(4) Like an Ominous Spell (4)
Seeing that Eleanor remained silent, Cecily hesitated for a moment before composing herself and asking,
“W-Would you like to have your meal first, or would you prefer to bathe?”
Eleanor glanced down at herself.
Her clothes were crumpled, tattered, and filthy. Just a ragged hood and pants, stained with dried blood from the battlefield. She hadn’t had a chance to change since leaving the war.
She hadn’t looked in a mirror, but she doubted her face looked any better than her clothes.
Still, food came first.
She hadn’t eaten for days, though oddly, she didn’t feel hunger.
Even so, she had to eat. She needed to keep her mind sharp to face the battles ahead.
“I’ll eat first.”
“Understood. I’ll have it brought in shortly.”
As Cecily had promised, the meal was served swiftly.
The food laid out in Tulip Palace’s dining hall was not extravagant, but it was carefully prepared.
Once Cecily left, Eleanor drew the silver dagger she always carried and dipped it into the soup before her.
She waited.
The color did not change.
Only then did she pick up the spoon and take a bite.
It was probably rich and flavorful.
But Eleanor tasted nothing.
She simply forced it down—eating only to survive.
***
Having attended to the guest of Tulip Palace, Cecily seized her chance and made her way to Rose Palace.
Rose Palace belonged to Calliope Rhiannon, the Emperor’s second consort.
“Lady Calliope, a woman has entered Tulip Palace.”
Calliope, who had been keeping a keen eye on the palace since the third empress’s death, immediately sharpened her gaze.
“Who is she? Which noble house does she belong to?”
Cecily bowed her head.
“Well… she didn’t tell me.”
“You should have pressed her!”
“Of course I asked. But she refused to answer.”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
Calliope bit her thumb lightly, lost in thought, before issuing her order.
“Watch her every move. Find out what she does, who she meets, and how often His Majesty visits her chambers. Report everything to me.”
***
Duke Oscar Taylor, the imperial advisor, widened his eyes in shock upon hearing about Eleanor from Heraith.
It was surprising enough that the Lady of House Snow had come here, but for her to openly declare she wished to become the empress?
“Does she not value her own life?”
Heraith stared at him with a steady glare. Oscar raised his hands slightly in surrender.
“Yes, yes, I know. Not all of them were killed by Your Majesty’s hand. But still, the people believe that you slaughtered your empresses in a fit of madness. She must not know the truth…what kind of fool walks willingly into the lion’s den?”
“She seems to know.”
“What?”
“She knew I lured the enemy away to minimize civilian casualties.”
“How would she…? She wasn’t even on that battlefield!”
“She’s clever. Which is why I cannot trust her.”
“Just as you don’t fully trust me?”
Heraith tilted his head slightly but did not deny it.
Oscar, having been friends with him since childhood, felt a sting of disappointment.
But he understood. Heraith lived under constant threat, mistrust was his only means of survival.
“Still, Your Majesty, sending the Black Knights and Adrian to the North? Was that truly necessary?”
The Black Knights were the most elite of the four knightly orders under the emperor’s command.
Adrian was Heraith’s personal guard.
“I must at least show that much consideration for my future empress. And if they discover anything suspicious in the North, they may as well wipe it all out while they’re there.”
At that moment, Oscar understood.
Heraith did not trust Eleanor’s words in the slightest.
“And if everything Lady Snow said turns out to be true? Will you truly take her as your empress?”
Heraith recalled the way Eleanor had faced his oppressive aura without flinching, sitting upright, unshaken.
Her true strength was unknown to him, but her will was firm.
The only question was: Where did her loyalty lie?
With him? With Rascal?
Or was her sole focus on the traitors, Owen and Osborn?
He couldn’t tell.
And that was why he needed to keep her close.
“If, even then, she still wishes to take that seat—then yes.”
***
When Adrian Teris, the Azure Knight, and the Emperor’s elite Black Knights arrived in the North, House Snow had already lost half of its territory to the enemy.
Each time they were forced to retreat, the walls crumbled.
The people of the land abandoned their homes, moving further and further inward alongside the soldiers.
Owen and Osborn’s forces fought without regard for their lives.
So did Snow’s troops.
For days on end, the sky was filled with arrows and magic, the air ringing with the clash of weapons.
Then, a blue sword aura split the sky…
And in an instant, the battlefield fell silent.
There were few in the world who could wield such power.
“Hear me!”
A man atop a white horse raised his sword high and shouted,
“By the Emperor’s decree!”
At those unexpected words, the soldiers lowered their swords and knelt.
“Lords of the North, return to your lands and do your utmost to govern your domains!”
Only the soldiers knelt.
The lords remained on horseback.
From the rear, Duke Owen spurred his horse forward, cutting through his troops to the front.
“What is the meaning of this?! Since when does His Majesty interfere in northern affairs?!”
“Does an imperial command require an explanation?”
“His Majesty has never involved himself in land wars this far from the capital!”
Adrian’s lips curled into a smirk.
“It seems he wishes to, now. Lower your sword and turn your horse. Or—”
The blue aura around Adrian’s blade deepened.
“Would you rather face us with Snow at our back?”
To stand against them with Snow at their back…
A clear declaration that the Emperor had chosen a side.
Owen and Osborn’s faces twisted in rage.
They had fought so hard, only to be forced to abandon it all now.
But they had no choice.
They had suffered heavy losses in this war.
And if the Azure Knight and the Black Knights stood against them now, they had no hope of winning.
Adrian’s green eyes gleamed with silent warning.
A signal that he would tolerate no further defiance.
When Owen and Osborn hesitated to turn back, the killing intent in Adrian’s gaze grew sharper.
“**** it!”
Duke Owen turned his horse around and shouted,
“We return to our lands!”
Adrian watched as Owen and Osborn’s troops retreated, waiting until they were nothing more than dust on the horizon before turning away.
Snow’s soldiers were scattered across the field, some barely standing.
At the front of them all stood a young man, his silver hair, tied back, reaching his shoulders.
His blue eyes and delicate features made him seem almost too beautiful to belong on a battlefield.
Looking down at him, Adrian asked,
“Where is Count Snow?”
The silver-haired man, his eyes bloodshot, lifted his gaze.
“I am Havelion Snow. From this moment on, I am Count Snow.”
***
Count Jayden Snow had fought valiantly.
Never once retreating, always at the front of the battle.
And so, he died.
“Had he commanded from the rear, leaving the fight to his soldiers, he might have lived.”
As she received the news of House Snow’s fate, Eleanor’s expression remained unchanged.
“He was never one to stay in the rear.”
Though her bloodshot eyes hinted at held-back tears, she did not weep.
“Thank you for your aid, Your Majesty.”
“Owen and Osborn will not stop here. They will wait for their chance to strike at Snow again. Can House Snow endure, now that it has lost its warrior lord?”
“My second brother, Count Havelion Snow, will not lose.”
Eleanor clenched her skirt, then let go, her voice flat as she asked,
“My mother and younger brother… are they safe?”
“They are alive.”
“That is enough.”
“How do you find life in the palace?”
“Thanks to Your Majesty’s generosity, I am most comfortable and at ease.”
It’s a lie.
She had not stepped foot outside Tulip Palace.
She had even refused to tell her assigned maid her name, leaving the entire court in the dark about the woman residing there.
A wise choice.
Had Heraith been in her position, he would have done the same.
“Do you still wish to be the empress?”
