“Ignis Ducal Family…”
Retina whispered a name she had heard sometime before. A family with silver hair like the royal family, descendants blessed by the goddess. They were the unfortunate war heroes from the family, missing and not even found dead during the war.
Retina clenched her sweaty hands nervously. Ignis Ducal Family. The truth she had sought to know, which felt like a heavy burden on her chest, was now in her grasp.
Since she began to suspect that she might have inherited the blood of the North after seeing Norden, the shock at her debut wasn’t as great. She had simply assumed that her silver hair, like many born in Rudenheim, might have a similar reason, extending beyond just the royal family and appearing occasionally in children with no relation to royalty.
“However, Ducal Family.”
Retina wiped her hands, damp from sweat, on her dress. No one could have foreseen that the disappeared hero from the north was carrying the bloodline of the enemy. Yet all the evidence—the North, silver hair, being a foreigner, and the pendant, pointed to her being their descendant.
“Where did you get this pendant? Did the Duke purchase it at an auction? Or, are they still alive?”
Retina lifted her head, following Norden, who had risen abruptly, gripping the table. Norden earnestly pleaded with Retina, who nonchalantly responded even after hearing the name of the Ignis family. If she knew who sold this pendant, he needed to find them here.
“I didn’t purchase it at an auction.”
However, the answer from Retina was not what Norden wanted. With the tension released from Norden’s legs, he sank hesitantly onto the sofa. If it wasn’t purchased at an auction, then…
‘Is the Ignis family truly extinct?’
Norden’s head tilted. The Duke Deneuve family, who had long served the emperor’s will, was known for rapidly expanding their influence through significant contributions during the war. If it wasn’t purchased at an auction, it meant that they were keeping the Tears of the Goddess as a trophy.
If Ignis truly died during the war, they were subjected to indiscriminate cremation, and only the remaining symbol was left untouched. What significance would that hold?
‘If Lord Karsha, who has been waiting for news of Ignis more than anyone else, knew about this…’
Raglaras’s long-awaited desire, the hope to find Ignis’s descendants and rebuild, crumbled. Thinking about Karsha, who would be eagerly awaiting news of Ignis, Norden, with a desolate expression, stroked his dry face.
‘But still, I should be thankful that I found the pendant.’
“Could you give me this pendant? I’ll pay any price.”
He couldn’t just turn back after coming this far. Norden, who quickly regained his composure, told Retina that he would bring the pendant to Lord Karsha.
“That won’t do. Now that I know the significance of this, I can’t give it to you.”
“To me. No, it’s an essential item for Raglaras. Even if I give you everything you want… Can’t you reconsider?”
“No.”
Despite his persuasion, Retina firmly refused. Norden clenched his trembling hands tightly, suppressing his overwhelming emotions.
“Can I ask for the reason…?”
He spoke slowly, chewing on each word. He trusted the Retina he had come to know. He believed that there must be a reason.
But Retina remained silent. As her silence lingered, Norden’s anxiety grew. He waited for Retina’s response, pressing his trembling legs firmly.
“…”
Instead of a hasty answer, Retina slowly raised her hand toward her head. She removed a pin that adorned her hair and laid it on the table. Inserting her fingers into the inside of the loosened wig, she removed the wig that tightly enveloped her head.
Norden couldn’t take his eyes off her as he witnessed the unexpected sight. His posture froze as if he were surprised.
“It’s the only heirloom left by my mother.”
Retina’s real hair, the color matching Norden’s, was revealed outside the wig, and he couldn’t help but be astonished.
* * *
“Can I ask for the reason…?”
Norden asked why Retina couldn’t sell the pendant. Retina held the pendant, which Norden had returned to her. It was the last heirloom left by her mother in this world. How could she sell it to anyone?
“…”
Instead of an answer, Retina chose silence. Despite deciding to reveal her secret to Norden from the mansion, it wasn’t easy to let it out. She hadn’t intended to disclose it first.
Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. Then, she began removing the pins that secured her hair, placing them one by one on the table. After that, she carefully unpinned the wig that covered her head.
“It’s the only heirloom left by my mother.”
As she ran her fingers into her hair, the wig slid off smoothly. Retina let the wig, which she had worn to conceal her identity, fall onto her lap. When her real brown hair, previously hidden by the wig, cascaded down to her chest, Retina took a deep breath.
“My mother’s mother, and her mother before her, left it for my children.”
It was now revealed that she was the last survivor of the Ignis family that had disappeared. Retina lifted her head and looked straight at Norden. She couldn’t give her mother’s only trace to anyone. Watching Norden’s changing expression, she conveyed her decision with certainty.
“Uh, right now, your hair is… I mean…”
Norden stumbled over his words in shock. He thought he knew Retina well, at least to some extent. She was the one who first complimented his hair in the empire, and he never imagined that she, too, had silver hair like him. The impact of realizing that Retina, whom he considered to know fairly well, had the same silver hair as him, someone who had been told that his hair was a curse in the empire, didn’t easily subside.
“As you know, Your Highness, silver hair signifies a curse in the empire. So, I had to live my entire life concealing my lineage.”
Retina began her lengthy tale, recounting the fate of those born with silver hair in Rudenheim and the struggles of her mother, who never learned how to hide her hair and had to wander the streets after losing her parents. She shared the story of her own life, living in hiding.
“The curse was an absurd tale. It claimed that those with silver hair, and even those around them, would all be doomed. What power did we have? It was the judgmental gazes and attitudes of those around us that destroyed the lives of people with silver hair.”
Her mother didn’t hide her identity. Retina’s grandmother was described as someone who took pride in her lineage. Despite the persecution of being considered cursed, she stood tall and walked confidently.
However, that year, when a plague swept through the village, she became a target of the townspeople. The reason for the outbreak of the plague in the village was attributed to her grandmother’s silver hair. The epidemic that spread throughout Rudenheim revived the witch hunts that had gradually subsided after the war.
“It wasn’t until later that I learned many people died that year. My mother never told me anything except for my grandmother’s death.”
She was simply told to hide her hair from others. Even at home, despite not wearing a wig, she was always advised to wear one when going outside. Her mother, who rarely took off her hat in public, never explained why but insisted on it. As a child, she thought it was just a natural thing to do and followed her mother’s instructions. As she grew older, she started wearing a wig on her own, understanding the negative attention silver hair attracted.
“Did such a thing happen in Rudenheim?”
Norden’s voice was caught in his throat, his breath halted. Innocent people sacrificed just because they had silver hair. Even though this story was from a few decades before his birth, as a descendant of Raglaras, it was a difficult history to accept.
“After that, witch hunts were officially prohibited by imperial law. But the negative sentiments linger. People with silver hair no longer walk freely, exposing it.”
Lifting her silver hair, Retina spoke. She, too, had tried to live her life hiding her secret in a remote village with a sparse population. However, her father’s summons brought her to the capital, where she encountered Norden. She saw him confidently revealing his silver hair in social gatherings despite having it.
“However, to think that silver hair is not a curse but a blessing from the goddess… When I first saw you, Prince, I was shaken at the thought that I might be from the North.”
It was a feeling of having the stigma of a curse lifted and her true identity acknowledged. She had often contemplated whether she should go there, where she wouldn’t need to hide, or stay in the capital. The dilemma was whether she could abandon everything in the empire and go there.
The Duchess’s words about facing her problems sooner or later had proven true. If her wig were to be forcibly removed in front of a crowd, there would surely be people willing to help her. However, by doing so, they might also face persecution in high society, much like she did.
Even if they were under the protection of others, would there be a real change in their lives? She was just a weakness that could drag down the precious people around her.
“If that’s the case, to ensure that my secret doesn’t become a vulnerability and that no one can touch me, I must take matters into my own hands.”
