There Is No Light In The Empress’s Birdcage

Chapter 16: A Reason for Concern

“Haa.”

Elana exhaled a breath that trembled with excitement, struggling to steady her legs before they gave out.

If things worse than this lay ahead, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to endure them.

But there was no time to lose herself in such thoughts.

If not for what had happened eight years ago, such an absurdly rough kiss would never have been her first.

The bitter taste of reality cooled the racing heartbeat that had been set alight by the unfamiliar shock of the moment.

And once it did, the thought of returning to Geranine and Camela empty-handed weighed heavily on her.

‘What am I supposed to say to them now…’

Elana straightened, forcing her breath into order.

With her posture composed once more, she began to move her halted steps at a slow pace, her mind sinking deep into troubled thought.

But contrary to her worries, Geranine and Camela acted as if nothing were wrong.

“There must be a reason for the rush. We’ll find a way to make it work somehow, so please don’t worry too much.”

Instead, they comforted Elana and moved about more busily, even energetically.

“Alright. I trust you both.”

They had always been like that, and Elana smiled faintly, realizing her concern had been unnecessary.

Though there was a trace of bitterness in her smile, the two women pretended not to notice, as if by unspoken agreement—Geranine handling the wedding preparations, Camela packing the luggage, tackling the most urgent tasks one by one.

But the more they worked, the more their hearts sank.

Camela bit her lip hard and lowered her gaze.

The pitiful state of the clothes inside the small travel bag was beyond words.

‘So this is why they refused to let her enter the palace, no matter how she begged. I expected their words would be all show, but how can they be so vicious?’

Elana’s travel bag was unbearably shabby.

It was inevitable.

For years she had worn nothing but plain clothes resembling monastic robes—at most three or four sets per quarter.

Robellina had never permitted her much of anything.

Frayed garments, a simple hairpin to hold up her hair, clunky shoes lacking any grace—not a single thing was worth liking.

Camela was grateful she had at least brought along some new clothes she had prepared for herself, and she tucked them into the bag.

But though their heights and builds were similar, Elana had grown so thin—likely from not even being able to eat properly—that she worried whether the clothes would fit.

Wiping away a tear that had fallen, Camela quietly shifted to the side, pretending nothing was wrong.

“But, Your Highness.”

“Hm?”

Geranine stepped in front of her daughter, pretending to fetch the bridal veil while shielding her from view as she wiped her tears.

Then, with trembling eyes, she asked Elana:

“I saw correctly, didn’t I?”

“What do you mean?”

Elana’s face, a little too pale for a bride, made it clear she knew what Geranine was asking, but she feigned ignorance.

“I only caught a glimpse in passing, but… it was him, wasn’t it?”

“……”

Over the past four days, Geranine had heard many stories, and she already knew Calliod was Killian.

But she wanted confirmation from the princess herself.

Elana had never once brought him up on her own.

“Back then, I tried so hard to save him, yet all we ever heard afterward was that there’d been a collapse in the mine and he’d died. Even when envoys came and went from Gladius in the years since, not a single person claimed to have seen him.”

Elana stayed silent for a while before finally speaking with difficulty.

“He’s not the kind of man to die so easily. All this time, he must have sent someone else in his stead, to prepare for a day like today. It would have been easier for him to move that way. And…”

She closed her mouth for a moment, as if to steady her breath, then lowered her voice, almost as though watching for someone’s eyes before continuing.

“We all… expected it, didn’t we? It would be a lie to say our hearts didn’t sink when we heard he was dead, but there were things here and there that lined up too neatly at the time.”

They had known of his existence only faintly, pieced together from a few traces amidst uncertainty.

Of course, without seeing him with their own eyes, there was always unease in their unclear conviction.

That was why they had prayed again and again for him to still be alive.

“Expecting it and facing the reality are worlds apart.”

“At least it’s fortunate that what we attempted back then didn’t fail.”

Elana instinctively touched her chest with her palm.

Until that incident, she had always kept her mother’s emerald pendant hidden beneath her clothes at that spot.

It no longer existed, but whenever she felt exhausted and ready to give up, she would press her hand there to steel herself.

“I used to worry that the mine’s overseer might just steal the pendant and run off… But yes, it’s fortunate we succeeded.”

“It’s thanks to you two, who worked hard in my stead when I couldn’t move freely.”

“But… it feels strange. Seeing him in person now, my heart…”

Geranine lowered her head, a complicated heaviness weighing on her chest.

“Nanny.”

“Your Highness, you’ve suffered so much all these years. I’m relieved it wasn’t in vain, and yet…”

Geranine hesitated, recalling the countless nights Elana had spent working in secret, slipping past Alan’s and Robellina’s watchful eyes.

How many nights had she run herself ragged for his sake?

Forgetting her dignity as a princess, crawling through the small opening that led outside the palace, hiding in filthy pubs disguised as a traveler to eavesdrop on those who crossed the borders, gathering every scrap of knowledge that could aid the war—Elana had spent the past eight years like that.

And would he even know any of this?

The little princess who was supposed to walk only a blessed path… Who would have thought her life would be nothing but a road of thorns.

Geranine’s heart ached at the thought that Calliod would never know the dangers Elana had braved and the hardships she had endured.

“Will you not tell him the truth?”

After a quiet, steadying breath, Geranine asked with resolve.

But Elana, without even the smallest hesitation, firmly shook her head.

“There’s no truth to tell. Everything happened because I was lacking. Because I was lacking, his father died, he became a slave, and his house fell apart.”

“But if you said that day’s decision was the will of Duke Ridges, wouldn’t that ease the burden you carry?”

“Then that burden lifted from me would only fall onto him. And it was my own inadequacy that made me accept Duke Ridges’s decision that day. Besides… when people suffer, they survive by having someone to resent, to blame. I don’t want to take even that from him.”

Elana had lost her mother at a young age, and at the same time, in place of her bedridden father, she had to stand as the king’s regent.

She had struggled desperately to do well, only to lose her respected mentor and her beloved fiancé, and then live for years in confinement.

Everything that had descended upon her before she was even fully grown had been crushing—

the loss of her parents, the heavy responsibility that came with it, the guilt that weighed her down, and the helplessness she was forced to endure.

‘For him to resent me wholly, to have me as someone to blame.’

This was the only form of atonement Elana had come to understand—

the only way she knew to pay for the crushing weight she had borne before she was even grown enough to measure it.

“……”

“It was because I wasn’t capable enough that Robellina found a way in. Setting aside our personal relationship, as the heir to a kingdom I couldn’t even protect one of my own. I’m not worthy of forgiveness.”

“It wasn’t as if you wanted things to turn out that way.”

“That doesn’t erase what I’ve done. I sacrificed him so he could live. What I did with these hands will be here forever.”

Elana looked down at her own hands.

The moment poison had passed from them into Duke Ridges’s hands was still vivid.

‘I couldn’t protect him. That guilt will never fade, not even in death.’

Clenching her fists tightly, she spoke to them with firm authority.

“Nanny, Camela. Remember this—never tell him anything. I failed in both my duty as royalty and in my obligations as a human being. This is the punishment I must bear.”

Even if it was something she never wished for, the outcome did not vanish.

She refused to let the victim be burdened with the circumstances of the perpetrator.

That was why she had no intention of telling him anything about what had happened that day.

It was also the reason she wouldn’t bring Geranine and Camela to Gladius—life there would surely not be smooth, and if they saw him, they would be desperate to tell him the truth.

Elana sent them a look, clearly expecting their promise.

“Yes. We won’t say a word. Then… the remains of Duke Ridges…”

“I’ll tell him myself when the time comes.”

“If that is Your Highness’s wish, we’ll follow it. But… will you be all right?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not a good bond, is it? It’s a tie so tangled it’s bound tight. There’s too deep a wound between you. I, Geranine, can only feel anxious.”

Setting the veil gently aside, Geranine lowered herself and took Elana’s hands quietly in her own, and they trembled.

Elana gave a small, careless smile, as if there were nothing to be troubled about, and replied without the slightest hint of hesitation.

“Why wouldn’t I be all right? I suppose we were just meant to meet again like this.”