It feels like I’m getting closer to the truth, yet it still seems distant.
Years have passed as I’ve run around trying to uncover the truth and understand the facts.
When facing an event and trying to discover the truth, there were times I felt an emptiness.
Mistakes keep repeating, and people never truly reflect on their actions.
Investigating, making arrests, then moving on to another case, making more arrests, and on and on… It felt like being stuck in an endless cycle that would never end.
This feeling was especially strong when solving crimes in the capital that seemed unrelated to me. Watching Clovis organize orders and head off, Karl leaned deeply into his chair.
A deep fatigue pressed down on his entire body. Though he tried to avoid thinking about it, there were moments when overwhelming fatigue made him feel like he was being dragged underground.
In those moments, Karl pushed himself to find even more work.
Only through overwhelming tasks could he push away laziness.
He couldn’t set aside work to rest simply because he felt a bit tired. Rest and stability had long been pushed to the bottom of his priorities.
That’s why the memories of that time felt even more vivid. The days spent with Celeste at the Grand Palace were, in truth, a dreamlike respite for him.
“Celeste…”
Her bright smile came to mind. Along with it, a soft smile appeared on his otherwise stern face.
Even while smiling, Karl was unaware that he was smiling.
“Valerie.”
Whenever he recalled moments with Celeste, Valerie was always there at the end. How could he not smile thinking of a child who looked just like them, smiling adorably?
Just thinking of the two of them filled his heart with overwhelming emotion.
My wife and my child. With his own strength, he had formed a complete family. At times, this was incredibly moving for Karl.
To him, family had once meant imperfection, always accompanied by misfortune and sadness. It signified some kind of lack.
But now, everything had changed.
The childhood in which he could do nothing for his family contrasted sharply with the present, where he had formed a complete family through his own strength, planting a thread of happiness in Karl’s heart.
Perhaps it was said that happiness grows from deficiency. Celeste and Valerie, just by existing, filled Karl’s deficit with a vast ocean of happiness.
“I miss them.”
Startled by his own murmuring, Karl opened his eyes wide. He had unintentionally voiced his longing to see her out loud.
The man who was once called a heartless, bloodless investigator of criminals, even referred to as “His Excellency the Grand Mask,” was now cherishing thoughts of a woman.
This was a sight that the old him would never have imagined.
Karl unconsciously opened his eyes and scanned the surroundings to confirm whether Clovis had truly gone outside.
If Clovis had seen him in such a state, he would have giggled and thought he had found yet another opportunity to tease his superior.
Though Clovis was an exceptionally loyal and capable subordinate, he sometimes crossed the line with teasing remarks, using their close relationship as a shield.
Even so, those remarks were filled with genuine affection, spoken not merely as a superior but as if they were family.
***
In the deep of night, a shadow crept over the silent underground prison managed by the royal investigative team.
Here, a handful of criminals caught for various offenses and a frail old woman, exhausted from all-day interrogation by Clovis, were confined.
The moving shadows made no sound and numbered three. They appeared just as the guards were changing shifts at the prison entrance, their bodies wrapped in black cloth, making them nearly invisible to the naked eye.
In the late night, in the dark underground, and with men dressed in black, the guards, who had stepped away for just a few seconds to switch shifts, provided the perfect opportunity for the men to rush inside the prison.
“Did you hear something?”
“What sound?”
The two guards, returning a step late, sensed something amiss and glanced around, but only darkness met their eyes. Assuming it was a mistake, one guard scratched his ear and returned to his post.
The men who entered the prison seemed to know the layout well. After allowing their eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, they began to move boldly towards their destination.
Their purpose was clear. There were three locations in the underground prison: the southernmost cell, the central area, and the adjoining room. There, three old women, captured in the black market, were each contained.
***
After waking up, I went for a walk, took some time to heal, had meals, rested, and then repeated it all over again. It was a monotonous routine, endlessly cycling.
“Are you feeling very stifled? Unable to go outside?”
“Yeah.”
As I poured the tea, Leev asked.
Each day felt like a stamp being pressed—predictable and devoid of surprises. There was nothing to look forward to for tomorrow, nor was there any reminiscing about unexpected events as I went to bed.
While the anticipated routine spun like a hamster wheel, my body and mind grew calm. The phrase “emotional ups and downs” had almost slipped from my memory.
“Shall I ask the knights if we can take a walk outside?”
“A walk?”
“It should be fine to just walk close to the castle walls. No one will come here anyway.”
It was a sweet temptation. Leev’s casual suggestion was so enticing that I almost impulsively responded with, “Sure, let’s go!”
But situations like that often lead to trouble when I go outside thinking it will be fine. Something always happens in those moments of carelessness—it’s the most common cliché in novels when a main character faces a crisis.
“It’s fine. I’m not working myself to death. I’m just sitting here, eating food someone prepares for me, drinking tea that’s served, and receiving healing magic. If I fail to enjoy that, what’s the point?”
Leev, surprised, looked at me with wide eyes. It was a look indicating she found my words uncharacteristic.
“I’m not alone; I have family to think about. I must be more careful.”
“Isn’t that usually something a husband would say?”
“Is it? What does gender matter? Having family is the same.”
“That’s true.”
“But why tidy the bedding if you’re just going to sleep soon?”
“Because you’ll be sleeping, so it has to be arranged.”
Leev’s hands deftly tidied the bedding. How many times a day does she do that?
It seems just one tidying up in the morning should suffice, yet Leev and Cecilia frequently rearranged the bedroom and bed.
Since it’s the Grand Duchess’s sleeping quarters, they insisted on maintaining this level of cleanliness. I’ve grown too weary to stop them, and now I just watch.
Do they change the blankets weekly? Today, a soft white blanket with lace dangled decoratively was spread out. As I prepared for bed, I savored the last moments of our tea time, trying to make it last.
“It’s time for you to sleep, my lady? Oh, right. Grand Duchess.”
“When it’s just us, it’s fine. You can call me ‘my lady’ comfortably.”
When there are ears listening, I think it should be enough to be careful with titles, but it seemed that was not the case from the perspective of those below.
Even in moments when it was just me alone with Liv, Cecilia, and Hannah, they insisted on calling me “Your Highness,” which was quite uncomfortable.
I had just gotten somewhat used to titles like “My Lord” and “Excellency,” and now there were even more titles.
It wasn’t about who was listening; Cecilia would scold me gently, saying that addressing someone correctly should be second nature to avoid mistakes even in critical moments. I couldn’t retort against that.
“I’ll sit here a little longer, so you can go,” I said.
The tea was still half full. Liv nodded and, instead of urging me to sleep, clasped her hands neatly and retreated from the bedroom.
With a soft thud, the door closed, leaving behind silence. I preferred the cozy feel of the dim light; I turned off all bright lamps and lit a few candles on the table.
The soft scent wafted as the candles burned. Gazing at the flickering flames had become my routine before sleep.
“Karl…”
I wondered when I might see him again. In the darkened room, I murmured that name quietly to myself.
Karl, Karl. If someone overheard, they would surely tease me about how much I admired the Grand Duke, so I could only say it when alone.
I rolled my tongue and called out “Karl” once more. The sound resonated pleasantly in my mouth. As I murmured his name about three times…
“Did you call for me?”
A familiar yet strange voice echoed. A chill ran down my spine.
“Maybe… I misheard?”
I must have misheard. I was alone here. Just as I tried to shake off the scary thought and grasp my teacup again…
“It seems I missed you a lot.”
This wasn’t a hallucination. This voice was real. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I froze in place.
Slowly, I turned my head toward the source of the sound. Wasn’t it supposed to be impossible for anyone else’s voice to be here?
“I missed you too, Celly.”
When I turned around, there was Karl, smiling at me just as always.
