Chapter : 161 We Are Humans, Not Flowers (12)
Because Marquis Duha had confessed to all his crimes, the backlash fell on those who had been cooperating with him. Most of them were closely tied to the assassination attempt on the royal family, and they willingly turned against each other to survive. While this near-complete purge was underway, Ilyas remained unhurried, occasionally checking only to make sure the Marquis was unharmed.
“The work is almost done, yet Your Highness looks even more fatigued,”
Ilyas said lightly, as he entered the palace and found the Crown Prince in a troubled state. The Crown Prince smiled at the familiar face but couldn’t hide a sigh.
“Marquis Duha’s willing confession has ironically become an obstacle. Sympathy for him has arisen.”
“Ah…”
“Even though it was us who nearly died, they act as if they have the right to decide who should be forgiven or punished.”
The Crown Prince seemed more exhausted by the current situation than by the process of capturing the major aristocratic factions involved in the assassination plot, including Marquis Duha. He rubbed his brow, then lifted his gaze toward Ilyas.
“What do you think should be done, Count?”
“Personally speaking…”
Ilyas brushed the back of his neck and spoke. The Crown Prince blinked, slightly surprised at the words “personally speaking.” Ilyas noticed that this expression reminded him of a girl he knew and swallowed a quiet sigh.
“I think it would be better to let him live.”
“You think so too?”
“If you were to eliminate Marquis Duha outright, the officials would be terrified… but I believe fear is like candy. Sweet and effective for a time, but it cannot be sustained.”
“Sometimes that might be okay, wouldn’t it?”
“That could also be one way to see it. But my true personal reason… the Marquis seems eager to die. I feel it would be wrong to make it easy for him.”
“I am truly curious what you did when you met Marquis Duha alone that morning,”
The Crown Prince said, looking at Ilyas with a desire to hear the story. Ilyas pondered for a moment, then lowered his eyes. I didn’t plan on rising so quickly, he murmured. When he looked up again, the Crown Prince was still waiting for him to speak.
Since the ruler had shown trust, allowing him to act freely without questions, it was now his turn to reveal where that trust had been used.
“Marquis Duha had a sister. Are you aware of that?”
“Ah… yes, I’ve heard she was extraordinarily talented. Her early death caused quite a stir, though I was too young to remember it clearly.”
Ilyas spoke simply.
“In fact… I am the son of that sister.”
“…What?”
“Marquis Duha killed my mother to ascend to his current title. My mother, knowing her younger brother had such intentions, fled outside the imperial capital, hoping to avoid conflict… but it was of little use. Still, I was born without the Marquis knowing.”
He added that he would like, if possible, to inherit that title or take charge of the family. The Crown Prince, however, looked taken aback by this revelation.
Ilyas brushed his neck again. What he was about to reveal was deeply personal, but without it, he couldn’t explain the current state of Marquis Duha.
“Apparently, the reason he killed my mother was betrayal. He expected that after my sister became the Marquis, married well, and eventually passed the title to him… instead, she married a commoner of unknown origin… and then had a child. My sister was supposed to be infertile.”
“Ah… yes, I recall that story. The eldest daughter cannot bear a child. The next Marquis would naturally be the younger brother. So Marquis Duha inherited the title without incident…”
If the title was going to be passed to him anyway, why risk murdering his sister? Although the greatest beneficiary of Karam Azel Duha’s death was Marquis Duha, no one suspected murder because he would have eventually received the title in due time.
“He killed his sister out of that sense of betrayal, so one can imagine how blindly violent he was normally. That eventually escalated to the point where he tried to kill both of Your Highnesses as well.”
“…It feels like the topic suddenly shifted drastically.”
“My father was of fairy mixed blood. Marquis Duha likely saw that heritage as the root of all evil. Because of that, my sister had a child, and he killed her, whom he held so dear. And those around him—he knew exactly who was of fairy blood…”
Ilyas’ gaze naturally shifted to the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince’s expression stiffened.
“You’re saying it’s because my mother and Tairun’s mother were of fairy blood?”
“Precisely. That is why Your Highness was never targeted.”
“…Not for political reasons, but merely because of our bloodline…”
“To Marquis Duha, it was far from trivial. Well… I informed him that his sense of betrayal was misguided.”
Even though the child existed, he thought the title, which was meant for her, should be passed to him instead—and earlier than expected. This wasn’t just hearsay or testimony but recorded in her diary, in her own handwriting, seen directly by the Marquis.
After twenty years living atop a tower built from hatred, he realized the tower had actually been erected on sand.
“That is why I hope Marquis Duha lives a long life. We cannot undo death, can we?”
Returning to his office after a long time, Ilyas lay on the sofa and realized he had briefly fallen asleep. His drowsy consciousness felt as if it had been pulled up from hell. The accumulated fatigue was such that even a short nap made him feel somewhat revived. Covering his eyes with the back of his hand, Ilyas paused.
He turned his gaze to the side. The table in front of the office sofa, which should have been visible through his fingers, was gone. Instead, he saw something else: black fabric. Lace. Lower down, shoes appeared in view. Higher up, nothing could be seen—his hand blocked it.
“…Peyrun?”
“Ah. You’re awake, Ilyas?”
Even the afternoon sunlight seemed to make his eyes protest. Ilyas rose, shielding his eyes. Fernsiana sat quietly on a small stool in front of the sofa, smiling at him.
“How…?”
“I came because the big task was finished. I wanted to congratulate you, but you were asleep.”
She smiled, saying she had waited for him to wake. Ilyas’ eyes ached too much to look at her directly.
He had no idea how she ended up here at this moment. He felt some disillusionment at having decided to watch his target suffer until death, felt relief that it was over, and now, at this very moment, she was here just for him.
“You were very tired. It was very hard, wasn’t it?”
She opened her arms. Ilyas, almost entranced, embraced her. Fernsiana seemed to exude a sweet floral scent.
“You smell… nice.”
“Ah, I made tea leaves while in the palace. Maybe that’s it?”
The girl giggled. Ilyas responded with a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. She laid out the things she had brought to celebrate. The table was filled with dishes she had practiced and made at the palace.
“How could someone who can’t even hold a knife cook all this?”
“Tairun used the knife.”
“I feel like I’m going to choke.”
“When did I ever say you were Princess Mama?”
The girl laughed again. Ilyas realized it had been a long time since he had heard someone laugh so freely—someone he loved. He thought he would like to hear it every day if possible.
Fernsiana handed him a wooden spoon and fork. Likely, someone named Terrensiana had prepared these with care. As Ilyas extended his first spoonful toward the dishes—carefully noting that Tairun had only used the knife—Fernsiana suddenly turned her head toward the door.
“Peyrun?”
“Someone seemed to be running… or maybe not?”
The girl tilted her head. Ilyas, staring at her blankly, suddenly remembered something. He leapt from his seat and ran quickly toward the office library. Fernsiana followed. By the time Ilyas reached the mailbox in front of the library, a bell rang in the distance—signaling incoming mail. He had arrived before the bell sounded.
Ilyas hurriedly opened the mailbox. Inside was a hastily scribbled note, torn from a sheet of paper:
“Trophy attempted suicide, critical condition.”
Ilyas and Fernsiana exchanged a glance. Neither touched the feast before them and immediately rushed back toward the palace.
