Chapter 25. A Sleepless Night
“You’re a genius, Lian! I can’t believe you thought of that!”
Serven shouted excitedly—then got kicked in the shin again.
“Keep your voice down. Before someone hears you.”
“Agh, damn it… ow, that hurts… Ugh, who’s even listening? There’s not a soul around!”
“Just because there’s no one around doesn’t mean no one’s listening. Haven’t you heard that walls have ears?”
Grimacing and clutching his shin, Serven raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“And what, if a bird hears it, then what happens?”
“It’ll go tattling to Her Majesty the Empress, that’s what. Then this wicked, dark little scheme I’ve worked so hard to come up with will go straight down the drain.”
Serven let go of his leg and placed a hand on Lian’s shoulder, looking extremely serious.
“Lian. Are you okay? Your big brother is seriously worried about you.”
“This big sister of yours is perfectly fine and extremely clever, so there’s no need.”
“No, seriously, maybe it’s just your delusion. You do know there are no birds in the world that understand human speech and tattle, right?”
Lian gave a faint chuckle.
“Little brother, I think you’re the one with issues. How can you say that after meeting Duke Shryden?”
“I mean, he’s an exception. That’s probably why Duke Brennan even considered passing the title to him in the first place.”
“I always thought that was weird.”
“What was?”
Lian tugged on Serven’s earlobe. He winced but leaned closer to let her speak.
“The way birds keep getting involved.”
“Huh?”
“Remember when I told you I stole something from Her Majesty’s bedchamber?”
“That red stone?”
“Yeah.”
Lian’s face turned serious. Serven, picking up on her mood, also grew solemn.
“Remember how I said a crow stole it from me afterward?”
“I remember.”
“Well, when I was looking around Her Majesty’s room earlier—after she disappeared—I found this.”
Lian dug into her pocket and pulled something out. It was even smaller than an apple seed.
“What is it?”
“A fragment of the stone I took—the one the black bird stole and returned to Her Majesty.”
“Huh?”
“It was lying broken on the floor. Looks like someone dropped it by accident while cleaning up. There weren’t any other pieces around.”
“Wait, the stone broke?”
“Exactly. Stones don’t break. So what if it wasn’t a stone—what if it was an egg?”
Serven shook his head.
“Eggs that solid? That’s a stretch. Stones and eggs have different weights.”
“I know that. But look—see how thin this is? It’s too thin to be stone. And too hard to be a regular eggshell.”
Serven gently brushed the shard with his finger.
“…You’re right.”
“And remember? There just happened to be a bird where Her Majesty was found.”
“So what?”
Putting the shard away, Lian blew a puff of air through her bangs before continuing.
“It’s just… too much of a coincidence. Don’t you think? What if that crow returned the stone to Her Majesty? And think about what Duke Shryden did today. He stepped in at the perfect moment to help—and ended up sticking to Her Majesty like glue and annoying her.”
“So what are you getting at?”
“I think… the birds are helping Her Majesty. And not just one or two of them, either.”
Serven rubbed his forehead.
“Okay, sure, two weird things happened. That doesn’t mean you jump to… I don’t know, conspiracy theories?”
“The First Companion.”
Serven let out a sigh.
“Lian, you’re jumping all over the place. Explain how you even got there.”
“The First Companion was always recorded as being with birds, remember?”
“There’s a record, sure. A bird with fiery red feathers, said to never die—”
“‘And called by later generations the King of Birds.’“
“…?”
“The King of Birds. You think people just made that up for fun?”
Serven sighed again.
“Who was it again that swore they’d beat up whoever made that ancient folktale required reading for the Royal Guard—one scroll per punch?”
“I believe it now. Because Her Majesty is the real thing.”
“…Lian. Again, I still think we need to be cautious.”
“Whatever you say. You’ll see later that I’m right. Anyway, I’m going.”
Lian slipped past Serven smoothly.
“Ah—wait.”
Serven reached out, but Lian was already beyond his grasp. It was clear—she wasn’t blocked by his arm, she let him try to stop her.
Serven stared down the hallway where Lian had disappeared, murmuring to himself.
“It’s a problem if she’s not the real one, but even more of a problem if she is. If that’s the case, His Majesty will love Her Majesty desperately for the rest of his life. Then what are we supposed to do…”
The murmur turned into a sigh.
“Sure, right now she seems okay. For some reason, she’s pretending to have amnesia, acting like a totally different person. But it’s not like her nasty, devious nature just vanished overnight. You’re falling for that act, Lian.”
Yet, even he had nearly fallen for it today. The Empress had seemed like a completely different person.
The way she had desperately tried to save the life of a single palace maid… That just wasn’t like her.
“I mean, yeah—if she is scheming something, then that behavior makes perfect sense…”
But what if she wasn’t?
What if she was just a regular maid… and the Empress really had lost her memory?
“…Then that would be nice.”
Serven looked up and let out a breath.
If the Empress had truly become someone else because of her lost memory—how wonderful that would be.
Then he could spend the rest of his life praying those memories never returned.
Tonight again, Reskal walked into the Empress’s palace, styled to perfection by Person with all his might.
Dressing up before bed wasn’t something Reskal normally did or believed in.
He had even moved his things to the Empress’s quarters so he could stay by her side 24/7—yet he still made the effort to return to the Imperial Palace just to prepare himself.
Even he didn’t understand why.
He just wanted to look good for the Empress, and at the same time, he didn’t want her to know he was trying so hard.
Because of that, the attendants of the Imperial Palace, led by Person, had become increasingly busy.
“Your Majesty the Empress, His Majesty the Emperor has arrived.”
A guard of the Royal Guard opened the door to announce him.
Beyond the door was a sitting room that also served as a receiving area. To the left was the Empress’s bedchamber.
“Don’t follow me.”
Reskal entered the room alone.
There were several things he couldn’t explain.
Whenever he saw the Empress, he wanted to be alone with her. Whether it was a bodyguard or a giant baby bird—it all annoyed him.
Luckily, the Empress had stopped parading around with a horde of attendants.
She hadn’t always been that way. Right after their marriage, she often visited the Imperial Palace with flimsy excuses.
But before he realized, her attitude had changed. She became sharp, told lies, and always showed up surrounded by eight handmaidens.
Back then, Reskal hadn’t cared. He hadn’t even paid attention to the changes. He wasn’t curious about her at all.
But now, he wanted to know everything about her.
He wanted to know what kind of soap she used. He wondered if he used the same soap, would he smell like her? And if he did, would she like the scent on him the way he liked it on her?
“…I guess ‘like’ isn’t the right word.”
Just as he was about to open the bedroom door, Reskal paused and chuckled quietly.
To say he “liked” her was too tame.
He wanted to bury his nose in her skin and inhale until the scent was gone—trap it in his lungs forever. That wasn’t “liking.”
He didn’t know much about normal human emotions, but he had a vague idea of what “liking” meant.
His desire didn’t fall into that polite, affectionate category.
Click.
Pushing aside his thoughts, Reskal opened the door.
“…”
As usual, the Empress didn’t greet him. She was fast asleep, bathed in moonlight.
“…”
Reskal walked to her, holding his breath, trying not to grow rough.
Her moonlit skin looked like smooth ivory. Her loose black hair rippled across her shoulders and back.
She was the first human he had ever found beautiful. That was all, but the first time he saw her, he couldn’t look away.
Her black lashes curled like a crescent moon, and he wanted to kiss them. Her straight nose was gently rounded at the tip. Below it, her lips looked like soft, fragrant fruit he’d never tasted.
“…”
Reskal froze mid-step, caught in a trance.
He couldn’t trust himself.
He knew the Empress had drawn a line between them, just as Lasilia had drawn a line toward the Emperor.
Whenever he crossed it, showed even a hint of his darker instincts, she would stiffen and pull away.
The sudden chill in her eyes and her words—That’s enough, let go—seemed trivial, but they always left a wound.
He mustn’t do anything she hated.
Otherwise, she might come to hate all of him.
Reskal was dull to emotion, but sharp in every other sense.
Today, he had figured out when the Empress hated him less.
When he granted her requests, she let him keep holding her hand. That was the key—he had to build these little chances one at a time.
“…”
Finishing his thoughts, Reskal silenced his steps and approached her. Carefully, he lifted the sleeping Empress and laid her properly on the bed.
Thankfully, she merely twitched her lashes but didn’t wake.
Reskal sat down beside the bed, resting his head against the mattress. From that angle, he could see her clearly.
Even under the dark, cold moonlight of the demon realm that made all things look shadowed and harsh—she was still beautiful.
Feeling the demon blood stirring within him, Reskal held his breath and watched her.
It was a night when sleep must not come.
