CHAPTER 37
– Longing in Silence
As I held the mineral tightly in my hand, I felt its warmth slowly seeping into my palm.
This was not just a stone.
This was Jay’s will.
His pain.
His proof.
“Are you… okay?”
Cecil, seated across from me in the carriage, spoke with uncharacteristic gentleness.
I opened my eyes.
“Not really.”
“You don’t look it.”
I smiled faintly.
“Still, I’m glad I came.”
I remembered Adix’s expression when I handed him Artessa’s heart.
He had looked as if his entire soul had been torn apart.
But I felt nothing.
I had already buried Artessa in my heart long ago.
And now, I was going to bring her son back to the surface.
“Is that it?” Cecil asked, nodding toward the stone.
I nodded.
“This is the orichalcum substitute.”
“…Looks expensive.”
“It is. Priceless, actually.”
And dangerous.
Anyone who knew what this was would be tempted to steal it, even at the cost of lives.
That was why Jay had hidden it. That was why Adix had lied.
And why I had to protect it—until I stood before the Emperor.
Cecil sighed and leaned back, stretching her legs.
“Well, since you’re alive, I guess I don’t need to write a will.”
“You wrote one?”
“Half. I was going to leave my sword to you.”
“…You think I can even lift that thing?”
“I figured you’d find someone worthy.”
She looked at me again, this time with genuine concern.
“What are you planning to do next?”
“I’m going back to the palace.”
“To give the Emperor the formula?”
“To give him the mineral—and take what I’m owed.”
“Your seat on the council?”
“No.”
My voice was quiet, firm.
“My son’s future.”
Cecil blinked.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
“You’re going to fight for it.”
“I already am.”
The road was long, and the sun was beginning to set outside the carriage window.
The sky burned orange, and a gust of wind carried the scent of the forest behind us.
A reminder of what we had survived.
What I would never forget.
That night, we arrived at the outskirts of the Imperial City.
The knights parted ways with us at the outer gates, returning to their own regiments with salutes and farewells.
Cecil and I stood before the palace gates, our cloaks fluttering in the late-summer wind.
“You sure about this?” she asked.
I looked up at the stars.
No moon tonight. Just endless dark sky.
“I have no choice.”
“…You’re strong, you know.”
I gave her a faint smile.
“I’m not strong. I’m just—”
“Stubborn?”
“…That too.”
Cecil chuckled.
“Good luck, Princess.”
Then she walked away, her silhouette vanishing into the quiet night.
I stood there for a moment, alone, listening to the wind.
Then I stepped through the gate.
The palace guards, recognizing me immediately, stepped aside.
No one dared to stop me anymore.
Not after Kosaren.
Not after I returned with the mineral that could change the world.
Inside the palace, I walked past golden hallways and marbled corridors, every footstep echoing louder than the last.
The Chancellor awaited me outside the throne room.
“…You’ve returned.”
“I have.”
“Are you ready to stand before His Majesty?”
“I brought what he wants.”
He studied me, then nodded slowly.
“…Good.”
He opened the massive doors himself, bowing slightly as he stepped aside.
I entered.
Inside, the Emperor of Estie sat on his high throne, his cold gaze fixed on me.
“Lirien.”
“Your Majesty.”
“You have returned from Rodburigo alive. With something to show, I presume?”
“Yes.”
I stepped forward, holding out the mineral.
Silence fell.
The ministers watched with bated breath as I placed it in the Emperor’s hand.
He studied it carefully.
“This is…”
“The alternative to orichalcum.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“And who created this?”
“…My son.”
The throne room erupted in whispers.
“Silence.”
The Emperor’s voice was enough to freeze the air.
He looked down at me, and for the first time, I saw hesitation in his eyes.
“You brought me a miracle.”
“I brought you the truth.”
“You seek a reward.”
“I seek justice.”
“For your child?”
“For everything taken from us.”
The Emperor studied me for a long moment, then nodded once.
“Very well. We will discuss your request at the next council.”
“…Thank you, Your Majesty.”
I bowed deeply.
And for the first time in years, I felt I had won something.
Not a war.
But a step.
Toward reclaiming my son’s place in the world.
