Chapter 134. A Step Forward (1) [134]
It is said that the Duke of Duha and his cousin stood at completely opposite extremes. The Duke of Duha was an avid reader and achieved great success as a man of letters, while his cousin distinguished himself more as a warrior, even serving as commander of the knights. In their youth, they even competed over who would inherit the title of Duke. At the same time, it is said that there was someone both of them had secretly held affection for…
From “Dangerous Scandals of the High Nobility,” Chapter 7: The Story of the Duha Ducal Family
The Red Cherlian Palace was always quiet, with very few people around. Lately, the only disturbances were the visits of Prince Terensiana, who came to see his grandfather once every three or four days.
Pierre, the steward who had long served the Einhenar family, welcomed these visits. The palace had been quiet for so long, and his relationship with his relatives had never been particularly warm.
His only son had never been close to the current emperor, more a matter of ruler and heir than father and son. Even after retiring from the throne, little had changed except for the nameplate. That coldness extended to his grandson as well. Until now, the only visitors to this small, isolated part of the palace had been the Feophan knights, who were practically extensions of the duke himself.
Even after the first grandson was born, it took twenty years before the family began to visit. How could such a thing not be welcome, even if the grandson had other intentions?
“By the way…”
Today, too, after giving his grandfather a perfunctory greeting, Prince Terensiana glanced around the empty halls with a shuffling, out-of-place step and spoke to Pierre. Pierre, who had been about to escort the prince, slightly bowed to show he was listening.
“I haven’t seen that child lately.”
For a moment, Pierre hesitated, not immediately realizing who Terensiana meant by “that child.” Seeing Pierre’s reaction, Terensiana merely scratched the back of his neck, unfazed.
“You mean… the one with blue hair…”
“Ah, if you mean Ishiel Corneille… she has gone outside the palace for a short while.”
“How long has it been since she was last seen?”
“She left about a week ago.”
Terensiana frowned, clearly displeased, but slowly relaxed.
“I see. When will she return?”
“She is scheduled to come back in two days.”
“Two days? That’s…”
Terensiana let out a small sigh. That would be just one day before the combined training of the three knight orders began.
Although “combined training of the three knight orders” might sound like just another practice, it was in fact the largest and most intense annual event for the three orders. In other words, it was not a day the royal family could take lightly. As the knights became busy preparing, the royals were expected to remain present with equivalent focus.
“I see.”
Pierre bowed, as if asking whether he should send a summons. Terensiana shook his head.
“No. Don’t.”
Pierre did not respond further. Terensiana turned his back to the Red Cherlian Palace and shuffled along, scratching his cheek.
“Why leave the palace for over a week…”
He did not come all this way merely to see his grandfather—a person he had never cared for and would have been content if they simply threw plates at each other. With his shoulders slumped, Terensiana wandered the palace alone, without an accompanying attendant, until he habitually made his way to Widred Hall.
Many were loyal to the royal family, willing to spill blood to protect the royals. But among them, none truly asked for nothing in return. Even if only to be remembered by name.
‘By the way… her name is Ishiel Corneille.’
It was somewhat surprising to him that he had rushed to his grandfather for her and still did not even know her name properly.
Scratching his cheek, Terensiana entered the empty Widred Hall. The dimly shaded room had never seen direct sunlight, to prevent the portrait of Empress Arhid from discoloring.
He looked up at the portrait of the woman said to be his birth mother with an indifferent expression. Though beautiful, her face reminded him so much of his own reflection that he felt no particular emotion.
Contrary to what others might think, the reason he visited Widred Hall daily was not to see the face of the mother who supposedly died when he was born, but because here, no one interrupted him or tried to talk to him.
Sitting with a languid posture before the portrait, Terensiana thought about the peculiar palace attendant.
He was not surprised that she had found him on the day of the assassination attempt. It was hardly a secret that he frequented Widred Hall. He appreciated her risking her life to protect him, but that alone was not extraordinary.
What was surprising was that, until now, he did not even know her name. And that he now knew it, he found remarkable—not only for himself, but for her, who had not even tried to tell him.
‘All I knew was that she was my palace attendant and what she looked like.’
Blue hair, not very tall, hands always covered with small scratches. Occasionally, she would widen her golden eyes and look at him with expressions he could not understand.
At that thought, Terensiana stiffened.
‘Blue… hair.’
His head turned slowly. His gaze shifted to the portrait of his mother, who had looked down at him all this time. In the painting, she smiled gently and warmly.
Had he ever seen blue hair elsewhere? Absolutely not. Though he sometimes wore wigs with blue hair when moving about outside the palace, no one had hair similar to his own. For him, there had always been only one person with blue hair.
‘Blue hair and gold…’
Terensiana’s hand traced his own face. When his fingertips passed over his eyes, he suddenly jumped to his feet.
“Mirror! Mirror!”
Sara, who had been absent since midday, blinked when she saw Terensiana suddenly appear, bending slightly in greeting. The prince was panting and calling for a mirror, catching her completely off guard.
She quickly brought a clean mirror. Terensiana sat in a chair, holding it in his hands, absorbed in admiring his reflection. The palace staff exchanged glances, but none of them knew the reason.
‘He is… beautiful.’
Indeed, he had every reason to admire his reflection, Sara thought, before quickly suppressing the thought.
But everyone likely felt the same. The features inherited from his mother, said to have been a legendary beauty, were captivating even in monochrome, and combined with his obsidian-black hair and golden eyes—like gold poured into the sea—they exuded an almost hypnotic charm.
“Huh…”
Terensiana continued to admire his reflection, muttering in a tone close to awe.
“You…”
Suddenly, he turned toward Sara, who had been admiring him from the side, gesturing. She quickly regained her composure and bowed.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Do you remember? The palace attendant recently assigned to His Excellency, the former emperor?”
“Yes… Ishiel…”
“How old is she?”
Since Sara had never known much, she quickly recalled the vague details from memory.
“She… will soon be seventeen…”
“Do you know her birthday?”
“Not exactly… I can find out.”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t bother.”
Terensiana shook his head, dismissing her. Sara and the other attendants quietly stepped aside. Terensiana turned his gaze back to the mirror. The most familiar face in the world stared back at him, golden eyes darting here and there.
‘No one in my family has golden eyes besides us.’
It was natural he had never seen them before—they were practically a royal symbol. Yet here was a girl with those eyes, and despite seeing her clearly, he had thought nothing of it. Now, almost seventeen, the same age as him, with blue hair like his mother’s and golden eyes proving her royal blood, working in the palace as an attendant without anyone noticing—it was an impossibility.
‘Seventeen… seventeen.’
Terensiana thought he finally understood the source of the strange dissonance he had felt when he first saw her. Now, all that remained was to confirm his suspicions.
