Chapter 174
The biggest problem in this incident was, of course, Eve.
A royal child—who, for a brief time, had even been treated as a temporary princess.
And now, to find out that she was the late emperor’s illegitimate daughter.
The ministers spent the entire day, from morning until night, holding endless meetings about what should be done with Eve.
Had she stayed quietly in the countryside, perhaps no one would have cared. But the rumors accused her of conspiring with rebels and nobles to shake the imperial family once more.
Even though she was of royal blood, she could still face the death penalty.
When she heard those words, Eve just crouched down and cried silently.
She didn’t understand everything the ministers said, but one thing was clear to her—
Clois was not her real father.
And her true father was the one who had killed Ibi’s mother.
That realization alone terrified Eve so deeply that she couldn’t speak a word for days.
The ministers urged Clois to decide on her punishment quickly.
She was the daughter of his brother and his mortal enemy.
She had even dared to covet the position of princess.
From that perspective alone, she was nothing less than a great sinner.
“Let the child stay in the detached palace for now.”
Clois decided to keep Eve within the imperial palace.
Though guards were assigned to watch over her, she wasn’t confined in a small locked room.
For weeks, Clois struggled with the decision of what to do with her.
And finally, a few days ago, he made up his mind.
“Father.”
When Ibi approached, Clois smiled faintly and brushed back a few strands of her slightly messy hair.
“You’re here.”
“Yes. Is Eve leaving now?”
“…Yes. I think now is a good time to say goodbye.”
At his words, Ibi nodded and went over to Eve.
Eve wasn’t alone.
A middle-aged couple stood a little distance away, watching the two girls with worried eyes.
They were Baron and Baroness Solun—distant relatives of the imperial family who governed a small territory in a remote corner of the empire.
Eve had been acknowledged as a child used by others in this political scheme.
But because she was still the late emperor’s biological daughter, punishment could not be avoided.
As discussions about the death penalty or life imprisonment filled the meeting halls, Clois wrestled with what kind of judgment to deliver.
Meanwhile, Eve waited alone in the detached palace for her fate.
Even if she was the daughter of the fallen emperor, she was still royal blood.
The maids took care of her, but she still needed a proper attendant.
Of course, no one volunteered for that position.
Who would willingly serve a child who might soon be executed?
At that moment, the one who stepped forward was the Baroness Solun.
While staying in the capital with her husband, she had seen the frightened little girl and felt pity for her, so she offered to act as her attendant for a time.
She had no strong ties to the capital or influential relatives, so she didn’t fear any political repercussions.
Soon, Eve grew deeply attached to the Baroness.
When Clois saw this, he called for the Baroness and carefully brought up a suggestion.
“No matter that she’s the late emperor’s daughter, I cannot bring myself to kill a child barely seven years old. But neither can I let her remain in the palace—or even near the capital. So I intend to issue an exile decree.”
“…I understand, Your Majesty.”
“So I wanted to ask—would it be possible for her to stay in your territory? I’ll provide any support you need.”
At those words, Baroness Solun immediately rose and bowed deeply.
“Please, Your Majesty—I beg of you!”
Her voice trembled as she continued,
“Everyone points at her for being the late emperor’s daughter… but to me, she’s just a poor, ordinary child who was hurt by the greed of adults. And… if Your Majesty permits…”
The Baroness spoke her wish cautiously.
“I would like to take Lady Eve as my adopted daughter.”
“Your adopted daughter?”
“Yes. My husband and I came to the capital because we have no children, and we hoped to find a suitable heir among our relatives. But none were fit, and we were preparing to return home empty-handed.”
Clois remembered.
They had once requested permission to adopt a distant relative’s child as their heir.
But now they wished to adopt Eve.
“She’s a child the people cry out to punish—yet you still wish to take her in as your daughter?”
“Yes, please, grant me this request.”
She was of royal blood.
Finding someone willing to accept her had been difficult, so this was a blessing for both Clois and Eve.
Clois didn’t even need to ask what Eve wanted—he already knew the answer.
When he visited her with the Baroness, Eve had clung to her, crying, afraid she was going to be abandoned again.
Once the adoption and exile were approved, things moved quickly.
And finally, today was the day Eve would leave for Baron Solun’s territory.
“Eve.”
When Ibi approached, Eve glanced around nervously, then greeted her exactly as the Baroness had taught her.
“L-Lady Ibi Vien, I greet you.”
Using the name she was no longer entitled to, Eve bowed her head.
Ibi glanced around, then quietly took Eve’s hand and led her behind the carriage, whispering,
“It’s okay here. We said we wouldn’t greet each other like that when it’s just us, remember?”
At that, Eve’s expression brightened.
“Mm… but I promised Mom I’d greet properly…”
Eve already called the Baroness “Mom” without hesitation.
Ibi smiled.
“Then let’s keep it a secret from her. I’ll keep it secret from my dad too.”
“Okay, let’s do that!”
The two girls nodded at each other.
While Eve had been staying in the detached palace, Ibi and Hilde had visited her secretly almost every evening, avoiding the eyes of others.
They brought her books, crayons, dolls—things to play with together before leaving.
The two children who had once escaped death together had become the closest of friends.
Eve glanced around, then removed her hat.
Her hair was now short but neatly trimmed.
“Pretty, right? Mom and Dad trimmed it again last night.”
“Yeah! It looks great! I’ll cut mine like that when summer comes!”
When Ibi said that sincerely, Eve grinned proudly.
Then her smile faded, and she asked hesitantly,
“Hey, Ibi… what happened to Izriella and the Count?”
It was something she couldn’t bring herself to ask the Baron and Baroness.
She was afraid they might change their minds and decide not to take her after all.
Nor could she ask the maids.
But she wanted to know—she needed to.
“The Aradman Count family… their title was revoked. Their mansion in the capital was seized too. But the distant estate they owned was left intact, so they’ll all live there now.”
“I see…”
Eve’s face brightened slightly at hearing they hadn’t been executed.
“Then… what about Sabina?”
“Sabina…”
Ibi’s expression dimmed.
The nanny who had once fled with her—only to drop her over a cliff when chased by wolves.
Haunted by guilt ever since, unable to find the child’s body, she had lost her sanity.
After Eve returned safely, Sabina miraculously regained her senses.
Then she confessed everything she remembered about Siren to Duke Kaelen, kneeling before Ibi and begging forgiveness.
“Lady Lillian held the princess in her arms at the end and whispered… that she was sorry, but she would always stay with her…”
Hearing her mother’s final message, Ibi had cried once again.
After confessing everything, Sabina never woke again the next morning.
The imperial physician said it was unlikely she would ever regain consciousness, and that they should prepare for the end.
Everyone who saw her lying there pitied her, but her face looked peaceful—
as if she had finally finished her long and painful duty.
“It’s time to leave.”
While the two girls talked, Hilde came over to announce the departure.
They nodded and whispered to each other,
“You’ll really come to Solun next year, right? Promise me.”
“I promise. I’ll come visit for sure!”
Eve had said she would never be able to leave the Solun territory again—so the only way was for Ibi to go to her.
Then Eve took a small envelope from her bag and handed it to Ibi.
“Read this after I leave, okay?”
Saying that, she ran back toward the front of the carriage.
The baron and baroness helped her climb aboard, and with the coachman’s call, the carriage began to move.
‘She said to open it after she leaves.’
Watching the carriage depart, Ibi carefully opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter written in crooked, childish handwriting.
To Ibi.
Hi. Be well.
I’m going to Solun now.
Mom and Dad said I should use a new name.
My new name is Bella.
So next time we meet, call me Bella, okay?
Bye!
The spelling was terrible, but every stroke was written with care.
Below the message was a little drawing—Eve with her short hair, holding hands with Ibi as they walked together.
Compared to Ibi’s drawings, it was surprisingly good.
Two girls who looked alike and even had similar names—
but were, in truth, completely different people—
parted ways, promising to meet again next year.
And a week later—
“Oh my goodness, what’s going on, sirs?!”
In a small rural inn in the empire, the innkeeper and his wife were in a panic.
Early that morning, a group of knights had stormed in, dragging them outside without explanation.
