Chapter 57
Perhaps because he had failed to kill Ian, he now seemed to be working harder than ever to create an atmosphere of fear.
“Has His Majesty the Emperor given a response?”
While wet nurse Karen was breastfeeding Ian, Amelia faced Lady Werner, who had come to see her.
“He has summoned you immediately.”
“Right now?”
Amelia asked, and Lady Werner nodded. Considering how Ivan had repeatedly rejected her requests for an audience and exploded in anger over the divine revelation issue, this was an unexpected decision.
“Lady Howard.”
At Amelia’s call, Lady Howard, who had been sitting beside Karen reading a book, lifted her head.
“Don’t leave Ian alone.”
“Don’t worry.”
Lady Howard responded with a gentle smile. The palace had already been turned upside down once. Acting on Ivan’s orders, Rodan and Lady Werner had handpicked personnel one by one. Even that wasn’t enough—they moved in groups of three, monitoring each other at all times.
Even in such conditions, Lady Howard didn’t touch any snacks given to her by others. She was so cautious that she wouldn’t even eat meals unless they were homemade.
“I’m counting on you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With that, Amelia rose from her seat.
“Let’s go, Lady Werner.”
Lady Werner’s eyes asked whether they were departing immediately. Amelia answered with a gesture, silently telling her to take the lead. She was in her indoor dress anyway, and didn’t see the need to dress up for a sudden summons. It wasn’t as though the man hadn’t already seen her bare body—what difference would clothing make now?
As if sensing her thoughts, Lady Werner moved without complaint, and Amelia quietly followed behind.
“By order of His Majesty, I’ve brought the Priestess.”
Lady Werner explained the situation to the guards at the main palace entrance. The guards lowered their crossed spears, clearing the way. Amelia passed between them without resistance.
“We’re almost there.”
Though she had seen the exterior before, it was her first time stepping inside the main palace. Even when she was at the temple, Ivan had always come secretly at night like a thief. He had never invited Amelia to the main palace himself.
“Your Majesty.”
She knew why. There had never been a reason.
“I’ve brought the Priestess.”
Lady Werner stopped in front of the door where Ivan was, and announced Amelia’s presence.
“His Majesty says to enter.”
The door opened, and a man with glasses emerged, giving permission to come in. Lady Werner tactfully stepped back.
“Rodan, you too—leave us.”
Rodan, who had been about to close the door, hesitated. His gaze flicked between Ivan and Amelia. Ivan silently gestured toward the door again. With a resigned look, Rodan complied.
Now, only Amelia and Ivan remained. Amelia quietly gazed at the man who remained seated, showing no sign of rising. As if it were a battle where the first to speak would lose, neither said a word, and the room was filled with silence.
“…Why would Duke Russell try to kill Ian?”
Amelia was the one who lost the battle of silence. It had always been that way between them.
“Because it benefits him.”
Ivan replied surprisingly straightforwardly.
“The moment the child dies, the first person people will suspect is me. And once the temple protests his death, I’ll be forced by the oath to detain you. Then I become a tyrant oppressing God’s representative.”
“……”
“That would be the perfect excuse for a rebellion disguised as a holy war.”
He had apparently deduced the full picture of Duke Russell’s motives from just that one incident. Amelia, who had been with them all this time, hadn’t seen it so clearly.
“Claiming to kill the tyrant who defied divine will and slaughtered innocents. What a convenient excuse.”
Amelia suddenly felt hollow. She realized that simply shielding Ian alone would not be enough to protect him. She wasn’t as skilled at reading people or politics as Ivan. She had been naive—believing only what she wanted to believe.
“Then… will he keep trying to kill Ian?”
It had always lingered in her mind, a question she couldn’t answer on her own. Now she hoped Ivan would know. But he didn’t answer right away. He seemed to believe the answer was yes.
“He knows I’ll never acknowledge Ian as crown prince. He probably thinks it’s more efficient to use that as a pretext for rebellion.”
Both Ivan and Duke Russell were masters at reading and manipulating human hearts. Russell, more than anyone, would know Ivan wouldn’t accept Ian. All he had to do was weather public outrage and wait—the eventual outcome would be in his favor.
Ian had no legitimate claim to the throne and was far too young. After Ivan took in the priestess and named the child as heir, it was even harder to force the issue. And Russell couldn’t uphold a fake prophecy forever. Eventually, people would stop believing it. They’d start saying the priestess had lost her divine power.
So Ian would never become crown prince. But they couldn’t undermine the temple either. The easiest path, then, was to use him and throw him away later.
That was likely Duke Russell’s plan. Ivan saw through it easily.
“If you acknowledged him as crown prince… would that save him?”
Amelia asked in a trembling voice.
“Probably. As long as I don’t try to kill him. He’ll be used as a political tool for as long as I live.”
For someone outside the royal bloodline to aim for the throne, they’d need justification—saving the people from a cruel emperor, or a lack of legitimate heirs. Otherwise, their rule could only be justified by a peaceful takeover.
Duke Russell, claiming to be a devout servant of God, could wield divine authority—but it also bound him. He couldn’t just stage a coup under any pretense.
A peaceful transfer of power—that was the ideal, wasn’t it? If Ian became crown prince, they could use God’s name to manipulate him like a puppet, just like Amelia. And as long as Ivan lived, there’d be no reason to kill Ian, who would be the next most powerful figure.
“But once I die, the child will be killed too—discarded like a hunting dog that’s served its purpose. Just like your bloodline always has been.”
Russell likely didn’t just want to play power behind the scenes. Eventually, he would aim for the throne himself. That meant Ian and Ivan were now tied to the same fate.
“You made it that way.”
Ivan’s gaze dropped to Amelia’s trembling hands. Was it anger or sorrow she felt? Her hands were now resting on the floor.
“……”
His gaze lowered further. Amelia had knelt.
“…What are you doing?”
Ivan stared at her pale, delicate face. He couldn’t fully read her thoughts, but desperation was clearly written on her expression.
“Please save him.”
Amelia whispered.
“Ian’s just a child.”
If begging would help, she would do it. Ivan’s eyes moved to the hands tightly clutching her skirt on her lap.
“It doesn’t make sense for a newborn to be closer to death than to life.”
Her hands were now trembling. Ivan didn’t argue. He, too, must have agreed—it was far too early for such a fate. As Ian’s father, he must have felt something.
“I…”
Amelia, still bowed, began to speak. Ivan tilted his head to hear.
“I was wrong.”
What followed the brief silence was an apology. She was sorry for betraying his expectations. She was wrong.
“I was afraid you’d keep pretending Ian didn’t exist.”
“……”
“He has no one else to lean on but you.”
Ivan ran a hand over his face. He looked weary, as if remembering the day Amelia publicly issued the false prophecy. The hint of betrayal lingered on his expression.
“If Ian becomes crown prince, he’ll at least be useful to the temple. They won’t harm him.”
“……”
“That’s why I did it.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, gliding over her soft skin. Amelia now felt like clinging to his pant leg, if that’s what it took.
“I won’t do it again. I’ll do whatever you ask. Just, please—let Ian live…”
She sobbed. Ivan stared at the tears soaking her skirt. As if it were rain, the fabric darkened with every drop—he looked at it almost curiously.
“Was that all?”
Suddenly, Ivan asked.
Amelia raised her tear-streaked face.
“That wasn’t it, was it?”
His face blurred in her teary vision.
“You wanted revenge on me. Didn’t you?”
His accusing voice rang out, hazy through the tears. Amelia felt numb.
Ivan sneered at her blank expression.
“I never promised to make you my wife. I never promised wealth for your child. But you acted like it was yours by right—and resented me.”
He trampled the hopes she once dared to hold. And now, he condemned her for daring to rebel.
