking at the child.

When she had not even the smallest reason to hope in him.

“…”

As he let go, Larie slowly sank to the floor. As if she had no strength left to even stand, she slumped helplessly.

She had looked the same right before fleeing the Grand Duke’s estate. Back then, before he had dragged her from the village, she had been so full of life.

And now he had done this to her again.

“Ah…”

Those green eyes turned to him. Though they held no trace of emotion, Terian covered his face with both hands.

A gaze that carried no expectation, no hope—yet it pierced straight through his heart.