The One Who Holds the Fake Princess Night After Night

The moment the words left the knight’s mouth, Karsten’s brow furrowed and he quickened his pace.

The scene inside Ipin’s cell was brutal. He’d bitten down on the leather gag so hard it had nearly been crushed between his teeth. His severed tongue had rolled back into his throat, tangled with the gag, making for a gruesome sight.

“Why would he do such a thing…”

Karsten checked Ipin’s condition, then gave orders to the knights around him.

“Throw the body outside the castle’s back gate.”

As soon as Karsten gave the order, two knights carried the body away on a stretcher.

The moment the corpse was dumped outside the castle walls, a man with his hood pulled low over his face approached.

“Tsk, useless now.”

It was the same man who had threatened Ipin and ordered him to kill Karsten.

After confirming that Ipin had returned as a cold corpse, he glanced around and slipped away.

Benon quietly followed after him.

‘There must be someone waiting for news from Ipin. Benon, follow that man.’

Sensing that someone else was behind all this, Karsten had quietly given Benon his orders.

After following him for some time, the man finally took off his hat in front of a building in the Allecci shopping district.

As he removed his hat, another man approached him.

“Master, we’ve received a large shipment of fine cloth from the north. Where should we store it?”

“Keep it safe in the warehouse. It’ll be delivered to the House of White soon.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Benon eavesdropped, he took note of the sign above the building.

Rediac…

It was a merchant company that had recently begun supplying cloth to House White.

The man’s face also seemed familiar.

‘The owner’s name is…’

If Benon’s memory served, his name was Heremon.

“You, come here.”

Heremon’s voice echoed from inside the building.

Benon held his breath and listened intently.

“Go to the Marquis of Etro’s residence at once and tell them the Jackal is dead.”

Moments later, the door opened and a man stepped out.

Once Bennon confirmed which direction the man was heading, he immediately made his way back to the ducal estate.

After hearing the whole story from Benon, Karsten murmured quietly to himself.

“They’ve expanded so suddenly lately…”

He’d already found the rapid growth of the Rediac merchant company suspicious.

“And the Marquis of Etro is involved as well…”

Now that he knew about their collusion, Karsten was able to piece together all the scattered pieces of the puzzle.

The picture those pieces formed pointed in a single direction.

Pophia Palace.

The grandest palace of the royal household—the Empress’s residence.

Karsten stood and gazed out the window. Ominous clouds were gathering outside.

“A long rainy season is coming.”

It was the first sign of the storms about to begin.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

“The Jackal is dead.”

Information received from the Rediac Merchant Company prompted Jerron to rush to the Imperial Palace.

He headed straight for Pophia Palace, the empress’s residence.

Upon arriving in the reception room, he found the Empress in the company of another guest.

“I greet Your Majesty the Empress and His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“Welcome, Marquis.”

“The Crown Prince, Fedriol.”

As she poured the tea into the cups she had laid out in advance, Eglet turned to Jerron.

“Come and have a seat, Marquis.”

At her invitation, the marquis forced himself to move his heavy feet and approached them.

The tea in his cup gave off the same scent he’d noticed in the Pophia Palace greenhouse before—Abetus, a poisonous herb said to be used for t*rture in the northern regions.

Suppressing a tremble in his hands, Jerron gripped the teacup.

Eglet watched him closely and smiled.

“So, Marquis, what brings you to Pophia Palace so suddenly?”

“…The Jackal is dead.”

In an instant, the smile disappeared from Eglet’s face.

There had been many jackals over the years. But they had all returned as cold corpses.

Ipin was the spy who had survived longest near Karsten.

Now, they had no jackals left.

Eglet’s eyes grew cold as she looked at Jerron.

“So you’ve come here just to boast about your own incompetence, Marquis?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Instead of standing here, you should be thinking about sending the next Jackal.” Why did you come to Pophia Palace in the first place? Were you hoping for some sort of divine revelation?”

“My, Mother, please, let’s calm down.”

At Fedriol’s gentle admonition, Eglet’s flushed expression softened a little.

She regained her composure and spoke again.

“Marquis, raise another Jackal.”

“Mother, I have a better move.”

“A better move, Crown Prince?”

Sensing that Fedriol was plotting something, Jerron quickly interjected.

“Your Highness, a rash move now could turn against us.”

“No, Marquis.”

Ignoring Jerron’s warning, Fedriol rose from his seat.

“Sometimes a bold move can bring luck our way.”

His expression made it clear that he was ready to set something in motion at any moment.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

Immaculately dressed in his uniform, Karsten walked briskly across the palace grounds. He had been summoned by the Emperor with great urgency that day.

When he arrived at the doors of the audience chamber, the attendants flanking them swung them open.

At the far end of the room, on a raised dais, sat an elderly man.

Karsten strode down the splendid hallway with measured, dignified steps. At the far end, he bowed his head towards the seated figure.

“I greet Your Majesty the Emperor.”

The man seated at the highest place was none other than Raician, the sun of the Pensia Empire.

“Ah, Duke of White. I hear there was a minor disturbance at the southwestern border.”

The Emperor’s kindly voice came with a faint smile.

“The trouble at the southwestern border has been resolved. It was caused by an accidental incident on the part of the Duvali Empire. We were able to settle everything peacefully, without bloodshed, through mutual agreement.”

“Indeed, Duke of White. You have done well.”

By the time he had finished speaking, the Emperor’s voice had grown hoarse.

Hearing this, Karsten was reminded of the fleeting nature of life.

Raician had once ruled the empire with the force of a god, earning him a reputation as a mighty monarch. Yet even he could not stop the passage of time — he was only human, after all.

The Emperor lifted a handkerchief to his mouth and began coughing repeatedly.

The royal physician, waiting nearby, hurried to his side.

“Your Majesty, perhaps you should end the audience here for now.”

“Cough, cough—How could I simply send away one who’s served so well—cough—just like that?”

The Emperor waved away the physician’s concern.

At that, an attendant appeared carrying a large box and stood before Karsten.

The Emperor spoke in a low voice.

“Accept this, Duke.”

The box was handed over to Karsten.

“I remember you mentioning that you were looking for your sister the last time you were here. I still remember, from my conversations with your father, just how much he cherished her.”

“…”

“This is the fabric your father wished to dress your sister in. Go on, open it.”

The attendant at Karsten’s side lifted the lid of the box.

Inside was a length of cloth, its deep, beautiful green just like Laterna’s eyes.

Suddenly, Karsten recalled something his father had once said:

“There was a dress I wanted to see Laterna wear. Not being able to dress her in it still weighs on my heart.”

Karsten had once asked his father what dress he meant, but his father never told him.

“It will suit your sister’s eyes perfectly.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

And he truly meant it.

‘It would look perfect on Breti.’

Karsten’s lips twitched with surprise.