Chapter 1
The Son
“This child is undoubtedly yours. Do you understand, Robert? This is proof that the blood of the royal family flows within him.”
Queen Cecilia—his grandmother—said this as she held out a single photograph.
It had been taken with a magic camera. When mana was poured into the palm-sized rectangular paper, the captured subject rose into a three-dimensional projection.
Robert looked at the boy displayed in the image and brushed back his winter-sky-blue hair with one hand.
This was… quite a problem.
“…It might be possible, Grandmother.”
“It is not might. It is. Those crimson eyes, that translucent blue hair. They are the mark of our Grizaina royal house—proof of the fire spirit inherited by the Grizaina dynasty, where the sky and sun meet!”
“But I’m not even married yet.”
He attempted a small resistance, insisting there was a chance the boy wasn’t of his blood.
He had enjoyed plenty of nightlife that made the Queen worry, but when it came to relationships with women, he had always kept himself—at least physically—clean.
If there was any possibility at all… it could only be that night six years ago.
But the woman had disappeared.
She vanished the next morning as if she’d turned into smoke. It was Robert’s only disgrace—a stain he could not erase.
And, of course, his formidable grandmother knew everything.
“Are you still making excuses…?”
The Queen let out a sigh unbefitting a ruler from atop her throne.
She had guided the kingdom with unmatched political skill, but after learning of her great-grandchild, she seemed to have reverted into a simple old woman.
Seeing his grandmother like that was a shock for Robert, who adored and respected her deeply.
Was familial affection really powerful enough to transform a person so easily?
“Listen carefully, Robert. I don’t care what you do when you play with your friends. As long as you cause no trouble for the royal family, do as you like. You are, after all, a candidate for the next king. But when it comes to your son, that is an entirely different matter!”
She declared this with firm authority, striking the floor beside the throne with her scepter—thud!
The gems adorning her small crown gleamed sharply.
The intensity made Robert instinctively recoil.
“That child is undeniably yours. Find him.”
“Find him…? But—wait, no, this is—”
Robert grimaced, displeased.
He would be turning twenty-six this year, and he had finally secured a potential fiancée.
For his grandmother to interfere now would be troublesome.
He had only just sent a letter of agreement to the duke’s family, through the matchmaker.
He couldn’t simply say: Actually, never mind.
And he could never say: A son suddenly appeared.
“Do you have any idea who the mother might be?”
“…That is…”
“The child in that picture is in the Empire. He turned six this year. Did my grandson hide my great-grandchild from me for six whole years?”
Her hair was a deepened blue-gray, the color visible only when the sun sank beneath the night sky. Her eyes, nearly gray, gleamed quietly as she descended from the throne and approached her grandson.
She whispered softly into his ear:
“I know what you did six years ago.”
“Ugh… W-what exactly do you know…?”
“Your bride-hunting in that hotel. The masquerade ball you used as cover.”
“Where did you hear about that…?”
Robert sighed. Now it was his turn to exhale heavily.
Apparently, all his youthful mischiefs were an open book to this Queen.
He finally noticed the mischievous, scheming smile spreading across her face.
She wanted to meet the child.
She spoke publicly about political issues and royal responsibilities, but deep down, this was simply the affection of a grandmother eager to meet a great-grandchild she’d never seen.
If it were a son or daughter, she would act as a mother.
If it were a grandchild, she would act as a Queen.
But since the child lived in the Empire—far removed from the throne and succession—the bloodline and political implications were weak.
Thus, Robert realized: this was purely a grandmother longing to meet her great-grandchild.
“I know very well how troublesome you’ve been. But even so, I’ve hardly heard any stories about you making women cry. You’ve kept that lower half of yours remarkably disciplined. So isn’t this truly a rare, extraordinary case?”
“I have always been careful about that, precisely because of my status. Something like this shouldn’t have happened.”
“And yet, here is the evidence.”
“Grandmother… To be honest, I do have an idea. But I suspect it may be fraud.”
“Fraud?”
The Queen’s expression hardened back into the face of a ruler.
Robert recalled the events of six years ago.
The two of them were whispering amid a hall filled with courtiers, all of whom were silently panicking, wondering what grave matter the prince and queen were discussing.
After all, Robert had been a notorious problem child. At sixteen—just after graduating the academy—he was already roaming the night streets with bad company, causing endless trouble.
Many of the people standing in this hall had cleaned up after him multiple times.
Everyone waited anxiously for their conversation to end, wondering who might be held responsible this time.
“Yes. Fraud. I remember that night clearly. The hotel hosting the masquerade was the Gazaric.”
“Oh, the one owned by the Emperor’s younger brother? The Gazaric Group?”
“Yes. Which is why I trusted its security. The invited guests were all listed beforehand, and each passed through the hotel’s security checks at least three times before entering the venue.”
“That is an interesting story. Continue.”
“I invited a woman to dance. She was beautiful.”
Robert exhaled softly as he remembered.
That night.
That moment.
That woman.
She called herself Sena.
From her manners and conduct, it was immediately obvious she was a highly educated woman of the upper class.
She spoke both the Kingdom’s and Empire’s official languages, and even the ancient imperial tongue with perfect fluency.
Only nobles of the Empire or scholars specializing in linguistics would ever speak that language so naturally—it was practically proof of her status.
Her graceful movements held a quiet elegance that captivated him at once.
They spoke of their alma maters—the higher academies, the universities.
Every detail pointed to her being an impeccable lady of noble birth.
Perhaps it was because she was so perfect… that things turned out as they did.
