#85. The Dangerous Beast
“Did the Emperor grant permission for pilgrimage? That can’t be right.”
“Thanks to Marquis Nettleton. Our Pinch can finally breathe palace air!”
Laila looked thrilled. It had been years since she’d gone out — no wonder she was excited.
Nikolai couldn’t bring himself to smile.
“Do you think prayer will help?”
“The goddess will judge. I’m just so happy we can leave this place.”
“What if your illness worsens while we travel?”
“I still want to go. We’ve tried every medical treatment we could….”
Nikolai wanted her to stay in this small, pretty room.
Was it because of her health? For her safety?
No excuse would do.
He wanted Laila to keep waiting for him with that unchanged smile.
“It’s too dangerous to take Pinch along.”
“Please, Niki. This might be the first and last trip I take with Pinch.”
The Emperor had already given his permission. The Crown Prince’s opinion didn’t matter. Laila knew that better than anyone.
But she also knew how lonely Nikolai would become once she left the palace — like a friend, like a sister, and sometimes like a mother.
“I’ll be back soon. His Majesty assigned a bodyguard, so I’ll be safe.”
“If the guards could truly protect you, His Majesty wouldn’t have locked you away. Don’t forget Penelope is after you and Pinch.”
“I don’t know why the Empress hates me.”
“Because His Majesty loves you.”
“Nikki, you know it too. What His Majesty loves isn’t me… it’s the late Empress Brigitta.” Laila smiled — a pitiful expression, like a wet canary.
Nikolai had never forgotten the shock of meeting Laila for the first time. Golden hair that shone like melted honey. Translucent skin that didn’t match the stiff maid uniform. Full lips with the slightest upward curve — she was the spitting image of the Empress.
If you hung their portraits side by side, you couldn’t tell which was the Empress who bore the Crown Prince and which was the maid who bore a bastard.
“You were like that too. When you first saw me, you almost called me ‘mother.’”
“What kind of lunatic would call a woman only four years older than him ‘mother’?” Nikolai scowled.
“Tch. You did, though.” Laila teased.
“I was just a little surprised. Both His Majesty and I were.”
“If I hadn’t resembled Empress Brigitta, would His Majesty have taken me in?”
“Don’t ask your son that.” Nikolai wrinkled his nose in disgust.
Laila laughed playfully.
“What’s so unsayable between us?”
“If you didn’t look like the Empress, maybe Penelope wouldn’t have gone mad.”
“Would she not?”
Nikolai ticked off the stepmother’s crimes with his fingers. “Sending assassins, poisoning food, bribing maids and valets… what else?”
There was no proof. Laila’s very existence had been thoroughly hidden by Penelope. Laila was the only victim; Penelope had the reputation of a competent, virtuous Empress. And she commanded the full support of the Order that worshiped the god of war and the aristocratic council.
The Emperor, who had to rebuild a kingdom left devastated by the afterlife-flower blight, needed Penelope’s help.
“You bore His Majesty’s child — Pinch carries the royal blood. You should be made the official Empress.”
“I don’t want to provoke Penelope. As long as Pinch is safe, I don’t care.”
When Penelope discovered that a lowly woman had borne the Emperor’s child before her, her fury reached its peak. Repeated attempts on Laila’s life by Penelope left her half-mad. If the Emperor hadn’t locked Laila away in the canary room for her protection, who knew what would have happened. It might have been worse than treason.
“Why must you and Pinch be locked up like criminals? Abdicate Penelope!” Nikolai ground his teeth. Laila patted his shoulder.
“Try to understand His Majesty. You could become a target too.”
Nikolai was the Emperor’s only son. But if Penelope opposed him, his claim to the throne was precarious. The Emperor had to placate Penelope to protect Nikolai. Laila’s being confined to the canary room was half Nikolai’s responsibility.
“When I’m Emperor, I’ll send Penelope to the guillotine.”
“Shh! Someone will say the Crown Prince is plotting treason if they hear that!”
“That woman wouldn’t have abandoned you. Maybe she pretended to and waited for an opportunity.” Laila gazed at the small garden fenced with hawthorn bushes, wearing a sullen expression as if anticipating what might happen.
“Even if the goddess Morašincia doesn’t watch over me, I don’t mind, as long as she protects our Pinch.”
“I’ll escort you and my brother.”
“That’ll only provoke Penelope. The more attention, the more danger.”
“Which temple will you visit?”
“I’ll tell you when I return. His Majesty prepared a very special bodyguard.”
“Who is it?” Nikolai asked. Laila pointed to the shadow at her feet.
“They say it’s a mysterious clan that moves through shadows. Can you believe it?”
They left the High Priest behind and hurried out of the stables. His knees trembled as if from a long endurance run and his vision swam. Arcanso, who had been waiting, supported him.
“Her body is a treasure of the Order and of the world. Please take care.” Arcanso said the embarrassing line without changing expression.
He pushed Arcanso away and wiped the cold sweat on his brow with the back of his hand.
“What did you speak to the High Priest about?” Arcanso asked. He deflected the question.
“I’m getting hungry. What do priests eat?”
“Only humble things worthy to offer to the Saint. I’ll ask one of my attendants who is a cook and try my best.”
“I want something spicy and chewy.”
Today he craved tteokbokki. Just imagining hot rice cakes with melted mozzarella made his mouth water. If only he could have them with freshly fried squid, kimbap, and sundae — it would clear his foggy head and settle his queasy stomach. A dream he couldn’t have in this world.
“So you like such food. I’ll remember.” Arcanso said.
“Also get something for His Majesty. You’ll need something before you return to the palace.”
Arcanso looked at him blankly. It was hard to guess what he was thinking since his eyes were covered.
“What is His Majesty to you?” Arcanso suddenly asked.
The question startled his breath.
‘A contractor? A boss? A guardian? Or…’ The warm, cool scent that wrapped him. Broad shoulders, large hands. Teal eyes thirsty for him. The dizzying image of a kiss that could burn his soul scattered in his head.
Before he could answer, Arcanso asked again.
“Are you following Laila’s trail because of His Majesty?”
He frowned and glared at him.
“Have you been eavesdropping?”
“I have an overly keen ear. If I offended you, I apologize. Please forgive me.” Arcanso began to kneel. He grabbed Arcanso’s arm and pulled him up.
“Stop kneeling! You’ll get arthritis later.”
“Are you worried? It is my honor, Saint.”
Arcanso answered with a bright face. A man who simply could not be argued with.
“You’re not forgiven yet.”
“I will serve the Saint until I am forgiven.”
“Arcanso. People say you’re stubborn and persistent, right?” he said with loaded sarcasm.
Arcanso nodded as if impressed.
“You noticed my reputation at once.”
“You gave me a worse headache.”
“I’ll prepare a medicine to relieve your headache right away.”
“The Order makes medicines?”
“We have many believers who seek healing. Thanks to the goddess’s grace, there are many healers and apothecaries. They’re quite skilled.” Arcanso said with quiet pride.
‘Douglas’s grandfather didn’t visit the temple just to pray. Maybe he sought a hint.’ Douglas’s grandfather had worried about the two of them until his death. Laila, wasting away in the canary room. His granddaughter Susan’s periodic convulsions. He’d tried to help them both to the end and left many research notes, but he failed to save Laila, and he couldn’t determine Susan’s illness either.
‘Did he fail? Did the pain defeat him?’ He resolved to visit the Nettleton manor when he returned to the capital.
‘The High Priest never spoke about Laila. He only said she came with a young boy. What secrets do Franz and Laila hold? It must be linked to Nikolai…’ He hadn’t asked Nikolai about Laila. There was no guarantee Nikolai would answer. He himself kept saying “please wait” to Nikolai. They were two lighthouses built of solid bricks called secrets, looking at each other but unable to approach — unable to truly understand one another.
“Thinking of His Majesty?” Arcanso shook him out of his reverie.
“Not your concern.” He replied coldly.
Arcanso took a breath and said, “His Majesty is not good for the Saint. Being close to him is dangerous.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you know? He carries two souls.” Two souls?
The sudden remark made his head swim. Arcanso’s composed face twisted.
“Actually, I should have delivered the oracle to His Majesty too.”
“You said you couldn’t reveal it to an unbeliever?”
“The Morašincia Order has a deep connection with the Yevrei dynasty since the Former Emperor’s time. Though he didn’t formally join, His Majesty is still under the goddess Morašincia’s hand.”
“Then why hide it?”
“Because he harbors a very dangerous beast.” Arcanso lowered his head. The word ‘beast’ flew like a dagger and lodged in his chest.
“You said a beast that His Majesty cannot properly control is more dangerous. What is that beast?”
“Saint, have you ever looked at His Majesty through Morašincia’s eyes?”
“Twice. But I didn’t see red smoke. His Majesty is health itself.”
“Because he shares a beast, no earthly illness can afflict him.” Arcanso answered as if it were obvious.
A worry beyond frustration shot to the top of his head. He pressed a hand against Arcanso’s chest and lowered his voice threateningly.
“Explain it in terms I can understand.”
“You won’t believe it. Verify it yourself, Saint.”
“How?”
