138. Not a Single Male Lead Feels Comfortable
When I stepped out after the Empress’s dismissal, I was surprised to find someone waiting for me.
“Prince Perwin?”
“Lady.”
Perwin waved at me with ease.
Come to think of it, wasn’t Perwin also a patient?
He had exchanged his health for victory at the Hunting Festival, so by now he should have been receiving intensive care from the palace physicians.
And yet, here he was, waiting for me all the way at the Empress’s quarters.
“Since when have you been here?”
“Since I heard you were entering the palace.”
“No, but… why…?”
He didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he’d been waiting. Instead, he answered lightly,
“Why don’t we have a quick talk?”
Well, since he asked, I followed him…
But the moment I stepped into the Crown Prince’s palace with him, regret settled in.
It had only been a few days since I’d flatly rejected his confession. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but being alone with him like this still made me uncomfortable.
There really isn’t a single male lead I feel at ease with.
Even with Kayen, things had grown awkward before I realized it. And now, even with the Administrator…
Is my social life supposed to be like this?
While I was sinking into such pointless thoughts, Perwin finally opened his mouth.
“It’s about what happened at the Hunting Festival.”
“!”
Ah… so it’s finally come to this.
Didn’t I say all sorts of ridiculous things back then, carried away by the atmosphere? What exactly did I blurt out?
I think I might have half-confessed about my possession, disguising it as a dream…
Ugh!
As I writhed inwardly at the memory of my black history, Perwin gave me a puzzled look.
“What’s wrong?”
“No, nothing.”
“……?”
When I quickly put on a serious face, he continued,
“I looked into the masked man who tried to kill me, but no information turned up.”
Oh. So that’s what he meant.
Relief washed over me.
As long as it wasn’t about that confession, I could handle anything.
“You mean the assailant…?”
“The man in the black mask who used magic. He wasn’t even on the official participant list.”
Well, of course.
Kayen hadn’t entered the Hunting Festival properly; the system had forcibly inserted him as a contestant.
“I know I have plenty of enemies after my life, but that one stood out. And then there was what happened at the Gareth estate…”
“You mean the research lab we saw back then?”
“Exactly. What if one of the researchers showed up at the Festival to take revenge? Not to mention the monster incident in the spectator stands.”
“Ah.”
So he’s connecting it like that.
Kayen was a powerful mage—so strong that even among the Tower’s magicians, few could match him.
And as Perwin said, the Gareth estate’s lab had been conducting grotesque human experiments using magic.
Adding the monster outbreak in the stands… it was getting harder to dismiss it all as coincidence.
Well, there is a connection.
After all, Kayen had once been a victim of that research institute.
Though, honestly, his involvement this time was pure chance.
Instead of bringing up Kayen, I asked something that had been nagging at me.
“What happened with the Gareth estate?”
“Father seems intent on burying it.”
“…What?”
Perwin sighed.
“He confiscated Baron Gareth’s property and sentenced him to flogging. But compared to the severity of the crimes, it’s far too lenient.”
Large-scale human trafficking, black magic.
For a case like that, not only the baron but even his relatives would usually be sentenced to death.
For the punishment to stop there could only mean one thing…
“Someone pulled strings behind the scenes.”
“Who?”
“Hard to say. But I have my suspicions.”
He shared what he had uncovered.
Even after thoroughly investigating Baron Gareth, nothing concrete surfaced about the research lab.
“It seems even Gareth himself knew little. He said the patron handled everything for him.”
“How can you trust that? He could just be pretending ignorance.”
“After losing a finger, he didn’t look like he had the composure to lie.”
“….”
At this point, it was hard to tell who the real villain was.
“So who is this patron?”
“No idea.”
“What do you mean, no idea?”
“The patron always used intermediaries. Apparently, they invested a huge sum in exchange for magic stones from the lab.”
He handed me a document.
“What’s this?”
“I narrowed down the potential suspects.”
Inside was a list: nobles close to Baron Gareth’s family, wealthy men who had once invested in magic-stone mines, and financiers interested in developing Gareth territory.
Basically, people with money who had reason to conspire with Gareth.
As I scanned the list carefully, my eyes froze on one name.
“Marquis Balton?”
Why was he here again?
Among those who had poured funds into the magic-stone mines was none other than Marquis Balton.
There were several others with shady or unclear backgrounds, but for some reason his name stood out the most—likely because of recent events.
“So you suspect him too, Lady? I thought it suspicious as well when I heard he had a hand in this year’s Hunting Festival.”
“…I see.”
Wait, I didn’t know that.
“If he’s merely flaunting his influence, then fine. But something about him reeks.”
At his words, I silently nodded.
After Rosellia left the palace.
The Empress stood wordlessly by the window.
“……”
Every decision and every choice she had made was all for the sake of protecting the Crown Prince.
She had wielded her blade to cut down political enemies, cleared the way to the throne, and believed this would be the greatest legacy she could leave as a mother.
So she had never once doubted her path.
But if my mistakes end up shackling my son…
Once, the sun had blazed as though it could set the whole world aflame. But under the natural flow of time, even it could only sink helplessly beyond the mountains, leaving nothing but a crimson shadow.
The Empress gazed sadly at the dying sun.
“How honored I am, Your Majesty, that you’ve granted me an audience after so long.”
Marquis Balton had arrived at the Empress’s palace, bowing gracefully.
“You’re here.”
The Empress fixed him with eyes as sharp as frost.
Unlike her coldness, Balton struggled to suppress the grin tugging at his lips.
So this once-iron-blooded Empress has been reduced to waiting for death, has she?
Seeing her so withered, like a dried branch, made his lips curl upward all the more.
Then the Empress spoke in a clipped tone.
“Marquis. Let’s dispense with the pleasantries.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Viscount Blaine has appeared in the capital.”
“What—what did you say?”
Balton’s smirking face hardened in an instant.
“Is that true? Why would Blaine suddenly show up? He should be long dead…”
“I should be asking you. Why is he alive and well?”
A few hours earlier, during her private meeting with Rosellia, the Empress had felt uneasy when old matters were brought up.
So she immediately ordered an investigation into the Blaine household.
Testimonies confirmed that a strange man had been seen coming and going from the Blaine estate—rumored to be the viscount himself.
“That’s impossible. He’s been gone for over ten years! Not once has he shown his face!”
In all that time, Viscount Blaine had never appeared.
Not when his house was ruined under the crushing weight of astronomical reparations.
Not when his wife collapsed from the shock.
Not even when his innocent daughter was harassed and threatened by creditors.
“That kind of shameless man would indeed have the gall to suddenly reappear.”
The Empress’s gaze turned icy.
“His Majesty’s bastard child is a stain upon the imperial family. That day’s events must never surface. You and I agreed on that, did we not?”
“…Yes. I pledged myself to Your Majesty—we are in the same boat.”
Balton nodded stiffly.
Back when Kayen was born, Marquis Balton had been one of the high officials of the court.
He had helped the Empress spirit the child away.
In truth, he had intended to hide the boy himself, keeping him as a pawn.
The boy was the Emperor’s reverse scale, the Empress’s weakness, and the Crown Prince’s future rival.
“Someone asked me recently about His Majesty’s bastard.”
“…!”
The Empress’s voice turned sharp.
“That child—are you certain he’s dead?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. He perished the day the orphanage burned down.”
He had not.
On the day Marquis Balton deliberately set the fire, the child had survived.
Before the flames spread, Balton had rescued him and smuggled him away.
He had faked the child’s death, hiding him somewhere neither the Emperor nor the Empress knew.
The boy was the perfect card—one he intended to keep secret until the right time.
Had no unforeseen variables appeared, that is.
That brat I saw then… he still nags at my mind.
If the child had lived, as Balton had ensured, then he would become the marquis’s most valuable piece.
Smacking his lips inwardly, Balton bowed with perfect politeness.
“Leave Viscount Blaine to me, Your Majesty. I’ll take care of him.”
