Chapter 26
“How is it?”
Mia asked, looking into the mirror.
“Hmm…”
It felt strange to say this about herself, but it really did suit her.
Now she understood why her closet at home was full of light-colored clothes.
Because they suited her best.
She could leave her hair down and it would still look nice, braid it to the side and it would still look good, or tie it all back into one ponytail and it would still work.
She’d thought she didn’t care for fancy things, but without realizing it, Charmant kept stroking the soft fabric over and over.
“I think it’s perfect.”
In the end, Charmant was honest.
Mia burst into bright laughter.
“Right? I think it’s perfect too. You’ll be the best-dressed at the banquet this time. Ah, I’m satisfied. There’s still a little extra in the waist even after taking it in—should I tighten it more?”
“No, I think this feels more comfortable.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad.”
As Charmant imagined what the banquet hall might be like, she turned to look at Mia.
“Mia.”
“Mm?”
“Do you… no, never mind.”
Charmant had been about to ask if she knew anything about Lientbell, but stopped herself.
“What’s with that? Don’t start talking and then drop it.”
“I guess I’m just nervous. I can’t remember what the banquet hall looks like at all.”
Mia smiled and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Since when do you care about that? It’s fine, it’s fine. Go on, change back now. I need to do a final check.”
“Okay.”
The banquet hall was bustling.
If Lientbell valued elegance and nobility, Elium seemed to be all about joy and welcome.
The two countries truly couldn’t be more different.
Charmant, being from the quiet Lientbell, would have been like a fish out of water here if she hadn’t gotten used to noisy crowds at the shop.
It was also fortunate that Aheel Duff was there.
“If you don’t know something, just ask.”
“I forgot how to refuse a dance.”
Charmant’s tone was unusually serious.
She’d thought she had memorized everything, but had forgotten something important.
If she absolutely had to, she’d grit her teeth and get it over with like overdue homework, but if she could avoid it, she really hated dancing.
“Just say your glass isn’t empty yet. No one here will force you to dance.”
“Good. Then I have no other problems.”
Mia had worried yesterday that “that magician bastard” would just show up wearing all black, but he actually appeared in proper formal attire.
Of course, it was still black.
His hair, which usually looked carelessly done, was neatly combed back, making his features look sharper than usual. Otherwise, he was surprisingly dashing.
Before entering the banquet hall, she had the absurd thought—What if I suddenly turned back into the real Charmant Noel Kenders’ body?
But once inside, apart from the different atmosphere from Lientbell, it didn’t feel all that different, and her nerves began to ease.
Still, she got quite a few puzzled looks.
Not so much Who’s that? as Charmant Pepe? Here?
Apparently, Pepe was fairly well-known among the nobility.
Holding a champagne glass Aheel had handed her, Charmant slowly began blending into the atmosphere.
The only thing left was to see what angle the king would take when talking about Lientbell.
She didn’t want to simply say she couldn’t remember—she needed information.
“I’ll be right back. Won’t take long.”
“Mm.”
Aheel spotted someone and quickly disappeared.
Charmant subtly moved to a spot with fewer prying eyes.
While she waited, a familiar man bustled through the crowd, looking around until he spotted her and broke into a wide smile.
Curly hair, a thick white beard—it was the man who had brought the invitation.
“Marquis Charmant Pepe.”
Charmant dipped her head politely.
She had planned to speak casually—she’d heard even people from the palace spoke informally to each other—but the words stuck in her throat.
No wonder the eyes of the people who had visited before seemed so strange—this was why.
She’d heard Pepe even spoke informally to the king, but in her common sense, that was unimaginable.
If she wanted to open the topic of Lientbell with the king, she couldn’t claim memory loss here.
While the villagers might accept that excuse, it wouldn’t work in the palace.
“Thank you for attending. His Majesty is waiting for you.”
“Now? But the banquet hasn’t started yet.”
“He wishes to speak with you before it begins.”
Oh… so maybe I don’t even have to say anything first.
She glanced around for Aheel Duff, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Since she’d already mentioned possibly meeting the king beforehand, he’d probably assume that’s where she had gone. She set down her champagne glass.
“Then let’s go right away.”
She was eager to confirm things for herself too.
The bearded man led her along.
Charmant glanced at the guards stationed at intervals along the corridor.
The polished spearheads looked sharp enough to be pointed at her throat at any moment.
When they reached a solid-looking set of doors, the doormen bowed respectfully to the bearded man and to Charmant.
The doors opened.
Charmant’s jaw stiffened with tension.
“Welcome, Marquis.”
Inside, an elderly king greeted her warmly.
North Terian Elium.
He was known for his gentle nature and lack of talent for war, but even Charmant acknowledged his deep care for his people.
The fact that no one in his country starved was reason enough for him to sit on the throne—at least, when viewed without considering Lientbell.
To Lientbell, however, he was nothing but easy prey.
That was why Rakan had harassed him relentlessly for ten years.
Charmant approached and chose the safest of the formal greetings she’d been taught.
“For the glory of Elium.”
“How many times must I ask before you come? Must I beg you like this every time?”
Do I really have to speak informally? What if I get arrested?
Her mouth wouldn’t open.
Oh, whatever happens happens.
Grinding her teeth, she forced a bright smile.
“You could just come find me yourself. Don’t be such a bother.”
Cold sweat ran down her back the moment she spoke.
The king roared with laughter.
“Hahaha! That’s what I like about you. Sit down.”
Charmant blinked in surprise.
…It’s true.
Awkwardly, she sat where he indicated.
What on earth… what was Pepe’s real identity?
As soon as she sat, the king launched into lively small talk.
Charmant replied more casually than before, though still a bit stiff, avoiding direct eye contact.
“…That’s why I wanted your advice.”
The king’s voice grew heavier as he reached the main topic.
“Lientbell?”
“That’s right. What else could be troubling me? That’s the biggest problem.”
“Mm.”
Charmant nodded.
She’d been planning to bring up Lientbell anyway, so this was convenient.
“Forming friendly relations with them would be a welcome thing for us—we could finally prevent unnecessary sacrifices. But, as you’ve said before, it’s suspicious.”
Lientbell had offered to join hands?
That was news to her.
Back then, she had known Lientbell and Elium to be locked in constant hostility.
In fact, Lientbell had been gathering information to be ready to invade Elium at any time.
Rakan had set his sights on Elium for ten years, forcing Elium to spend that entire time struggling not to be swallowed.
An “alliance” was like saying oil and water had become best friends.
“But tell me, why would Lientbell willingly hand over a sacrifice?”
“A sacrifice?”
What sacrifice?
Charmant blurted the question before she could stop herself. The king’s eyebrows shot up.
Realizing her mistake, she waved a hand quickly.
“Ah, that sacrifice.”
“Well, we don’t have to sacrifice anyone from our side, so it’s good for us… but still. As you said, I ordered an investigation. What was his name again? Fel… ah, my memory isn’t what it used to be.”
Charmant froze.
“Felick…”
It couldn’t be. No way she’d hear that name here—
“Ah, was it Felick Crasson? Or Crason? Yes, that’s it. Of course you’d remember. Felick Crason, Radi Pizertha, Eltine Shire. Pretty fancy names for people they just call slaves, don’t you think?”
“….”
Slaves?
Sacrifice. Slaves. Elium.
Elium. Sacrifice. Slaves.
Charmant’s mind raced.
There’s something I’m forgetting. Why would Elium need a sacrifice? What was it? Come on, think.
She pushed herself to remember—then froze.
Sacrifice. Sacrifice.
“Ah.”
A soft groan escaped her lips.
She remembered. What kind of sacrifice it was.
In Elium, once every thirty years, a ritual was performed.
A ritual unknown to the people—known only to the royal family.
Small but prosperous Elium.
Before it was founded, this land had been known as Salid—a cursed land.
It was said to be steeped in the blood of elves who had betrayed both the god of plenty and the god of Salid, making it uninhabitable.
To calm that divine wrath, humans had performed rituals, spilling more blood upon the soil.
Only then had Elium been established.
Since then, tradition dictated that once every ten years, the ground must be stained with the blood of a sacrifice to keep the peace.
Otherwise, plagues or great famines would inevitably strike.
It was a hidden truth—known only to a very small number of people in this warm, fairy-tale-like country.
She remembered thinking at the time, So there’s always a cost, no matter where you are.
Why did I forget this?
Of course, the common people of Elium had no idea.
It was a ritual passed down in secret among the royal family.
And now, she realized that Lientbell intended to slip their own disciples into that role—without her knowing, keeping it completely hidden from her.
