Chapter 50
“Me?”
As Belia hesitated, the Marquis opened his mouth.
“Sof and I took turns watching over you back then, every night from midnight until morning. Your room was nearly empty because you would often throw things. That day was no different. I headed to your room, and you…”
“What about me?”
The Marquis tightly shut his eyes.
He buried his face in both hands.
“No matter how much you’ve recovered, I wonder if it’s right for me to say this. Belia—no, Ria.”
As the Marquis faltered, struggling with conflicted eyes, Belia clasped his hands.
“Please tell me, Father. I’m really okay.”
Feeling the warmth of her firm hands, the Marquis recalled the nightmare he had locked away in his memory.
“…Inside that dark room, your limbs were twisted unnaturally.”
“What?”
The Marquis clenched his eyes shut again.
“Just as I said. You bent your neck back with your arms and legs outstretched in the wrong direction, then stared at me when I opened the door. And then… you grinned and said you would kill me.”
“That’s absurd…”
“Yes. It didn’t make sense. My precious daughter, so fragile that I never even dared to hold you tightly, looked like some hideous monster.”
“Then what happened? Acting like a monster—what did I do next?”
“You collapsed right away. I just thought… well, that you’d gone mad. You’d said strange things before, so I thought it was just another fit, only worse this time.”
“And then?”
“But what you said that day was real.”
With pained blue eyes, the Marquis looked at Belia.
“You truly tried to kill me.”
Goosebumps ran across Belia from head to toe.
Seeing her stunned face, the Marquis spoke again.
“Remember how my aides grew tense when you entered the office? They remembered too. You once came into this very office carrying a sword.”
Belia swallowed hard.
“…You stabbed me.”
“Is that even possible? This office—”
“Yes. It’s protected by a barrier. A spell passed down for hundreds of years since the founding of our house. But you broke through it and slipped into this office. And then, when I walked in, you stabbed me.”
“Why would I ever… stab you, Father?”
The Marquis grasped Belia’s arms as she wavered in confusion.
“It wasn’t your fault. Belia, listen carefully. You were sick then. You had no intention. And look! I’m still here, alive.”
Belia’s hands trembled uncontrollably at this unexpected revelation.
“Stabbed? Me?”
“Ria, lift your head. Please, don’t blame yourself.”
At her father’s desperate voice, Belia slowly raised her head.
Her eyes were clouded with fear, anxiety, and confusion. Seeing that, the Marquis furrowed his brows, as if sharing her torment.
But he could not stop now.
If she was to know everything, there was something vital Belia had to hear.
“The moment you stabbed me, I saw something.”
“…What was it?”
Her words quivered, as if she was afraid to even ask.
“Your eyes. They turned completely red. Crimson. The eyes of blood.”
“…Crimson eyes?”
Belia froze as a certain red-eyed figure flashed into her mind.
“Listen carefully. That accident was not a simple fire. Something happened to you in the flames of that mansion. Otherwise, there is no way to explain those eyes.”
The Marquis’s voice rang with conviction.
For eight long years, he had suspected it but never told a soul. Now, cautiously, he confessed.
“My guess is—you were caught up in black magic.”
“…Black magic?”
“Yes. Like a curse.”
Black magic.
“Find that man, Vain.
He dabbles in black magic…”
Carlton’s voice suddenly echoed in Belia’s mind, striking her like a hammer.
“The Imperial family claimed the Holy Nation only renewed the barrier in the Misty Forest. They hid the fact they treated you. Isn’t that suspicious? And on the day you tried to kill me, a full moon hung in the sky.”
“A full moon?”
“The day when monsters are at their strongest, and when black magic rituals were carried out in ancient times. And your eyes turning crimson… Everything points to black magic. I told no one, but you deserve to know—you were at the center of that incident.”
“I… I suspected it wasn’t just a fire, but still…”
“Ria, look at me.”
Belia swallowed hard, meeting her father’s unwavering gaze.
“That incident was never just a fire. I would stake all my rank and honor on it.”
With dry lips, the Marquis lifted his teacup.
“That fire was either born of black magic, or at the very least tied to it. Afterward, I tried to investigate. But the Imperial family had already buried everything. I don’t know why—but my guess is, with the children of noble houses harmed, they couldn’t risk letting the words ‘black magic’ spread.”
“Because of the Crown Prince’s curse rumors?”
“Exactly. After those rumors, not only the prince but the entire Imperial family carried that burden. But I also suspect the Holy Nation was involved.”
“The Holy Nation?”
“When other nobles attacked the Imperial family, I made a deal with the Emperor—so you could receive treatment from the Holy Nation. But the Emperor’s attitude was strange. It seemed he was forced to cover something up.”
“Cover something up? Why?”
“At the time, the incident was too overwhelming to question. But looking back now—the rumor of the Crown Prince’s curse spread too fast. Strangely fast. Almost as if someone deliberately spread it.”
“Father… are you saying the Holy Nation did that?”
“I have no proof. But yes—that’s my belief.”
“Why would the Holy Nation? Even if black magic was involved, wouldn’t they want to expose it? To prove their righteousness and divine power?”
“That could be exactly why they hid it.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Misty Forest fire may have revealed the Holy Nation’s shame. To hide it, they may have tied the Imperial family’s hands and bargained with your treatment as the price.”
“Their shame?”
The Marquis rose and walked to his desk.
He bent down and took hold of the lock on the lowest drawer.
“The key should be…”
Feeling along the inside of the desk, he found a hidden compartment.
Click.
With a small sound, the Marquis retrieved a key and opened the locked drawer.
“Here. Look at this.”
He held out an old piece of paper and approached Belia.
“What is this?”
Belia frowned as she took it.
“…Isn’t this written in Etel tongue?”
“Yes. Exactly. It’s a newspaper from the city-state of Etel, dated precisely eight years ago.”
“A… newspaper?”
“The city-state isn’t like our Empire or kingdoms. They pursue knowledge and understanding. They even have organizations dedicated to reporting news. Every week, they publish a paper, recording incidents and major events.”
“I see.”
Belia studied the paper closely.
As she did, the Marquis absently fiddled with a pipe he couldn’t bring himself to light in her presence.
“The people of the city-state are progressive and inquisitive. Bold enough to investigate even the closed-off Holy Nation.”
“…‘Holy Nation Relic Theft’?”
“Yes. That article.”
Belia carefully sounded out the Etel words she had learned as part of her education.
<A Relic of the Holy Nation Stolen?!>
“…The Holy Nation is in uproar over a fire in their most secure temple. Since no external intrusion was possible, suspicions fall on someone inside. According to sources, there is evidence that a sacred relic was stolen by an internal infiltrator. The Holy Nation dismissed it as a minor fire, but eyewitnesses of the blaze told a different story.”
“Relic theft?”
“The relics of the Holy Nation truly hold mysterious powers. That’s no myth—it’s fact.”
The Marquis rubbed his pipe repeatedly as if trying to calm himself.
“You know from our family’s own books on regenerative powers—relics hold supernatural might.”
“So how does this theft connect to the Holy Nation’s shame?”
“After suspecting their involvement in the Misty Forest fire, I investigated the Holy Nation. That’s when I found this article—and noticed something odd. The journalist who wrote it is dead.”
