Chapter 1
Prologue
Footsteps echoed rhythmically through the darkness. Gareth, who had been sitting on a garden bench staring at the pond, turned his head toward the corridor.
Barkas, dressed neatly in the uniform of the Imperial Knights, was walking out along the long arcade connecting to the garden. The sight reminded him of a snake slowly swimming through deep, dark water.
He sometimes wondered why that was.
Faded flaxen-blond hair, blue eyes tinged with silver, skin like plaster...
How could a man made up entirely of such pale, washed-out colors—like an old piece of parchment—exude such an eerie atmosphere?
Whenever he faced the man, a chill would run down his spine for no particular reason.
"Your Highness, the Crown Prince."
The man placed a hand over his chest in greeting. Gareth waved a hand roughly, his expression irritated.
"Cut the pointless formality."
Even though the man belonged to the Imperial Guard, he was soon to succeed Grand Duke Sirchan and govern the eastern region. He was by no means someone Gareth could treat carelessly. And yet Gareth jerked his chin at him as though addressing some lowly subordinate.
"How long are you going to make me look up at you? Sit."
Despite his rude attitude, the man's expression didn't change at all. Not annoyed, but not servilely obedient either—with an indifferent look on his face, the man sat down on the marble bench.
The crown prince studied the man's finely sculpted, almost inhumanly perfect features. At a glance he seemed the same as always, but it wasn't hard to guess that he was in a rather foul mood.
Had something gone wrong, perhaps? Narrowing his eyes, Gareth threw out a probing question.
"How did the interrogation go? Don't tell me you failed to find out who's behind this."
"I found out everything there was to find out."
The man answered in a flat voice, pulling down the tightly buttoned collar of his coat with one hand.
"But it's not likely to be the answer Your Highness wants."
Gareth arched one eyebrow.
"Explain."
"The drug that ended up in Her Highness the Princess's cup didn't come from the Empress's palace."
"Then?"
"It was something the imperial apothecary had prescribed to a maid working in the main palace. Apparently it isn't even classified as a poison to begin with. It only causes side effects like vomiting and stomach pain when taken in large amounts all at once, so it isn't strictly controlled either."
"So you're telling me a maid from the main palace suddenly lost her mind and dosed my sister's cup?"
The crown prince let out an incredulous bark of laughter. But the tendons in his thick neck were drawn taut. It was a sign that he was furious.
Yet as Barkas looked at Gareth, whose face was flushed red with anger, his gaze remained endlessly dry.
"The maid didn't put the drug in herself."
"Then who's the culprit!"
He lost his patience and raised his voice.
"Stop dragging this out and just tell me the conclusion! If it wasn't the Empress scheming and it wasn't the maid making a mistake, then who dared to tamper with my sister's cup?"
"The Second Princess did it."
At the flatly delivered answer, Gareth, who had been fuming, froze.
"That wretch?"
The crown prince's face twisted savagely. When the Empress was mentioned, the crown prince was like simmering lava. But when it came to the bastard child that woman had brought with her, he looked like a man with the filthiest thing in the world in his mouth. A grinding sound leaked from his clenched jaw.
"That lunatic girl is more than capable of it. When it comes to my sister, she's a wretch so blinded by jealousy she can't tell right from wrong..."
Even at such vulgar cursing, fit for a street thug, Barkas showed no reaction. Gareth, staring intently at the unmoved man, couldn't let go of his suspicion and pressed on about the Empress.
"Even so, isn't it a bit early to be certain that Senevier's... that woman's influence had nothing to do with this? There's every possibility she incited her daughter..."
"If that were the case, she would have used a proper deadly poison, not some prank-level drug like this."
Barkas said coldly. His pale eyes glinted faintly in the darkness.
"If it were the Empress, there wouldn't have been such a clumsy cover-up that got her caught this way, either."
Gareth fell silent, unable to find a counterargument. It was infuriating that the man had cut him off mid-sentence, but the contempt lacing his voice was satisfying to Gareth all the same.
That this young man, indifferent to nearly everything, would sharpen his tone specifically when it came to Talia Roem Girta—the imperial family's disgrace—was immensely gratifying to him. It felt like renewed confirmation that this man was on his side... on their side.
"Certainly... Senevier wouldn't jeopardize her own position with something this stupid."
Somewhat mollified now, Gareth spoke in a brighter tone.
"So Talia shot herself in the foot. I always knew she'd cause trouble someday."
He flashed a mischievous grin, the kind he used to wear back when he ran wild through the Academy.
"She must have lost her mind because you were taken from her and given to my sister. That upstart bastard child ordered around the heir to a Grand Duchy like her own errand boy for who knows how long—flaunting it every chance she got. Now that the knight she treated like her own personal toy is about to become the consort of the 'real' princess, of course that temper of hers finally snapped."
The man offered no reply. Barkas Raedgo Sirchan was not a man who spoke beyond what was necessary. So his silence wasn't particularly strange.
But at times, Gareth found this man's silence unbearably grating. This was one of those times. Staring hard at Barkas as though demanding an answer, he said,
"Regardless, this time that wretch won't escape punishment. If we play this right, we could even push it as attempted poisoning..."
"It won't go the way you want."
He cut off the crown prince a second time. Gareth's eyes turned sharp in an instant. But the eyes of the man looking at the future emperor of the empire remained utterly calm.
"First, there's only circumstantial evidence—no solid proof. If that woman is determined to deny it, proving she's the culprit won't be easy."
"That's what the maid who supplied the drug is for, as a witness—!"
"Do you really believe the testimony of a single maid would be enough to bring Senevier's eldest daughter before a tribunal?"
While Gareth floundered, unable to find a rebuttal, Barkas continued calmly.
"Second, even if it becomes crystal clear that this was the Second Princess's doing, dosing someone with a drug that merely causes stomach pain isn't enough to warrant a severe punishment. If she insists it was a harmless prank, at best she'll receive nothing more than house confinement."
"A harmless prank?"
Gareth, who had been listening quietly, finally lost his temper. He shot up from his seat and grabbed the future Grand Duke by the collar.
"Do you know what kind of humiliation the woman who's going to be your wife suffered in front of everyone? A girl who's never once shown herself in disarray collapsed vomiting in the middle of the banquet hall! Do you have any idea how much pain Aila was in, and you call that a harmless prank—!"
As though reliving the memory of that day, the crown prince's tanned face flushed dark enough to be visible even in the darkness. He gritted his teeth and seethed.
"Fine, I let it go at the time because I wasn't thinking straight—but I saw it clearly, Talia, that wretch, laughing from a distance while Aila collapsed! That filthy bastard who deserves to be torn limb from limb dared to do that to my sister—!"
"Your Highness."
Gareth flinched and let go. Though Barkas hadn't even raised his voice, a cold sweat instantly beaded on Gareth's back. Gareth stepped back and warily gauged the man's mood.
The man calmly straightened his disheveled clothing.
"That woman isn't someone worth this much of Your Highness's attention."
His voice was flat, as though stating the obvious fact that night follows sunset.
"All she does is torment people with tasteless pranks like this—that's the sum total of what that woman is capable of. Is it really fitting for the future ruler of the empire to lose his temper over something this petty?"
He spoke as though soothing a child.
Normally, Gareth would have exploded, demanding who he thought he was to lecture him—but knowing full well that he himself had crossed a line first, he held his tongue.
The man slowly rose to his feet. Even though he was committing the rudeness of leaving without asking the crown prince's permission, his movements were as smooth and natural as flowing water.
"I've already sent medicine to Her Highness the Princess to settle her stomach. Also, going forward, I intend to personally and strictly oversee all the wine and food served at Your Highness's table."
"So you're saying—just let it go?"
"If Your Highness insists on getting to the bottom of this matter and punishing the Second Princess, I won't stop you. But I'd rather not be involved."
At the indifferent reply, Gareth's face flushed. Barkas seemed intent on dismissing the whole affair as nothing more than a spiteful prank by an immature girl consumed by jealousy.
As he'd said, if the crown prince and the heir to the Eastern Grand Duchy made a fuss over such a trivial matter, it would only damage their own dignity.
Still, Gareth felt a strong resistance to his coldness. It wasn't simply because of his indifferent attitude toward his sister. Gareth shot him a suspicious look.
"You're not covering for that wretch, are you?"
The man, who had turned to head back the way he came, paused, then sent a glance back over his shoulder—icy cold.
Just then, a breeze blowing in from the lake gently ruffled his ash-blond hair. But the man's expression didn't waver in the slightest. A smile like a well-honed blade spread across his lips. It was the first expression to ever surface on that face, calm and still as a mask.
"Me? Cover for that woman?"
Barkas let out a low laugh, as though he'd just heard something amusing. But in his blue eyes, a sharp, razor-edged fury flashed.
Gareth was momentarily at a loss for words. He'd known this man despised Talia. But he hadn't realized he harbored such fierce hostility.
Wasn't this a man whose emotions had been thoroughly stripped from him by the priests? In fact, in all the years—over a decade—Gareth had known him, he had never once seen him show emotion.
Just what on earth had happened, that this stone-hearted man would bare his teeth like this?
Gareth studied him intently, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
He'd heard, back during the man's time as Talia Roem Girta's royal guard, that he'd suffered all manner of humiliation at that woman's hands—but he'd never once imagined Barkas would actually be affected by it.
Wasn't he far too proud a man to be swayed by the hysterics of an immature girl? Gareth had assumed that to him, Talia Roem Girta was nothing more than a nuisance, an irritation—nothing beyond that. But apparently, that wasn't the case.
Barkas's blue eyes, devoid of even a trace of warmth, glinted bleakly as he ground out through clenched teeth,
"I simply have no wish to ever be entangled with that woman again."
Then, as though there was nothing more to say, he turned and walked back the way he'd come.
Watching him recede without a sound, like a water snake gliding across a lake, a faint, sly smile crept onto Gareth's lips.
Whatever that wretch Talia did, it's worked out well for me.
If the man who was meant to be his staunch supporter hated his enemy this much, then their alliance would only grow stronger, wouldn't it?
Gareth rose from his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
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