RVMPT Chapter 123

Chapter 123

Jaina brought Ella to her private estate.

It wasn’t the grandest place in the Empire, but it was warm, clean, and spacious. The comfortable atmosphere stunned Ella.

She blinked in confusion as she stood in the entrance hall.

“You don’t need to wander out in the cold anymore,” Jaina said with a smile. “Stay here, Lady Ella.”

“…Me? Live here?”

“Yes. As long as you want.”

Ella swallowed hard.

Just when she thought she might freeze to death in the streets, someone offered her kindness. It felt like being handed a warm dessert after starving for days. It was almost too good to be true.

But as she looked into Jaina’s kind smile, she couldn’t shake her unease.

“I’m deeply grateful for your kindness, truly… but Lady Jaina, we’ve never been close. Why are you helping me now?”

They had exchanged only the most formal of greetings at social events. And yet, even the nobles Ella had once called friends had all turned their backs on her. Why was this woman, who owed her nothing, being so generous?

Jaina chuckled softly. “Lady Ella, we aren’t complete strangers.”

“…Pardon?”

Jaina smiled and walked deeper into the estate. Ella followed, still puzzled.

“I wasn’t especially close with you. But I once knew your mother.”

“My mother?”

“Yes. It’s been… five, maybe almost six years. I used to see her back then.”

That couldn’t be true.

Ella knew her mother’s circle very well during those years, especially after her father’s business failures isolated the family. Only two people had maintained any relationship with her mother at that time—and Jaina wasn’t one of them.

Jaina’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Unfortunately, around that time, your father—and you—started interfering with her attending certain gatherings.”

“…Me?”

Ella instantly remembered. There had only been one gathering that she and her father had stopped her mother from attending.

The Witch Assembly.

A cursed group that had nearly destroyed her mother’s mind with false hope and dangerous rituals. If Ella hadn’t secretly followed her mother that night, she wouldn’t be alive today.

All of the witches and their followers had been dragged to the Imperial Court and executed.

Jaina, though… Jaina was the Emperor’s favorite mistress.

‘No… it can’t be… I’m just overthinking.’

But then Jaina said, as if remembering something amusing,
“Oh, I also met you once back then.”

“…I have no memory of that,” Ella replied quickly.

Jaina walked over to a wardrobe and pulled out a dark cloak. Draping it over herself, she lowered her voice and spoke in a deep tone.

“How about now? Do you remember me?”

“…!”

Ella’s eyes widened in horror. Her breath caught in her throat. She stumbled back, struggling to form words.

“Y-you… Why are you still alive?”

“Isn’t it lucky that I am?” Jaina said smoothly. “Thanks to that, I’m here to help you.”

Jaina slowly approached.

Ella stepped back again, panic taking over. She had to get out—now.

“I-I think I’ll be going, Lady Jaina.”

“Are you sure? It’s still cold outside, and I’m sure it’s been difficult for you.”

Ella’s feet stopped moving.

Jaina calmly grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her in front of a mirror.

“Look at this. Your once-beautiful face has changed so much. That’s such a shame.”

Ella stared at her reflection.

Her cheeks had sunken in, her lips were cracked and dry, and her hair was rough and messy.

She had once been called the most beautiful girl on the continent. Now, she looked like any other tired, starving woman in the street.

“This can’t be me…”

She covered her mouth, trying to hold back a sob.

Jaina’s arms wrapped around her like a mother comforting a child.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner. But from now on, I’ll take care of you and your mother.”

Jaina smiled sweetly—too sweetly.

***

In the Marah Forest, Prince Andrew rode beside a group of nobles as they hunted. A fox darted from a bush, and the prince’s arrow flew true.

“Bullseye!”

“Haha! You’re on fire today, Your Highness! Not a single miss.”

“Indeed. Perhaps we should go deeper into the woods to test our skills further.”

“An excellent idea,” Andrew replied with a grin. “What do the rest of you think?”

“We’ll follow your lead.”

Laughter and cheers followed as Andrew led the nobles deeper into the woods. The sound of hooves crushing snow echoed softly between the trees.

“Come to think of it,” someone said, “isn’t the abandoned Daisy Palace located deeper in this forest?”

“Yes,” answered Count Pruos, an older noble who had lost a child to the witch trials five years ago. “That’s the old palace, right?”

Andrew nodded. “Exactly. Have any of you heard the rumors about Daisy Palace?”

“Rumors?” The nobles looked confused. Only one man, Baron Michael, nodded knowingly. He was Andrew’s ally and had been placed there for this moment.

“I’ve heard them,” Michael said. “They say you can hear screams and cries at night—ghosts haunting the palace. Is that the one, Your Highness?”

“That’s the one,” Andrew replied.

“What? Ghosts? Who would spread such nonsense about a royal palace?!”

Sir Charles, the captain of the Second Imperial Knights, turned red with anger.

“Calm down, Sir Charles,” Michael said lightly. “I’m just telling you what I heard. Several travelers near the area say they’ve heard terrifying sounds—wailing, crying. And not just once.”

“Could someone actually be hiding there?” another noble asked nervously.

Marquis Bamphir, owner of the Empire’s most famous newspaper, laughed nervously. “Ghosts don’t exist! Surely it’s just a squatter.”

The nobles whispered among themselves, their curiosity growing. Andrew smiled and spoke loudly.

“Why don’t we settle the rumor once and for all? Let’s see for ourselves if there are ghosts—or people—inside.”

Michael immediately agreed. The others hesitated but followed.

Except Charles, who looked deeply concerned.

“Your Highness, if someone really is inside, it could be dangerous. Please allow us knights, to investigate alone.”

“I agree,” added Bamphir. “Even if it’s not ghosts, it could be risky.”

Andrew pulled the reins of his horse and faced them all.

“Are we not the Empire’s bravest and boldest nobles? If any of you are afraid, feel free to turn back now.”

Then his horse shot forward.

“Your Highness!”

Charles cursed and rode after him. The rest of the nobles followed, not wanting to appear cowardly.

Even Bamphir, ghost stories or not, couldn’t be the only one who stayed behind.

Soon, they reached Daisy Palace.

“For an abandoned palace, it’s rather clean,” Michael noted.

“Suspiciously so.”

“I’ll go first,” Charles said, drawing his sword and stepping inside.

The nobles fell quiet as they followed, one by one.

Then—

“…Help… please!”

Everyone froze.

“D-Did you hear that? S-someone screamed!”

“It sounded like they were begging for their life…”

“It might be someone in danger,” Andrew said firmly. “We have to help them.”

They moved toward the voice. The sobs and cries grew louder. Soon they found a stairwell leading downward.

“It’s coming from the basement,” Charles confirmed.

Andrew led the way.

As they opened the door, the stench hit them first. The sharp tang of metal… and the foul, rotting smell of death.

“Oh… gods…” Michael covered his nose and nearly gagged.

Inside were prisoners.

Some sat on the floor, broken and lifeless. Others were sobbing, begging for help. Several corpses lay forgotten, swarmed by flies.

And then—

“…Duke Harold Baisen?”

There he was.

The man everyone thought was dead—was still alive.

Bound in chains.

Locked in a cell.