Episode 115
But then, she suddenly looked at Callisteon and gave a happy smile.
—Carl, Brother has given his permission. If Karl send a letter of proposal to the Imperial Capital, I can take Prilis and go to Babenberg. We can hold the wedding ceremony in Babenberg, and he said to live quietly until the Imperial nobles forget about me. He said it wouldn’t take long.
Callisteon’s lips parted in a rare, bright smile.
“…Really? You promise?”
Louise laughed cheerfully.
—My brother is a man of his word. So am I.
Callisteon took a deep breath, his chest swelling.
His tongue felt dry with the desire to bring her to him immediately.
“I’ll send the letter of proposal and come for you at once. You can wait here until the marriage permission comes through, right?”
But this time, unfortunately, Louise shook her head.
—That might be difficult, Carl. Suddenly getting married while supposedly convalescing would look strange to others. I must stop by the Imperial Capital briefly.
She continued with an apologetic expression.
—Since Jenais sister has also left the palace, I’m now the only Princess in the Imperial Capital. I need to show the nobles I’m healthy and, even for a short while, do something helpful for my brother. So, Cal, you’ll have to come to the Imperial Capital to fetch me.
“…And Prilis?”
When Callisteon asked, Louise sighed.
—I am worried about Frilis… but Brother said he’d assign plenty of guards. Then, the nanny and Pheobe will take Frilis to Babenberg separately.
Callisteon shook his head.
“I don’t wish to be indebted to the Imperial family for retrieving my own family. I will dispatch part of the Knight-Order to Edessa. I want to see you soon.”
Louise also smiled shyly, as if in agreement.
The two exchanged small talk for the duration the communication channel allowed.
Shortly after, the magic of the channel depleted, and Louise’s face, which had been floating on the wall, disappeared. Callisteon immediately summoned his steward.
“I will write the letter of proposal to be sent to Brentani. Two months should be enough to prepare for the wedding ceremony, correct?”
“Pardon? In just two months?”
The steward blurted out the question but then noticed his master’s icy blue eyes were unusually filled with anticipation and resolve.
He ultimately swallowed dryly and quickly corrected himself.
“We will do our utmost, Your Excellency.”
Meanwhile, at the Sebitol Convent in the northernmost part of the Empire.
Cyril sat listlessly in a chilly room, dressed in a single layer of plain cotton clothes.
Although she had been exiled to the convent, she was neither a nun nor a maid, so no proper duties were assigned to her.
She would have endured even the role of a maid if it meant she could attend to her parents, but the new Emperor had not granted that.
She wasn’t even allowed to send letters to her parents, so news was hard to come by.
Over two months had passed since she began convent life, yet no one had come to visit her.
The Empire’s noblemen, who once lavished all sorts of treasures just to kiss the back of the Princess’s hand, now seemed to have completely forgotten her, not even showing their faces.
So, Chirilla spent her days merely battling boredom.
While longing for her glamorous life in the Imperial Capital.
Then, a knock was heard.
—Knock knock.
It wasn’t mealtime yet?
Usually, no one visited her room except the maid who brought her meals.
As Cyril approached the door, puzzled, she heard the familiar voice of a maid.
“A guest has arrived.”
A guest?
Cyril’s brilliant golden eyes flashed wide.
Perhaps one of her friends, having been cautious of the Emperor’s watchful eye, had finally come to visit now.
She hurriedly opened the door. The maid, avoiding her gaze, spoke with difficulty.
“The guest… is waiting in the reception room.”
“Did they say who they are or where they’re from?”
“They only said… to tell you they are an old friend…”
An old friend?
Cyril didn’t like the maid’s dull response, but she quickly stood before a mirror to check her appearance.
A lingering, unextinguished hope in her heart fanned its own embers.
‘The Grand Duke must have received my letters by now.’
While it might be difficult for him to come personally, perhaps he had sent someone.
That would be all too easy for him.
‘Callisteon is a kind person who showed interest even in that wretched Louise…’
Rumors of his intention to propose to Louise were always rampant, but it had never actually happened.
So, Callisteon might show her some small mercy too.
The tiny seed of expectation swelled in size in an instant.
As she walked down the long corridor, her heart began to race uncontrollably.
‘I resented him for not answering before, but perhaps today of all days…’
Forgetting her pride, Cyril almost ran towards the reception room.
“Chirilla.”
That Cyril didn’t recognize the visitor’s face immediately wasn’t solely due to her delusional hopes.
The shabby man before her spoke bitterly.
“Has it been only a few months that you fail to recognize your own uncle?”
“…Uncle?”
Cyril was both surprised and frightened.
Her uncle, the former Duke Damiani, had committed the grave crime of abducting the 3rd Princess, losing his family, wealth, and being exiled beyond the capital.
Unlike herself, who was in the convent merely for being the child of the deposed Emperor and Empress, he was a felon and a thorn in the side of the current Emperor, the 3rd Princess’s own brother.
Cyril hesitated, stepping back as she moved to sit opposite him.
“Ch-Chirilla!”
The former Duke Damiani, Gideon, grabbed Cyril’s wrist firmly.
“Aren’t you even curious about your mother’s news? Do you think that delicate, pitiful woman can endure convent life?”
Cyril hesitated, glancing around furtively.
Fortunately, the convent staff didn’t seem to recognize him, and no watchers were in sight.
Finally, Cyril asked in a trembling voice,
“Do you… know news of Mother?”
Gideon nodded gloomily.
“The Caesarea Convent where your mother is held is far more heavily guarded than this place. I couldn’t go myself, but I paid someone to barely ascertain her situation.”
“Is she well? And Father? Is he unwell?”
Gideon, once the highest noble of the Empire who looked impossibly young for his age, seemed to have aged a decade in the past few months.
Tears welled in his wrinkled eyes and finally streamed down.
“The former His Majesty has apparently fallen mute and keeps his mouth shut. Because of that, your mother seems to have lost her mind even more. They say she wanders by the window, not brushing her hair or wearing shoes. The Emperor is being too harsh.”
Cyril gasped in surprise.
Her mother was the type to put on her Empress crown first thing in the morning, even if the world was collapsing.
She had never imagined her mother in such an unkempt state.
“C-can we help her? You, Uncle, at least aren’t imprisoned. Is there really nothing left of Damiani?”
“Nothing. Damiani has lost everything. Your aunt even cursed our family and left, taking the children back to her parents’ house.”
Gideon shook his head and continued.
“It’s the same for your parents, but Chirilla, you… you are different.”
“Me?”
Gideon looked at Cyrilah’s as if she were being absurd.
“Chirilla, you must keep your wits about you, especially now. You have private assets, not Imperial property.”
Private assets?
Only then could Cyril understand Gideon’s meaning.
One villa belonging to the Areta family, inherited from her grandmother, the former Duchess Damiani, remained as Cyril’s portion.
Everything she owned as a royal and all of Damiani’s former wealth had vanished, but the Areta family villa was different.
It was possible because her grandmother, the former Duchess Damiani, like the deposed Empress, had maintained her maiden name after marriage.
Moreover, that villa was located in the prime area of Timore and would be quite valuable.
‘Of course, in the old days, I wouldn’t have batted an eye even if such a villa collapsed entirely…’
Finally collecting herself, Cyril asked,
“Do I still have the authority to dispose of the villa in Timore?”
“Of course you do!”
As Gideon raised his voice in excitement, Cyril quickly raised her index finger to her lips to quiet him.
Then she whispered,
“But I cannot leave the convent.”
