Chapter 140
“That is correct. What I can confirm is only whether this crest is real or not.”
This magic was only meant to detect the faint traces of ancient magic left within the unique crest of the royal family.
So, just as Clois had said, it could only prove that the child was of royal blood. It could not confirm that she was his daughter.
“Yet Count Aradman is not claiming that this child is merely royal. He claims she is my daughter. Does he have proof for that?”
Not all children of those who bore the crest were born with it.
Clois himself was proof of that—he had been born to the previous Emperor, who did not have the crest.
So this child could very well be the daughter of another royal, not Clois.
“Do you think I am unaware of that possibility, Your Majesty?”
Count Aradman spoke immediately, as if he had been waiting for this moment.
“There is someone who can prove better than anyone else that this child is Her Highness the Princess. Please allow her to enter. You will not have to wait long. She was ‘brought’ here together with me just moments ago.”
He emphasized the word brought and glared at Sir Rommel, as if to say he would remember this unfair treatment.
Once again, the Royal Knights went outside. The hall grew noisy.
Those witnessing this unprecedented situation began whispering and sharing what they knew, speculating on how this would end.
“So… she really is royal, right?”
Before anyone noticed, people had stopped calling Eve that child and started calling her that lady.
Even though they did not know whose child she was, Seraphina had already proven she was of royal blood, so no one dared speak of her disrespectfully.
“And His Majesty was not on bad terms with every royal.”
During the succession war, all royals had died—but Clois had not killed all of them himself.
Some of them had been brothers he was very close to.
Those people had died by the former Emperor’s hand.
Since everyone had fled desperately, it would not be strange if someone had hidden a child during that chaos.
Either way, a surviving royal was still a royal.
She would surely live in wealth and honor under Clois’s protection.
And since so many noble titles had returned to the crown after the royal family was wiped out, she might inherit one of the highest among them.
But if she truly was Princess Evebien…
People’s thoughts began racing.
Amid the noise, Evie was staring at Eve.
More precisely, she was staring at the crest on the back of Eve’s hand.
I have one too.
It was not as clear as that one, but she was sure something like it had once appeared on her own hand.
She had thought it was a sign of a plague and had desperately hidden it with her dirty sleeve.
And now she was being told it was proof of royal blood.
Evie slowly raised her hand.
If it appeared now, she could show it to Dean Seraphina immediately.
But there was nothing on the back of her hand.
Evie rubbed it roughly.
If it had not been a plague mark but a crest… then maybe she too—
She startled herself with that thought.
To even imagine that she might be royal was unbearably irreverent.
Still… you never know.
If it appeared now—
If she could say she had something similar and ask the Dean to confirm it—
She rubbed her hand again, desperately.
But nothing appeared.
As if to say, not yet.
At that moment, Evie’s eyes met Eve’s.
The two children looked at each other in silence.
But only briefly.
The doors opened, and Sir Rommel and Sir Hilde dragged a woman inside.
Her hair was completely white.
Yet despite the white hair, her face was not deeply wrinkled. She did not look that old, creating an eerie impression.
The moment she saw Clois, she collapsed face-down on the floor.
“Your Majesty!”
It was a desperate, almost wailing cry.
Clois, who had been staring in confusion, froze in shock.
“…Sabina?”
Sabina nodded violently and crawled toward him.
“Ah, Your Majesty! I, Sabina, have waited for this day! I waited for the day you defeated all those vile people and stood firmly as the rightful ruler of this Empire! Only then—only then could I meet you again!”
She spoke like a madwoman.
Her words were mixed with sobs, but her grief and sincerity were unmistakable.
“Only then could I bring Princess Evebien to you, as Lady Lilian entrusted her to me!”
At the name Lilian, Clois’s expression hardened in terror.
Sabina crawled to his feet and pressed her forehead to the floor.
“Please punish me, Your Majesty. I failed to save Lady Lilian. I dared to live on despite that sin. But I could not die. I had to protect the little Princess she entrusted to me. Yes, I had to protect her. That small, young, beloved child… even while being chased by wolves… I protected her.”
Clois grabbed Sabina and forced her to stand.
Then he examined her face.
She looked like someone who had aged decades alone—but she was undeniably Sabina.
Lilian’s closest friend and maid.
Someone who had also been close to Clois.
When Lilian became pregnant, Sabina had cried tears of joy and begged to be chosen as the child’s nurse.
Clois still remembered how she had sworn she would protect Lilian no matter what when he left her behind.
“Then you protected that child…”
“Yes. I protected her. This is Lady Eve.”
When Sabina called her name, Eve stepped closer, as if to confirm it herself.
Sabina bent down and wrapped her arms around Eve’s shoulders, crying endlessly.
“I called her Eve because I feared when the mobs might recognize her true name. I fled with her in my arms, again and again. I was chased… but I protected her. She is alive, right here.”
Sabina’s eyes shone fiercely.
She was not someone who would lie.
No one had been more devoted to Lilian than her.
Some people in the hall began to recognize her.
Those who had once gone to Solem with Clois remembered seeing her by Lilian’s side.
“But… but that’s impossible. Evebien is dead. I buried the child beside Lilian—mutilated so badly I could barely gather the bones…”
Sabina shook her head violently.
“That child was not the Princess. It was a baby born from a pregnant woman inside the castle. The poor child lived less than three hours. I brought that child. That child was placed in Lady Lilian’s arms. And the real Princess—”
She pushed Eve forward toward Clois.
“She is right here.”
Eve stepped closer and opened her arms, asking to be held.
But Clois could not reach for her.
This child… is my daughter?
Then what was Evie?
Clois froze at the thought.
At some point, he had begun to think of Evie as his daughter without even realizing it.
“And here… is Lady Lilian’s letter.”
Sabina pulled out an old piece of paper.
It was torn and worn, with water stains and blood marks.
It showed how desperately she had protected it.
Clois accepted it with trembling hands.
One wrong move, and it might fall apart.
On it was handwriting he missed dearly.
[To Is.]
Just reading the first line stole his breath.
Is.
The name Lilian had always called him.
A name only she was allowed to use.
Now, no one else in the world could call him that.
“Lilian…”
Clois felt dizzy.
The woman he loved had left nothing behind.
Everything had been burned.
Even her handwriting—he had none.
And yet now, he held her final trace.
His eyes moved to the next words.
[I’m sorry.]
He remembered her last expression.
Her sad face when he left.
What had she said then?
“I’m sorry.”
The one who left was him—yet she had apologized.
“Lilian…”
Clois could not breathe.
The wife he failed to protect.
Her trace… her child…
“Your Majesty!”
Rommel’s voice echoed from far away.
* * *
At the same time.
In a shabby house at the edge of the capital, Noma stood by the window, holding a wine glass and looking toward the Imperial Palace.
“What a shame I can’t see it in person.”
She swirled the glass once and drank it all at once.
It was cheap wine—but it tasted better than anything she had ever drunk.
“Clois.”
She laughed softly.
“I’ll destroy you properly.”
Lilian’s letter was real.
And that was exactly why it would tear his mind apart.
That’s what I want.
Noma stood before a mirror.
She had disguised herself completely—clothes, tools, even drugs that thinned her voice and erased masculine traits.
While erasing herself, she still had something to do.
“I will destroy you.”
Noma—once called Siren—murmured confidently.
Her plan had only just begun.
And when it reached its peak,
There would be nothing left that could save Clois.
