Chapter 60
The Empress frowned slightly as she replied.
“Duke Klimt has an upright, uncompromising nature. He’s not the type to side with anyone. You know how hard I tried to win him over and tie him to Setrin.”
“That’s true. Until now, that’s been the case. Your Majesty is correct.”
Gerard, who had been nodding in agreement, suddenly narrowed his eyes and began to press his own argument.
“However, Your Majesty—did you not find something strange in the latest reports? A duke who never lets anyone close and only concerns himself with his own affairs did not draw a line with the Seventh Princess. On the contrary, he traveled in the same carriage as her, and I hear he was with the princess during the bandit incident.”
“His temperament hasn’t changed overnight. He’s practically pathological in his inability to tolerate injustice, immorality, or illegality. It’s possible he merely joined under the pretext of suppressing bandits.”
“But think about it. Aside from the duke, who else in the relief corps has the strength to stand against the Black Lion Corps?”
At Gerard’s pointed remark, the Empress’s expression darkened.
“Hmm…”
“I’ve considered it hypothetically. Do you believe the young Seventh Princess captured six seasoned veterans on her own? Or Count Sester? That cowardly old man is probably still hiding under his blankets, keeping his mouth shut.”
“Could there be another figure beside the girl—someone we don’t know about?”
“If that were the case, Annie would have sent word long ago.”
“Come to think of it… could Annie have been caught as well?”
“It hasn’t been confirmed yet. The one in charge of handling Annie’s letters has also gone silent. The Black Lion Corps has dispatched new agents, so we should receive an accurate report in a few days.”
“Hmm. She was a useful child.”
“According to Annie’s last letter, the duke stayed right by the Seventh Princess’s side, personally nursing her until she fully recovered.”
Gerard narrowed his eyes and spoke with emphasis, driving home his conclusion.
“At this point, we must proceed under the assumption that House Klimt has sided with the Seventh Princess!”
The Empress, her thoughts tangled, replied with a sigh.
“If your assumption is correct, Sir Gerard, this is extremely troublesome. The ducal house has always remained neutral—that’s why we refrained from touching it.”
House Klimt, one of the founding families of the empire, had for generations stood as a massive pillar supporting the Henten Empire.
As a result, it held influence and public trust rivaling that of the imperial family—sometimes even surpassing it.
There was only one reason the imperial family neither restrained nor pressured the house.
They were called “the Empire’s Final Standard,” always following the middle path, placing law and ethics above personal gain, and maintaining proper courtesy and loyalty toward the imperial bloodline.
But if the prestige and power of House Klimt were to flow toward Seventh Princess Raphaella, the position the Empress and Setrin had painstakingly built would be put at risk.
“It seems things are becoming troublesome. Shall I lend you a hand?”
At the sudden intrusion of an unfamiliar voice, Gerard leapt to his feet.
“Wh—who’s there?!”
A statue decorating one wall of the audience chamber slid aside, revealing a hidden passage behind it.
The Empress, already knowing the owner of the voice, replied calmly.
“I’ve been waiting. High Priest.”
The one who emerged from the passage was a priest clad in pure white. The golden emblem on his chest and the veil covering his head marked him as a high-ranking cleric. In the candlelit chamber, he alone radiated a sacred glow.
With a light gesture, the Empress calmed the wary Gerard and personally guided the priest to a seat.
She briefly summarized the recent events and what she had just heard from Gerard.
“Even with Your Grace’s help before, things haven’t gone well. As Empress, I find it terribly embarrassing.”
“How could that possibly be Your Majesty’s fault? All things in this world are intertwined and tangled.”
“This time as well, I need your insight.”
The priest smiled gently and gave an answer as if it were quite simple.
“Ha ha. When the relief corps returns, Your Majesty need only extend the warmest possible welcome to the Seventh Princess.”
“What?”
Caught off guard, the Empress asked again in surprise. Gerard, who had been watching suspiciously, also stared at the priest in disbelief.
The priest then began explaining calmly. As their whispered conversation continued, a faint smile slowly returned to the Empress’s lips.
Gerard, however, continued to watch the priest closely. The priest, as if pleased by Gerard’s reaction, smiled back.
Though hidden behind a veil, Gerard could somehow sense a cruel edge lurking within that smile.
The Empress dismissed Gerard before the priest, and Gerard had no choice but to leave with an uneasy feeling.
“Damn it. I finally found leverage against Duke Klimt—this was supposed to be the moment I became Her Majesty’s right hand! Where the hell did that priest come from?”
Grumbling in frustration, Gerard wrapped himself in his robe and headed home. The moment he entered his bedroom, he froze and collapsed in shock.
Someone was sitting on his bed—where it should have been empty.
“Hello.”
A tall man clad entirely in black, his face hidden behind a mask, sat casually on the bed with his legs crossed and greeted him.
“Wh—who…!”
Gerard stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the tiny symbol etched on the man’s forehead.
The mark of the Black Lion Corps’ master.
Though Gerard had dealt with the Black Lion Corps for years, he had never once seen its master. No matter how major the client—even a princess—the man had never shown his face. He always collected his intermediary fees, though.
“W-why are you… here…?”
He had never imagined meeting the Black Lion Corps’ master like this.
For a moment, Gerard wondered if even he—a regular client—had become a target. His face drained of color, his legs trembled, and cold sweat poured down.
Seeing this, the masked man chuckled.
He stepped down from the bed and strode toward Gerard, bending down to meet his gaze.
“H-hhk…”
When Gerard saw the blood-red eyes shining through the black mask, terror seized him and his breathing quickened.
The man smiled gently and spoke in a soft voice.
“Things seem to be getting troublesome. Shall I lend you a hand?”
“!!!”
Recognizing the familiar voice, Gerard clapped his hands over his mouth. It was the same high priest he had just seen in the Empress’s audience chamber.
“That’s right. You catch on quickly.”
The Black Lion Corps’ master smiled, clearly pleased that Gerard had realized his identity.
“There’s something you need to do for me.”
Gerard could do nothing but nod.
The man casually patted his head, then continued, releasing a dark, sticky killing intent.
“Prepare sacrifices. About… one thousand.”
Gerard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, but the man remained calm.
“With my people helping, it won’t be difficult. Just erase a few villages. Simple, right?”
Gerard saw a crimson aura rising like heat haze from the man’s body—the priest, no… an unidentifiable being.
And he understood. This was not a human.
If he refused, he would die like an ant.
There had never been a choice to begin with. Gerard bowed his head in obedience.
Raphaella finally opened her eyes late in the morning, just before the sun reached its peak.
Annie had tried tempting her awake since early morning with all sorts of delicious food, but Raphaella—completely drained from the previous day—had won the battle of appetite versus sleep.
“Master! Master!”
As Raphaella lazily stretched beneath the blankets, Perry—who had already been awake—fluttered over, chattering excitedly.
“Perry had a really, really fun dream!”
“You finally wake up after days, and the first thing you talk about is a dream? You slept so much I was about to call your dad if you didn’t wake up today.”
“Eek! Not Dad!”
“No matter how much you like sleeping, you slept way too much. Do you know how worried I was that you might be sick?”
Perry squealed and threw herself into Raphaella’s arms, rubbing her cheek against hers in apology.
“It was too fun—I couldn’t wake up. Perry’s sorry!”
“Tsk.”
Raphaella poked Perry’s forehead with her finger. Perry rubbed it with both hands, grinning all the while.
“So, what was the dream?”
“Oh! Perry flew all over the world! Everywhere I passed, sick humans got better and cheered! They even made a statue of Perry and put it in the plaza! And every day they gave me endless sweet treats!”
Raphaella muttered with a strange expression.
“What the… That fortune cookie was actually right.”
“It was! That cookie was really amazing! Oh—come to think of it, what did yours say, Master?”
