Chapter 55
“We’re almost there—wait, are you alright?”
As they neared the garden where the Emperor was waiting, Maia’s small face had gone deathly pale, like that of a corpse.
The head attendant approached in belated alarm.
“……!”
When Maia reflexively stepped back, the head attendant grew even more flustered.
“Your complexion is not good at all. Let me first inform His Majesty and then—”
“Marquis Renessa!”
A clear voice rang out across the lush green garden.
The head attendant looked up and muttered in a panic-stricken voice.
“P-Princess?!”
Princess. Her Highness.
The moment Maia heard that title, her body froze. She couldn’t even turn her head to look behind her.
‘Shouldn’t we report this to the Empress? That woman, the merchant’s daughter, needs to be dealt with properly this time.’
‘You think the Empress doesn’t already know? She must know everything. The reason she hasn’t acted is because those people aren’t even worth her attention.’
‘And even if that child is His Majesty’s illegitimate daughter, what affection could she ever receive with Her Highness the Princess around? His Majesty dotes on the Princess.’
‘Exactly. Whether in lineage, virtue, or talent—who could ever compare to Her Highness? Let alone a mere bastard child…’
The voices she’d heard earlier echoed endlessly in her mind.
“Lady Maia!”
The head attendant shouted in alarm—but Maia’s vision was already going black.
Thud.
Her consciousness flickered as if buried in the grass. She dimly saw the pale old man reaching out desperately toward her before she closed her eyes.
It was a long, dizzying faint.
When Maia next opened her eyes, the grand ceiling of the Imperial Palace—where she had been forced to stay for the past three days—was nowhere in sight.
“…Home?”
She was in her own room, inside the old, familiar house. Warm and soft.
She blinked, then slowly sat up.
Was this a dream?
She gazed out the window, caught between night and dawn.
She opened the window, still sealed shut.
Cool air gently dried her slightly damp skin.
She couldn’t tell if it was early morning or evening.
If it was a dream—or reality.
“…Mother.”
The face that suddenly came to mind was her mother’s.
She missed her.
But as soon as she thought of her mother, the memory of what happened just before she lost consciousness came flooding back, banishing all drowsiness.
And Maia’s face, which had been calm just moments ago, went ghostly pale.
The Princess.
That final voice had unmistakably addressed Her Highness the Princess.
And… and His Majesty had requested to meet her alone.
But… why was she here, back at home?
Maia quickly climbed off the bed. In her haste, her legs got tangled in the blankets and she tumbled to the floor—but she ignored the pain and ran to the door.
Click—
The sound of the door opening rang out clearly. But there were no footsteps approaching.
She glanced down the empty hallway. Not a single maid in sight.
Tap, tap.
Her bare feet met the cold floor with every step.
It was eerily quiet.
She stopped, hesitating, and then decided to go to her grandmother’s room.
Even as she descended the stairs and turned into the hallway, the uncanny silence remained.
It felt as if the entire house had been emptied out.
“…You didn’t think she’d be that shaken? That child should never have been dragged into this mess like that.”
Maia froze.
Through the crack in her grandmother’s slightly open door, she heard her voice.
“Of course I knew. She’s my daughter—how could I not? But how could I possibly defy that man’s will?”
And then, as Maia carefully approached the door—she opened her eyes wide.
It was her mother’s voice.
She couldn’t see the scene inside, but her mother and grandmother were talking.
“…Ravina.”
“You know just as well as I do. That man never lets go once he gets hold of something.”
It was definitely her mother’s voice. But Maia couldn’t believe it, no matter how clearly she heard it.
That voice, trembling with emotion—she had never once heard her mother speak like that.
“He even wants to cling to Maia. How do I escape from his grasp? How did my life become so entangled with his?”
A voice filled with anguish, barely able to breathe.
And as Maia listened to her mother’s story, she slowly began to realize who “that man” was.
“When I learned he was the Crown Prince, I should have stayed away. …Mother, Father used to praise my youthful boldness, but now I can’t think of anything I despise more.”
It was the Emperor.
Her mother was talking about the Emperor.
“It’s all in the past! Stop this now. I only said anything because that child seemed so devastated. I’m sorry.”
Maia’s head spun.
The world felt like it was tilting. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest.
She staggered back.
In this heavy silence, even the sound of breathing felt like too much.
Maia slowly backed away. And once she was far enough—she ran.
Her destination: her mother Ravina’s bedroom.
It had been more than ten years since Ravina had returned to live in the capital.
The bedroom she had used since she was young remained closed, except for the occasional cleaning by the maids.
Maia threw open the heavy wooden door.
She passed the untouched furniture and approached the drawer beside the large bed.
Clack—
Inside the top drawer, Ravina’s jewelry glimmered faintly.
Maia reached toward the far corner, where she remembered it was kept.
She took out a slender navy-blue case.
Inside, a pair of dazzling earrings sparkled.
They were said to be a gift from Maia’s father to Ravina.
But her mother had never shared this story herself.
It had been her grandmother—bringing Maia into the room her mother once used, sharing fragments of the past with a granddaughter longing for her absent mother.
Maia lifted the earrings and stared at herself in the full-length mirror.
Here they were. A visible remnant of a love long past.
“You know just as well as I do. That man never lets go once he gets hold of something.”
Her mother’s tormented voice came back to her again.
“He even wants to cling to Maia. How do I escape from his grasp? How did my life become so entangled with his?”
Everyone said her mother’s relationship with the Emperor was improper.
She had suffered under the weight of those words—and yet, in the end, she denied them. She believed.
That she was her father’s daughter. That she wasn’t the product of some shameful affair.
She had believed in her mother—whom she loved and respected deeply.
“When I learned he was the Crown Prince, I should have stayed away. …Mother, Father used to praise my youthful boldness, but now I can’t think of anything I despise more.”
But that belief had shattered today.
Her mother had confessed it.
That no matter how painful things were now, an inseverable tie still existed between her and the Emperor.
Still existed.
“I… I’m not my father’s child.”
The words escaped in a whisper—and then a sob tore from her throat.
Why does the Emperor cling to me?
Why did he treat me so kindly at the palace, enough to make others question it?
I’m not my father’s child. I never was.
I was born from the Emperor and… my mother.
That’s why my father abandoned me…
Ah, the embodiment of shame stood right there in the mirror.
Maia wept.
She was too young to understand everything—but she was overwhelmed by her own sorrow.
“…What are you doing?”
As she sobbed in absolute ruin, Hyperion appeared in front of her, looking stunned.
His expression was cold—terrifyingly so.
He had lived through times where even showing confusion was a luxury he couldn’t afford. That was the reaction he’d learned through habit.
But now, to Maia’s young eyes, his face seemed full of scorn and disgust.
So—
“D-Don’t come near me… I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
She cried, pleading incoherently.
And Hyperion… looked even more shocked.
