Chapter 38
“It would be best not to give this to His Majesty the Emperor.”
Princess Phileone spoke firmly.
Trillinia’s face flushed a deep red. This time, she did not bother to hide her expression.
“Princess Phileone,”
Trillinia stressed each syllable of the princess’s name.
“What exactly do you mean by that? Surely you don’t mean my marmalade is so poor in quality that it cannot be presented to His Majesty the Emperor?”
She could not contain her agitation. Her sharp voice grew louder and louder.
Her clenched fists trembled as she suddenly shot up from her seat.
“I brought this as a gift for you, Princess, and this is the insult I receive in return!”
“Please sit down.”
Even as Trillinia raised her voice, Princess Phileone remained calm. Speaking softly, she picked up the jar of marmalade.
“This was made with oranges, wasn’t it?”
“Yes! From none other than a region renowned for cultivating the sweetest, most fragrant oranges under warm sunshine. I purchased only the finest fruits directly from their orchards.”
Trillinia’s sharp voice dripped with pride.
“Indeed. Even as jam, the orange flavor and fragrance remain strong.”
Phileone gently swirled the jar in her hand.
A bright citrus aroma spread through the room—so much so that even Haon, standing nearby, could smell it.
“Are you mocking me?”
Trillinia’s face reddened further as she fumed.
“You say it tastes good, yet you claim it shouldn’t be given to His Majesty.”
“That is exactly why it mustn’t be.”
Phileone set down the jar and met Trillinia’s eyes.
“His Majesty despises oranges.”
“Wh-what…?”
“He finds them quite offensive. If he were to accidentally taste one, I believe he would be furious. It’s best to avoid that risk.”
At those words, silence fell upon the sitting room.
Trillinia, who had been so fiery and restless moments before, froze in place.
Phileone, maintaining her composure, simply picked up a butter knife and spread some marmalade over a piece of toast.
Crunch, crunch. The sound of her quietly finishing the toast echoed in the silence.
“To think His Majesty dislikes oranges so much…”
Trillinia collapsed back into her seat. She looked not only flustered but stunned.
“If I had actually presented the marmalade…”
Her face turned pale.
“Instead of earning his favor, I might have been cast out of His Majesty’s sight entirely.”
A shiver ran through her body. After shaking away the dreadful thought, she gradually regained her composure.
“How did you know?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“The flavor and fragrance made it obvious.”
Phileone, having already finished her toast, wiped her hands.
“No, I mean—how did you know that His Majesty dislikes oranges?”
Trillinia sounded dazed.
“Frankly, my family is deeply connected to the imperial household. We have visited the palace often and even consider ourselves familiar with the imperial family. I have met His Majesty several times, yet I have never once heard of such a thing.”
Small details were always the hardest to know. That was why Trillinia found it so curious that Princess Phileone knew something so specific, yet so intimate.
“I nearly made the same mistake once. But this child warned me beforehand, and I avoided disaster thanks to her.”
Phileone gestured to Haon standing behind her.
Caught off guard by the sudden mention, Haon gave an awkward smile.
“You…!”
Trillinia frowned faintly. Until now she had not truly registered the maid’s face, but as she looked more carefully, realization struck.
She clearly remembered this maid—the one who had dared to defy her at the imperial ball.
‘At that time, Trillinia had been insulting our princess…’
Haon met her gaze unflinchingly, bolstered by her own justification. Trillinia, perhaps pricked by her conscience, said nothing more.
“Ahem… a truly loyal maid,” Trillinia muttered, offering a perfunctory compliment as she turned her gaze aside.
But Haon did not take her eyes off Trillinia.
‘What is she plotting?’
It was suspicious.
The Trillinia Haon knew would never come all the way to the detached palace simply to gift some marmalade.
‘There must be another motive.’
Haon kept a hawk’s eye on her, but Trillinia engaged in nothing more than light, ordinary chatter with the princess.
Eventually, as the conversation wore on, Anten dismissed Haon to tend to other matters. One attendant was enough to serve during casual tea.
“Just here to visit, really?”
Even as she stepped out, Haon could not shake her doubts. She lingered nearby, unwilling to stray far lest something happen in her absence.
“Ho ho ho!”
Laughter rang from within the sitting room—bright, high-pitched. It was unmistakably Trillinia’s voice.
“She’s… laughing with Princess Phileone?”
The sight—or rather, the sound—was strange.
“Come to think of it, she seemed very conscious of the princess. Nervous, even shy.”
For Haon, who had only ever known Trillinia as a haughty villainess, it was a baffling image. With an uneasy heart, she finally moved away.
As a lowly maid, Haon had no real duties beyond amusing the princess with songs. With all other chores already occupied, she had nothing to do.
“Well, I suppose this counts as officially permitted idling.”
She quickly accepted her unexpected free time. She had never been so diligent as to go looking for extra tasks anyway.
“What should I do so people will say I spent my time well?”
Determined not to get dragged into chores, Haon decided to leave the detached palace entirely.
But she didn’t know the palace grounds all that well. If she had visited a place even once, she could memorize it perfectly—but in truth, the only places she’d been were the main palace, the Fifth Palace, and…
“Maybe I’ll check out the First Palace again.”
It was broad daylight, after all.
“Not like I can wander into the main or Fifth Palace.”
She had few options.
“The First Palace is always deserted. Perfect for killing time unnoticed.”
Aside from the eerie atmosphere, it was the ideal place to waste an afternoon unseen.
“And if I find a new clue, Prince Shi will be pleased.”
Adding that small, selfish thought, Haon gathered her courage.
Empty buildings naturally decayed quickly.
Though barely half a year had passed, the First Palace already carried a chilling aura even under the sun. Its abandoned, desolate air was heavy.
“Maybe it just feels colder here than elsewhere…”
She hugged herself, shivering.
Hesitating at the great doors of the palace, she screwed her eyes shut.
“Here goes!”
Pushing with both hands, she heaved. The cold, heavy doors creaked open with a low, dull groan.
“What… what is this?”
She froze on the threshold.
Though it was day outside, the interior was shrouded in darkness—all the curtains drawn tight. Only the light spilling through the wide-open doors pierced the gloom.
And on the floor before her, plain to see in the dusty layer she hadn’t noticed on her nighttime visit before, were countless footprints.
The prints leading straight toward the study belonged to the culprit, Prince Shi, and herself. But in the opposite direction… there were far too many to count.
“So the intruder didn’t only go to the study?”
A chill gripped her.
Aside from that single set of tracks into the study, all the rest went elsewhere—so many overlapping prints that no single footstep could be distinguished.
“What could possibly be here that so many came looking for?”
She swallowed hard, but she couldn’t just turn back now.
“It’s fine. It’s daytime.”
She whispered it like a spell, reassuring herself that daylight meant safety.
Carefully, she followed the tangled trail. With so many prints, it was easy to trace.
“Where is this…?”
She had only seen the study before, never the rest of the palace.
Following the path, she arrived at a richly decorated door.
Slowly, she pushed it open.
Inside, the room was bright. All curtains pulled back, windows flung wide to let in the breeze.
“A bedroom.”
The great bed was the first thing she saw. Along one wall, shelves of books stood filled. A mahogany desk sat before them, much like the study.
“Prince Bui must have been a real bookworm.”
Despite the bed, the room hardly differed from a study.
“Nothing here seems out of place…”
But a bedroom was the most private of places. There might have been crucial clues here—though unfortunately, Prince Shi could only reconstruct the crime scene itself.
Haon approached the bed, pressing down on the soft blankets.
Then—she felt it.
A presence.
Goosebumps shot up her neck.
She spun around. The door to the bathroom stood half open.
“N-no way…”
Her face went rigid.
Through the gap of the bathroom door, she saw it—
The faint movement of a dark silhouette.
