Episode 92

Maybe that’s why, even after giving away his entire fortune, Lian still felt indebted.

Lian stroked his chin, deep in thought.

He had never once considered that he could be someone’s flaw.

Of course, that was his own, rather self-centered perspective—one that was wreaking havoc on the Belpator Empire.

Oddly, acknowledging the debt he owed his sibling made him feel more at ease.

Debts could be repaid.

Amused at the thought of how incredulous Sione would be if she knew what he was thinking, Lian asked her, “Does it matter what the nobles say? Isn’t it enough if the Crown Princess allows it?”

“No, it’s not. I have no intention of granting such permission.”

“…I thought you were fond of Mel,” Lian responded, puzzled.

“Melbrid is a boy anyone would find lovable, unlike you. But I can’t allow the brother of a traitorous criminal to remain in my daughter’s palace.”

“I didn’t assassinate His Majesty. All I wanted was to free my brother from the shackles of the oath.”

“Indeed. And for that, you only needed His Majesty’s death.”

Sione deliberately spoke harshly.

It was impossible to predict who Lothania would hold responsible for the emperor’s death—Bonita or Lian.

And Sione couldn’t fully trust Lian’s claims that he had merely stoked Bonita’s ambition. The truth would only come to light when Lothania awakened.

Sione sincerely hoped neither of the two children would be harmed. Above all, she wanted to avoid a situation where Lothania would have to kill Melbrid.

But if it came to that, she would choose Lothania over Melbrid without hesitation.

How cruel emotions could make a person.

Sione’s tongue felt bitter in her mouth, as though she wanted to spit out the words she had spoken.

Lian, meanwhile, was visibly shaken by Sione’s cold words and gaze.

The day he infiltrated the Senwood Marquisate, he had steeled himself to die.

No—Lian had put his life on the line from the moment he placed the serpent’s curse on Bonita.

After all, his life wasn’t of much value to him, so it hadn’t been such a grand resolve.

But he had neither expected nor desired his brother’s death.

Swallowing dryly, Lian managed to squeeze out a hoarse voice.

“My brother is innocent.”

“And what sin did His Majesty or Henry Senwood commit?”

For the first time, Lian Zernia’s expression completely crumbled in response to Sione’s retort.

He had thought that by keeping his own hands clean, the emperor’s death wouldn’t affect Melbrid.

He had believed that soft-hearted Sione wouldn’t punish an innocent boy like Melbrid.

He had even calculated that the Crown Princess wouldn’t kill a sibling destined to become the next serpent.

But everything had gone wrong.

Where had it gone wrong? He realized now—it had all been wrong from the start.

Sione, for her part, was just as tormented. Exhaling the breath she had been holding, she spoke again, her voice tinged with resolve.

“So, tell me, Lian. How can your brother be saved?”

Lian’s violet eyes, which had been weighed down by despair, began to dart around as if a faint glimmer of hope had returned.

Even as he searched his mind, which wasn’t working well today, he couldn’t come up with a brilliant answer.

When his silence dragged on, an exasperated Sione pressed him further.

“What about sending him to a family unrelated to the Zernia Duchy? Is there any household that could take him in?”

It was a good idea.

If possible, it would be better to entrust Melbrid to a family with enough power to shield him from the stain of treason.

But no matter how much Lian thought about it, there was no family willing to take in his brother.

They’d be lucky if whoever took Melbrid in didn’t end up exacting revenge on him for Lian’s misdeeds.

After a long and desperate silence, Lian finally spoke.

“Leave him stripped of his ties to the Zernia Duchy. With the wealth he possesses, he’ll have no trouble surviving. After I die, and if he awakens as a serpent, perhaps he could negotiate with the Crown Princess once more.”

If he awakened as the serpent, his utility alone might spare his life.

Instead of releasing him from the shackles of the serpent’s binding, perhaps bargaining with his life as collateral would be worth attempting.

Lian’s solution was characteristically pragmatic, whereas Sione hadn’t even considered Melbrid’s potential usefulness.

She couldn’t envision Lothania and Melbrid negotiating over matters of life and death.

Still, if Melbrid became a commoner, he would have to leave the imperial palace anyway. It seemed like a suitable way to separate the two children.

Resolving to ensure Melbrid’s well-being, Sione nodded.

“So be it.”

Perhaps the weight of her emotions had finally taken its toll, for once Melbrid’s situation was decided, her head began to spin.

As she staggered, a large, warm hand steadied her back, followed by another hand reaching out from the other side.

Almost instinctively, Sione grasped Aiden’s hand.

Leaning on him, she regained her balance and stood upright.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just felt a little dizzy for a moment.”

“You should return now. Next time, I’ll have a sofa prepared.”

“That might be for the best.”

Answering absently, Sione’s gaze drifted and landed on the other hand extended toward her.

Looking up, she saw its owner gazing at her with a forlorn expression.

It hadn’t been a calculated choice to take Aiden’s hand over Vitrain’s, nor had she intended to reject Vitrain.

Her body had simply leaned toward Aiden.

Though she felt an odd pang of guilt, it wasn’t the right moment to offer an apology.

Vitrain gave a bitter smile and withdrew his hand, leaving Sione still holding onto Aiden.

She wanted to say something, but every word felt like an excuse. Yet offering an excuse seemed to make the situation stranger. Left with no choice, she turned her body toward the door.

As she walked away, Sione paused and glanced back at Lian.

He wasn’t looking at her but instead stared straight ahead, his thoughts indecipherable.

Sione studied his profile, devoid of a smile, before finally asking.

“Did you kill Bonita to hide your crimes, or was it because she tried to have me expelled?”

She had heard both explanations from Lian’s lips, but the question continued to gnaw at her.

Neither answer felt like the truth.

Perhaps now, he might reveal the real reason.

Though in the grand scheme of things, what did the truth even matter at this point? Still, she wanted to know.

Slowly, Lian turned his head toward her, his face utterly expressionless.

“Neither.”

“Then what could possibly have driven you to endure such agony and risk your life to use that power?”

Lian’s violet eyes briefly flicked to where Sione’s hand was still clasped with Aiden’s.

Sione was a perceptive person, yet on this matter, she had always been mistaken.

The downfall of the Senwood Marquisate had been his gift to her—a gift for which he had staked his life.

In his view, the most effective way to win someone’s heart was through coercion or bribery.

Others might disagree, but that’s what Lian believed.

However, neither of those methods could be applied to Sione. So, he had chosen to offer her a gift instead.

The chocolate cake, the golden bust, the ice sculpture—this was the final one. And yet, the beast she had chosen wasn’t him.

Behind Sione, the black-haired dog glared at him.

Lian had tried to mimic the dog, but it hadn’t worked.

He would never understand what Sione saw in that insolent mutt.

Lian forced the corners of his lips upward into a wide smile.

“That’s a secret.”

He wouldn’t tell her. After all, it was only fair that there be something she would never know.

Sione gazed at the smiling Lian for a moment before turning and leaving the cell.

Left alone, Lian stared at the tightly shut iron door and thought to himself.

He shouldn’t have given gifts like the chocolate cake, which could be eaten and forgotten, the golden bust, which could be melted down, or the ice sculpture, which had already melted away.

He should have given her something unchanging and everlasting.

It was strange, coming from someone who had wished to leave no trace of himself after death.

To think he regretted ever wanting something as fleeting as her tears.

* * *

As I stepped out of the cell, Vitrain bowed his head.

“I’ll take my leave now. I’ll return tomorrow to pay my respects once more.”

He needed to prepare to return to the southern border.

I should have simply let him go, yet for some reason, I stopped him.

“Vitrain.”

After calling out to him, I found myself at a loss for words. All I could do was look at him in silence.

Vitrain smiled, his left cheek dimpling.

“Your Majesty, do you remember the promise I made last time?”

“Promise?”

“I told you that as long as I’m here, no one will dare to threaten your empire.”

“Ah, yes, I remember now. You did say that.”

“On that day, Your Majesty said something as well.”

“And what did I say that day?”

Vitrain had spoken those words on the last day of our retreat at Lake Beryl.

I tilted my head, unable to recall what I might have said, and his dimple deepened as his smile widened.

“That’s why it’s all right,” he said.

Leaving behind those cryptic words, Vitrain turned and walked away.

I stood there, watching his figure grow smaller in the distance.

Then, belatedly, the conversation we had shared that day came back to me.