Chapter 40
Leto took me to his office. He searched for something on the innermost bookshelf.
While I sat on the sofa, Yuten approached and set a cup on the table. Strangely enough, it contained wine.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“After the ball ended, His Majesty personally instructed the head chef,” Yuten replied. “He said warmed wine is good for easing body aches.”
Yuten quietly left the office. Steam rose faintly from the wine.
—You promised yesterday. You said you’d come after the banquet ended.
‘…It does seem like he meant it.’
I took a sip of the wine. It was warm and sweet.
Leto returned holding a bundle of documents and silently handed it to me.
“What is this?”
“Proof that the imperial family monitors its citizens—and a classified document.”
“What?”
I took the papers and opened them. A long list of unfamiliar names filled the pages, accompanied by personal details such as gender, place of birth, and occupation.
“What is all this? Who are these people?”
“People in the Empire with red hair and violet eyes.”
“…That’s absurd. Why would the imperial family have records like this?”
“That’s why it’s classified.”
Leto sat beside me and traced the names on the document with his finger.
“There are about fifty across the entire Empire. My mother’s name was once on this list as well.”
Only about fifty. No wonder they were considered rare.
“When did they start compiling this list?”
“Before my father was even born. It’s been a long time.”
“Is it simply because they’re rare?”
He shook his head.
“It’s because of an old belief. You know—the idea that people with those features possess potential beyond that of ordinary people, whatever form that talent may take.”
“But that’s just folklore. From the looks of it, most of them are commoners. It doesn’t seem like something the imperial family needs to be wary of.”
“This is the imperial palace. Anything that could become a risk isn’t ignored. There are plenty of organizations that move in secrecy.”
“That’s… unsettling.”
“That’s what power is like. There’s more darkness than glory.”
Leto smiled, though it didn’t feel like something to smile about.
I looked through the list again. Artists and scholars stood out—professions impossible without genuine talent.
“Do you believe that rumor, Your Majesty?”
“Not at all. I’ve simply kept it because I can’t abruptly stop something my father maintained. But this kind of list should end with my generation.”
I would have thought the same—if not for Meril.
If the rumor were true, then Meril’s talent lay in magic. Magic powerful enough to save the imperial family.
That was when it struck me.
A question flashed through my mind. I checked the list again.
No matter how many times I looked—
“She’s not here, is she?”
Leto lowered the document. I looked at him.
“I’ve never seen the name Meril Istera on this list.”
Silence fell. Only the candle flames flickered softly.
It was shocking. Then that meant Leto’s interest in Meril wasn’t—
“…Did you suspect her?”
“How could I not?”
Earlier, Leto had said that though he had danced with many young ladies, Meril was different.
I hadn’t realized that difference was suspicion.
“I asked her many questions while dancing—her hometown, her parents, her family, relatives, upbringing, even the tutor who educated her.”
“And?”
He shook his head slightly.
“She was ordinary. A noble only in name—the only daughter of parents who were little different from rural peasants. She said she was frail and rarely went outside.”
“If she’s from the countryside, where exactly?”
“The Swyn region.”
Swyn was practically a backwater.
“That’s a place the imperial family barely reaches. It could’ve simply been an oversight.”
“For now, that seems likely. Still, it needs to be verified.”
In the original story, Meril’s origins were also said to be from a remote province. It wasn’t implausible.
Only now did I understand what had happened at the ball—except for one thing.
“Did you really need to ask all that while dancing?”
“It would’ve been a waste of time otherwise.”
A waste of time.
He truly spoke as if Meril’s appearance meant nothing.
“Especially when I needed to go up to your chambers the moment the ball ended.”
Something was going terribly wrong. I grabbed Leto’s arm.
“Your Majesty. Please be honest with me.”
“About what?”
“Did you like Lady Meril?”
“Not at all.”
“She resembles someone dear to you. And she’s extraordinarily beautiful.”
“None of that is a reason.”
No—wasn’t that exactly why he liked her in the original story?
“I have you. Why would I need anyone else?”
‘…So it’s because of me.’
“Your Majesty, we—”
“Need to divorce?”
It was rare—almost unheard of—for that word to come from his lips.
“Livia. Do you remember what I said last night? That I’d made a decision.”
My thoughts drifted back to the night before.
—I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I think I’ve finally made up my mind.
“I remember.”
“I’m sorry, Livia.”
He gently embraced me, then whispered softly into my ear.
“We can’t divorce.”
“…What?”
“That’s absolutely out of the question.”
I pushed him away. He let himself be pushed back easily, wearing a faint smile.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. You understand, don’t you?”
“We agreed from the beginning.”
“Agreed?”
He gently brushed my cheek, his touch unbearably tender.
“Did I ever once say I’d divorce you?”
“…!”
Only then did I realize.
How had I not noticed? Not once had he said yes. He had always remained silent—or changed the subject.
I sprang to my feet. The table shook, and wine spilled, soaking the hem of my skirt.
“You deceived me.”
Leto’s gaze dropped to my skirt. He lightly grasped the damp fabric.
“Yes. Curse me if you want. Hate me. Blame me however you like.”
He pulled the hem closer and pressed his lips to it.
“But I can’t live without you anymore.”
Meril stood by a window in the banquet hall, surrounded by young noblemen.
They chattered loudly, each desperate to catch her attention. Meril, however, drank her wine in silence.
What had happened earlier wouldn’t leave her mind.
While dancing, she’d felt as if she’d gained the entire world. She never wanted to let go of his hand.
—You came from the Swyn region? When did your ancestors settle there?
—Have you ever traveled to the capital? Who is your most distinguished relative?
—What is the relationship between the Istera family and Swyn’s administrators? Do they know you?
—What is your earliest memory? Have you ever been told you were adopted?
She had memorized all the answers before attending the banquet, repeating them until exhaustion. She answered flawlessly.
But she could feel it.
The attention Leto gave her—it was suspicion.
Still, it didn’t matter. Turning suspicion into curiosity was easy.
When the dance ended, Meril spoke.
—It’s my first time dancing socially… I feel dizzy. I’d like to go to the terrace.
—Is that so?
Leto summoned a nearby attendant.
—Show the lady to an empty terrace. And, Lady—
Meril smiled sweetly at his call. Leto spoke without expression.
—It is improper to offer your hand first to a member of the imperial family at a ball. Be mindful of that next time.
That was all.
Meril clenched her wineglass tightly.
“My dear.”
Count and Countess Istera approached. Meril didn’t even look at them. The Countess grabbed her arm.
“It’s late. We should return.”
Meril stared at her adoptive mother’s hand—wrinkled and worn—then shook it off.
“M‑Meril?”
She placed the empty wineglass into the woman’s hand.
“I’ll return on my own, Mother.”
With that, Meril brushed past them. The Countess’s hand trembled. Her adopted daughter felt like a stranger.
Meril left the hall and walked slowly down an empty corridor.
Click. Click. Click.
Her footsteps quickened—until she was nearly running.
Click! Click! Click! Click! Stop.
She halted at the entrance of the central palace. Lifting her skirt, she removed her shoes.
Her feet were a mess from the new heels. She picked them up and began walking barefoot.
Her destination was the Grand Temple. A priest happened to be exiting.
Meril murmured a spell.
“Ugh—”
The priest collapsed instantly. Meril donned his robe.
Pulling the hood over her head, she felt as if she’d returned to her former self—before she’d ever known hope.
She entered the temple without hesitation. No one found her suspicious. Wherever she walked, bloody footprints trailed behind her.
Bang!
She threw open the door to the High Priest’s office. The High Priest and Dante were seated on the sofa.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
The High Priest shouted. No mere priest would dare burst in like this.
Meril removed the robe.
“Meril?”
“What schemes are you plotting now, Your Eminence? Chief Priest Dante?”
She perched on the sofa, crossing her legs. Blood- and dirt-smeared feet were fully exposed.
Dante raised an eyebrow slightly.
She’s lost her mind. Looks like she failed to seduce the Emperor.
She had seemed promising while dancing with him. But the terrace had decided everything. The Emperor had returned to the Empress.
In truth, they had been discussing how to deal with Meril. Now that she was useless, eliminating her was safest.
“If the banquet is over, a young lady should return home quietly,” Dante sneered.
“Leave, Meril,” the High Priest said coldly.
He was deeply disappointed. He had invested a great deal to make her into a noblewoman—only for one dance? With looks like hers?
Meril smiled and lifted the glass before the High Priest.
“The temple seemed more interesting than home.”
She looked at them both, then took a sip.
“Let me join you.”
She set the glass down with a clink. Dante frowned in disgust.
“Enough nonsense. Leave—unless you want to be dragged out.”
“Don’t you want to harm the imperial couple?”
A dangerously reckless statement.
Silence fell instantly.
“You’ve truly decided to die,” Dante snarled, reaching for her arm.
The High Priest raised a hand to stop him.
There was something different about her—an overwhelming force, a desire twisted with blind rage.
That desire… might be useful.
“We intend to overthrow the imperial family. Something far more fundamental than mere murder.”
“I’m afraid I can’t grasp such lofty intentions. So—will you harm them or not?”
“In the end, yes.”
“I’ll help.”
“Help?”
“Yes. I think I’ve finally found a place to use my power properly.”
Meril’s violet eyes gleamed dangerously.
The High Priest hesitated. Power enhanced by absorbing forbidden magic stones—he was curious about its potential.
“But I have one condition. The Emperor—that man—must be left alive and given to me.”
“…And the Empress?”
“I’ll kill her,” Meril said softly. “I’ll do it myself.”
