Episode 124
The probability of success was low, but spatial translocation magic was the only method that could extend my pitifully short lifeline.
The sole secret strategy to let the baby in my womb live.
To evade that fleeting moment when the thread of fate is severed, and go to another world.
Moghold said there could be no act more reckless than this, as I had no idea where that world was or how long I would need to stay.
“But if I can just manage to return, doesn’t that mean I can sidestep my fate and keep living?”
“You will remember nothing. Not only will you forget the child’s father, there is no guarantee you will continue to love the baby in your womb. Even if the time in the parallel world feels like an eternity, here, it will be but an instant!”
Though Moghold cried out, I stubbornly persisted.
“If you won’t help me, I’ll go to Ren and tell him everything. Ren would cling to even that slim thread of hope!”
I don’t know why that outburst, spoken in frustration, changed Moghold’s mind.
“…I will help you. But please, do not inform that Ren fellow.”
Not just Ren, but no one could be told.
The pregnancy, the gamble with a lost magic, the fact that failure in this gamble meant death—it all had to be a secret.
On the eve of the final day, Moghold spoke.
“To increase the probability of success, we need Len. Or more precisely, his method of transportation.”
“Ren’s method of transportation?”
He nodded.
“You already know Ren creates flames with magic stone dust to travel long distances. While it may seem similar to a Gate at first glance, it’s actually a completely different concept.”
Moghold explained that a Gate is a method of passing extremely quickly through a virtual path pre-established by wizards.
In contrast, Ren’s flame travel uses earth as a medium, conceptually leaping over the space before the destination itself.
“Your Highness’s soul must be as far away from this world as possible to increase the likelihood of transferring to another world. Ren’s method is perfectly suited for this.”
And so, for my return to the Imperial Capital, I ended up using Ren’s flames.
‘The me who returns won’t be myself…?’
The price of the magic was my memories; even if I was lucky enough to return, I would remember nothing.
‘In that case, I need to tell someone about my pregnancy in advance…’
I couldn’t tell Karl.
There was no guarantee I would return.
If I were to die while carrying his child, Callisteon would be in too much pain.
I couldn’t tell Phoebe either.
Phoebe would blame herself for my reckless actions, and even for my death.
The only one left was Ernst.
That kid would pretend the child was his own to save me from my predicament if he had to.
And yet, behind the scenes, he would strive to find the child’s real father.
‘Of course, if things go wrong for me, he would keep this matter a complete secret.’
Ernst was that trustworthy a friend to me.
So, before leaving for the Imperial Capital, I wrote him a letter.
I’m sorry, Erni.
But you’re the only one who can help me.
I’m pregnant with a child.
Though I couldn’t even write my name, just in case, Ernst was the only one who would recognize my handwriting from the first character alone.
And so, I traveled along with Ren’s flames, and it seems Moghold succeeded in the spatial translocation magic.
Here in Brentani, I truly forgot everything, living as someone else.
It was a lonely and arduous life.
Not knowing that the sense of solitude was because of the family, friends, and lover I left behind, I struggled there too.
The story that kept swirling in my head just before I died young from an unfortunate illness.
The fact that I, who had always kept my distance from writing, managed to write such a story in an instant was because it wasn’t a creation.
‘What about Helena? What did I write about Helena?’
Others might be different, but Helena wasn’t someone I knew from the beginning.
I finally realized.
‘Perhaps it’s the same as the revelation of death.’
There is someone who completed the spatial translocation magic, said to have such a low success rate, brought me back, and even changed the Empire’s fate.
A short while ago, in the Magic Tower’s treatment room.
Ren couldn’t understand why his master’s condition only worsened despite his desperate efforts.
‘Wake up, old man. Please…’
If only he would wake up, he’d snap me out of it, maybe even slap me on the back.
He’d tell me that wishing for Louise’s happiness and respecting her choice, whoever the father is, is true love.
But with Moghold sleeping like this now, there was no one left to say those words to Ren.
Everyone was terrified of Ren.
They saw him as a time bomb no one could control.
Not that they were wrong.
A part of Ren’s heart still held the anger, the desire to go to Babenberg and burn down the Grand Duke’s castle.
If she lost her place and needed protection again, Louise would return.
He had conditioned her enough to know that his side was the safest place on the continent.
The Imperial Family’s most cowardly youngest princess.
He had so desperately wished that her only hiding place would ultimately be in his embrace.
Ren felt like vomiting and covered his mouth with his palm.
Having not eaten properly for weeks, solely caring for his master, his body was finally starting to fail.
‘I’d rather just disappear from this world…’
If he could use his remaining magic power to save his master’s life, Ren thought even that would be preferable.
He didn’t trust himself to live on powerlessly and wish for Louise’s happiness.
He wanted to have her, to hold her.
He could have done better.
Recently, Ren, along with an apothecary, had investigated the magical potions he might have consumed and narrowed down a few that matched the symptoms.
“Um… Lord Tower Master. If someone had drunk this, you see…” The apothecary pointed to a insomnia treatment called ‘Illusia’.
“This is a relatively new drug, and it’s detectable in the user’s body. Perhaps you could seek the patient’s consent and use a reagent test?”
Why did he feel such intense fear upon hearing that?
Without realizing it, Ren spoke defensively.
“I heard the medication was taken quite some time ago. It would be difficult to assume it’s still accumulated in the body.”
The apothecary, never dreaming the patient Ren spoke of was Ren himself, answered innocently.
“But if the side effects are still present, the drug components might still be in the body. Given the severity of the side effects you mentioned, it suggests either long-term use or excessive dosage.”
‘Illusia’ was odorless, but Ren couldn’t bring himself to taste it.
He was afraid it might taste familiar, and anxious about potential side effects if he ingested it.
Meanwhile, the nightmares repeated.
He once found it hard to understand Louise, who believed in those absurd dreams, but it was different when it happened to him.
The same dream, recurring incessantly, felt unavoidably significant.
Ren was unbearably anxious that perhaps nothing had happened that night.
He thought of Frilly’s face.
She didn’t resemble him, but she didn’t resemble other men either.
His baby, loved since she was in the womb, resembled only Louise.
Ren was glad about that, without a single grain of resentment.
The wedding declared by the Emperor was only ten days away.
If he wanted to confront the Grand Duke and demand answers, following the apothecary’s suggestion to use the reagent test was the proper course of action.
‘Impossible. There’s no madman on this continent who would dare use magic potions on me.’
Ren’s thoughts circled the same point.
Then, the Tower Master’s necklace flashed with a terrifying light.
Without a second thought, Ren immediately scattered magic stone dust.
Because the signal linked to the necklace came from only one place.
From his and Louise’s, their beloved child.
