127.

“When Nyx partially broke its own seal yesterday, it said it needed to kill McFoy.”

Chloe added, “Because McFoy is a thief,” and watched as Norma rose to his feet as if possessed. At the same time, Nicholas’s brow furrowed deeply, his response sharp and immediate.

“Did the High Priest hear it?”

“Yes, Lord Diazi,” Chloe replied hesitantly.

“I couldn’t discern the true meaning of those words, but… the High Priest’s reaction was strange. It almost seemed as if he was… pleased.”

That response made Nicholas stand abruptly as well. Watching both brothers react with such intensity, Chloe became certain she had come to the right place. With urgency, she pressed on.

“I sent a letter to Lady McFoy immediately, but I feared waiting for a reply might be too late, so I came to find you. What should we do?”

“I need to see the High Priest.”

Norma murmured, already moving toward the door.

At that moment, a knight burst in, his expression grim. Norma froze in place, dread tightening in his chest.

“Lord Diazi, a letter has arrived from Sir Mark Bains. He reports that they lost Princess Merke.”

The knight detailed Mark’s injuries and Merke’s escape. Nicholas, realizing the gravity of the situation, instinctively turned to his brother.

Norma was staring downward. Following his gaze, Nicholas saw Antoinette, the baby beast, tugging urgently at the hem of his robe.

It wasn’t a simple gesture of resistance. The tiny creature was frantically pulling him in a specific direction. Norma, entranced, shifted his focus to where Antoinette was directing him.

“Nicholas,” he said softly, his eyes fixed westward.

“I need to return to McFoy.”

Leaving Nicholas with the task of dealing with the High Priest, Norma set off at once toward McFoy territory.

* * *

Meanwhile

Following his outburst at breakfast the day before, Billinent had locked himself in his chambers and refused to come out. A servant, desperate enough to knock, was met with the prince’s furious threat to kill anyone who entered.

The priests assisting him with his prayers were at a loss. In the end, they turned to Adrienne for help. Having been particularly irritable since her son’s disgraceful behavior, Adrienne found their appeal to be a last resort.

“The Crown Prince hasn’t left his room since yesterday?”

Her anger toward her son hadn’t entirely subsided, but her heart sank at the news. With only two days left until the coming-of-age ceremony, she couldn’t ignore the warnings Hailot had given.

“And you’re only telling me this now?!”

Her voice was sharp as a blade as she slapped the maid who delivered the message. Though the maid was blameless, she wisely prostrated herself at Adrienne’s feet.

Adrienne, seething, turned to look out the window. The sun had dipped low, and her delicate brow furrowed deeply.

Baghdad’s days were short. The High Priest had warned against unnecessary activity after sundown, so if she wanted to appease her son, she needed to move quickly.

After hastily adorning herself, Adrienne made her way toward Billinent’s quarters. Unfortunately, his residence was on the opposite end of the palace, as dictated by Mehra’s decree that men’s and women’s quarters be in entirely separate buildings.

As Adrienne crossed the long courtyard leading to the Crown Prince’s residence, she noticed a figure in the path ahead—a priest in High Priest robes, standing ominously still in the center of the walkway.

The deep hood pulled over his face made him immediately suspicious. Adrienne’s imperial guards stepped forward, weapons drawn, forming a protective barrier.

Adrienne was about to berate the fool who dared block her way, but the figure lowered his hood before she could speak.

The guards parted cautiously, revealing the face beneath. Adrienne’s expression twisted into a mask of horror.

“It’s been a while, Your Majesty. Or should I say… Mother.”

It was Merke, the princess who had left the palace over a decade ago. Though time had left its mark, Adrienne couldn’t mistake the woman before her. She barely restrained a scream.

“Princess Merke! What are you all standing there for? Show respect to the princess!”

Adrienne’s mastery of composure allowed her to suppress her shock. Instead, she put on a mask of joy, as though she were delighted to see her long-absent stepdaughter.

The guards stepped aside, and Adrienne approached Merke slowly, hiding the trembling in her legs.

“How have you been?” she asked, forcing warmth into her voice.

Though she wanted nothing more than to grab Merke by the collar and demand to know why she was here, Adrienne didn’t rush. With the coming-of-age ceremony only two days away and Nyx lurking, she couldn’t afford any disruptions.

Standing face-to-face, Adrienne grasped Merke’s hands with feigned affection, doing her best to appear harmless.

Merke glanced at their joined hands and muttered expressionlessly, “I’ve been to Hugo Temple. I arrived here yesterday.”

“…Yesterday? I see. I thought you were traveling among the southern islands.”

Adrienne bit back her shock. Her spies had been tailing a decoy Merke had left behind. She hadn’t suspected that the princess had been moving freely.

“I suppose you’re aware,” Merke continued, “that the Hugo Temple has a secondary archive, built to safeguard records in case the main archive is ever damaged.”

Adrienne’s stomach turned. The archives of the High Temple stored critical records, from chronicles to scriptures, and distributed them across locations to ensure their preservation. Hugo was one such location.

“I found Calliphe’s weekend prayer journal,” Merke whispered.

“…I see.”

Adrienne’s fingers tightened instinctively. The mere mention of the journal sent a wave of dread through her.

“All the priests who oversaw her prayers in the spring of her death—every name was erased,” Merke said.

“Those names are forbidden. Let it go, Princess. You risk angering His Majesty.”

Adrienne’s warning was delivered in a soft, almost concerned tone, her voice a masterclass in disarming manipulation. But beneath her composed exterior, her mind raced with unease.

“Why did you ask me that question back then?”

“When did I ask you anything, Princess?”

At Merke’s question, Adrienne tilted her head, genuinely unable to recall. Her puzzled expression—so convincing it seemed authentic—made Merke nod knowingly, as if she had expected as much.

“Yes. It was such a trivial matter that you wouldn’t remember. I didn’t, either.”

“What a dull story. Merke, your brother Billinent’s coming-of-age ceremony is soon. Let’s leave it at that—”

“The names of the priests who oversaw Billinent’s prayers around that time were erased too. Just before Calliphe’s assigned priest was replaced by ‘Nyx,’ for a few weeks,” Merke interjected, her tone calm but deliberate.

Adrienne, who had been smoothly transitioning the conversation, faltered for a split second at the mention of Nyx. Struggling to maintain her composure, she replied, “…Are you saying that ‘it’ oversaw Billinent’s prayers before Calliphe? What a chilling story.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t Calliphe who received ‘that damned book’ from Nyx but Billinent,” Merke said, her words dropping like stones in the air.

“Book?”

“The ancient scripture about Alfo’s power and those cursed rituals, Mother.”

Merke stepped closer, her voice a whisper, forcing Adrienne to instinctively shrink back.

“Why did you assign Nyx to Calliphe, Mother?”

“If you’re referring to the priest change at the time, yes, I recall something like that,” Adrienne replied, recovering enough to smooth over her reaction. “But that was simply because Billinent found that priest intimidating. That’s all.”

“And yet, how does someone removed from the Crown Prince’s service end up overseeing the prayers of the Crown Princess? Unless someone deliberately placed them there.”

Merke’s scoffing tone and mocking smile made Adrienne’s expression harden.

“What exactly are you implying? It was a coincidence, nothing more.”

“Then it wasn’t mere coincidence that Calliphe met Nyx. You reassigned the priest, after all.”

“Enough. You’re clearly unwell. Even if I did reassign the priest, how could anyone have known at the time that they were a heretic? Calliphe fell to her own heresy, no one else’s doing.”

Adrienne’s exterior remained calm, but internally, she was seething. *Calliphe’s death wasn’t my fault!* she screamed silently.

She had no idea Nyx was a heretic. She had merely assigned the unsettling priest to Calliphe to irritate her. How could she have predicted the catastrophic consequences?

‘Would you have refrained from assigning Nyx to Calliphe if you had known?’ whispered the last shred of her conscience.

Her pupils quivered briefly before she crushed the thought.

*What’s the point of such hypotheticals? I didn’t know!*

Grinding her teeth, Adrienne reassured herself that Calliphe’s fate was of her own making. All Adrienne had wanted was to tarnish Calliphe’s reputation, not drive her to death.

‘So how is that tragedy my fault? It was Calliphe’s greed that led to it. I merely nudged her reputation downward.’

Unbeknownst to her, Adrienne’s face betrayed her inner turmoil. Observing this, Merke took a step back, her voice unexpectedly light.

“Yes, you’re absolutely right.”

Adrienne flinched as though struck, startled by Merke’s sudden agreement.

“I wondered if the Empress had orchestrated some grand conspiracy leading to that tragedy. That’s why I visited Hugo Temple. But, to my disappointment, you didn’t do much of anything.”

“…”

“It seems like a small action of yours caused someone’s entire fate to unravel. I don’t even know who to blame anymore.”

“Princess, Calliphe’s story is unfortunate. But it’s been over a decade now. Let’s leave it—”

“But,” Merke interrupted, her gaze unfocused as though speaking to the air itself, “what if Calliphe had never met Nyx? What if she had never fallen into those curses?”

Adrienne instinctively took a step back. She felt she couldn’t continue facing Merke.

Adrienne had long been complicit in spreading rumors about Merke’s madness. Whether those rumors were true had never mattered to her.

“If I didn’t have to kill my own sister, maybe I wouldn’t feel this unbearable weight,” Merke said, her voice hollow. “You were right, Your Majesty. After that day, I truly lost my mind.”

Yet the rumors were true. Merke had indeed lost her mind. Adrienne saw it now in the emptiness of Merke’s eyes, a void so unsettling it left Adrienne’s mouth agape in shock.