Episode 107

The next day, my daughter and I arrived at the summer palace.

The palace staff, caught off guard by the sudden arrival of the Empress and the Crown Princess just before winter, were visibly startled. Their surprise only grew when they saw the endless procession of carriages trailing behind us.

“Y-Your Majesty, what… what is all that?” asked Roy, the steward of the summer palace.

“Books, Roy.”

“Books? All of that is… books? But, Your Majesty, the library at the summer palace cannot possibly hold that many books!”

“Arrange them in the largest reception hall. Shelves and additional staff will arrive soon to assist.”

Leaving Roy gaping, I entered the palace.

Behind Lothania and me, Aiden, Vitrain, and Lian—supported by Melbrid—followed us inside. We made our way to the terrace at the far end of the grand entrance hall.

Standing there, overlooking the rippling blue waters of Lake Beryl, I turned to Lothania and asked, “Are you ready, Lottie?”

“Of course, Mother. If we can’t do it your way, we’ll just drain the lake like you said. The spirit must be somewhere in there.”

“Good. If they won’t come to us, we’ll force our way in.”

Mother and daughter exchanged resolute looks.

When we left Brincia, we had brought every book in the royal library related to Barbados I, the beasts, and Lake Beryl. Back at Harriet Palace, Tito was overseeing a full review of the remaining books, with orders to send anything containing even a single line about the Luminal family or the oath to the summer palace.

Not only had we brought Lian and Melbrid, but I had also summoned scholars well-versed in the Empire’s history. Moreover, the nobles had been informed that all future state meetings would temporarily be held at the summer palace.

We had even packed up all the documents needed for governance.

Until we met the spirit of Lake Beryl and broke the oath, we would not return to Brincia.

I wouldn’t stop until my Aiden could smile happily again and Melbrid was freed from the chains of the beasts’ oath.

Once settled in, everyone threw themselves into the search for a way to summon the lake spirit.

Lothania, Melbrid, and Lian buried themselves in the reception hall, combing through books. Vitrain ventured to the nearby villages, gathering oral legends about the lake spirit.

Meanwhile, I juggled managing the nobles, who grumbled incessantly about commuting between Brincia and the summer palace, and coordinating the information gathered on both ends.

As we spent these days together, an unusual hierarchy seemed to form between Lothania, me, and the beasts.

“Duke Tilender, I’ve told you not to hover so close to Her Majesty. It makes me want to kill you,” Vitrain grumbled as he entered the reception hall at the end of his day, glaring at Aiden, who was seated close to me.

“Hold it in, Vitrain,” I replied without looking up from my book.

Vitrain, clearly frustrated, turned to Lothania for support, but she sat on my left, reading in an identical posture, paying him no attention.

Resigned, Vitrain swallowed his retort and sulked off to an empty sofa.

Lian, watching this unfold, smirked at Vitrain, likely recalling his own similar defeat an hour earlier. Aiden, on the other hand, lifted his chin triumphantly, further stoking Vitrain’s irritation.

This dynamic had become the norm recently.

Lothania was the official master of the dog, the eagle, and the snake.

Their loyalty was absolute and unconditional, yet their master’s devotion was directed at me.

In the beasts’ eyes, I wasn’t just their master’s mother—I was the master of their master.

To put it in simpler terms, I suppose I’d become something like the protector of the beasts’ protector.

Whatever the case, the three beasts now listened to me almost as well as they did to Lothania.

But that didn’t mean all problems were solved.

Since the day Aiden openly held my hand in front of Lothania, he had stopped trying to hide his affection for me.

This led to constant tension. The beasts growled endlessly, enraged that the dog loved someone more than his master.

While Lothania and I could shield him from Lian and Vitrain, Aiden’s self-directed fury only deepened with time.

As I gently leaned away from him, I said, “If it’s too hard for you, it’s okay to keep some distance, Aiden.”

“I’m not struggling,” he replied, turning a page of the book I’d been reading.

But when I looked back at him, his eyes burned intensely, betraying his words.

“Don’t lie with eyes that look ready to spit fire. You seem troubled.”

“Whether I stay near Your Majesty or not, it’s equally painful,” he admitted calmly, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Aiden no longer avoided my gaze, nor did he attempt to distance himself. Even when with Lothania and me, his attention was solely on me.

It seemed this was the only way he could keep himself from falling apart.

To hold his warm hand now took great resolve.

I could no longer embrace him or kiss him as I once did.

Even matching his beautiful smile with my own made my heart ache.

Whether I stayed by his side or moved away, I found no relief from the pain.

“Cough, cough, ugh.”

“Brother!”

Lian, who had managed to endure until the afternoon, suddenly began coughing violently.

Blood splattered across the book he held, and Melbrid’s face went pale.

“Take him to bed, Mel. I’ll send for the palace physician.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

As Melbrid moved to support him, one of the attendants assigned to Lian by Lothania stepped in, lifting him up.

The attendants, brought from Brincia solely for Lian’s care, rushed him to his quarters.

Lothania watched their retreating figures with a conflicted expression and murmured, “Love is such a difficult thing, Mother.”

Her words carried the weight of regret far beyond her fourteen years.

She set her book down and leaned her head against my shoulder.

“That man is awful, but when I think of Father, I feel like I should wish for him to suffer until he dies. Yet, when I see Mel like that, I just want the snake to get better.”

When I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, she burrowed into my embrace and whispered, so softly even Aiden couldn’t hear, “I must be a terrible daughter.”

I hugged her tightly and replied, “You’re not, Lottie. His Majesty would want you to be happy.”

Love, as Lothania said, is terribly complicated, but isn’t it ultimately about wanting the other person to be happy?

Whether Nerian was a good man or a good master, I couldn’t say. But I knew for certain he had been a good father.

If Lothania could find happiness, he would forgive Lian.

Yet, forgiveness or not, Lian’s health wouldn’t improve.

The oath not only forbade the beasts from loving anyone other than their master, but also forbade them from harboring feelings of love toward their master that weren’t rooted in loyalty.

The oath Barbados I made with his companions was nothing short of a cruel leash, ensuring that beasts remained beasts.

If Lian were to die like this, Melbrid and Lothania would endure the same torment Aiden and I now faced.

We had to find the lake spirit and sever this accursed oath as soon as possible.

As I stroked Lothania’s shoulder, I turned to Vitrain. He had just returned from Lingrove, where the annual “Festival of the Lake Spirit” was held.

“Did you confirm it? Does the story suggest the boy in the mask was Barbados I?”

“I can’t say for certain, but it seems likely, Your Majesty,” Vitrain replied, nodding as he began recounting what he had learned.

Vitrain had gone to Lingrove to investigate the identities of the two figures invited to the lake spirit’s festival: “The Boy” and “The Lady.”

The boy’s mask, unlike the fearsome design of the lady’s, bore a sorrowful expression.

“They call him ‘The Lonely Boy.’ They say his mask looks sad because he was lonely. That’s how the locals described it.”

Hearing this, Lothania lifted her head from my embrace, her interest piqued.

“A lonely boy invited to the spirit’s festival? Then it must have been the first emperor! Duke Kidmillan, did you learn how the boy received his invitation?”

“My apologies, Your Highness. Beyond the story of the crying boy, there was no information about the invitation.”

Lothania, who had been brimming with excitement, slumped back into my arms, her disappointment evident.

Watching his dejected master, the loyal eagle hurried to add, “I did learn about the lady, however.”

“We don’t care about the lady!” Lothania mumbled into my shoulder, her voice disinterested.

It seemed anything unrelated to Barbados I didn’t pique her curiosity.

As I stroked her hair, I asked Vitrain, “Tell me, Vitrain. What did you learn about the lady?”

“She was said to be the wife of the wealthiest man in this region long ago. However, she threw herself into Lake Beryl and took her own life.”

His words brought to mind the grotesque mask of the lady, with its ghostly white face and slashed black eyes.

So the mask looked like that because she wasn’t among the living?