Chapter 4.
The Shadow of Assassination
“Another failure? Someone will be very disappointed.”
Crown Prince Myers slowly set down the cup he was holding.
A faint bitterness lingered in his mouth after he had wet his lips. Luckily, he had already taken an antidote beforehand.
He had even dropped a small testing pill into the tea to see if there was poison.
The liquid in the cup slowly darkened.
“As expected, it’s poisoned. Don’t you think so, Sir Janice?”
Sir Janice, who was sitting with him, also peered into the cup carefully.
“Phew… forgive me, Your Highness. I should have been more careful. I’ll deal with it right away—and track down the culprit as well.”
“No need. I already know who it is. Don’t waste your time.”
Myers gave a faint smile. He was certain it was Commander Cedric. There had been many assassination attempts, but Cedric was the most persistent of them all—relentless and cunning.
The most dangerous of his political enemies. He had once been the illegitimate son of the Pope, even risen to the rank of Cardinal, but threw off his robes and became Commander of the Imperial Guard.
His ambition was clear: he wanted to build a Holy Nation ruled by the Pope.
“Your Highness, the threats never end. If the man you suspect truly is behind this, then shouldn’t you take action? I fear your freedom of movement is being restricted more and more.”
Myers only nodded in silence, then stared blankly into space.
“At least… he doesn’t know about one secret.”
He fiddled with the ring on his finger—the heirloom power of the Imperial Family. It allowed its wearer to transform into another person entirely.
This divine magic only worked for those of the Bernhardt Imperial bloodline, and it had been passed down in secret through generations.
“Maybe I should go out again tonight. Whenever assassins strike, I get in a gloomy mood. Don’t you agree?”
“Your Highness, you had a full schedule today. Aren’t you exhausted? Overusing that divine power drains your strength. You’ll need time to recover.”
It was true. The magic had one major weakness: it quickly exhausted the user. It couldn’t be used too often.
Still, Myers shook off the warning with a smirk and pulled on a black cloak.
“Follow me through the secret passage. Don’t forget to disguise yourself. Or don’t come at all, if you’d rather not.”
He gave a faint smile, though his eyes were distant, almost indifferent.
“…Sigh. When you speak like that, I can’t refuse, can I?”
Sir Janice resigned himself and followed.
Beneath the study in the Crown Prince’s office was another hidden passage that led to a small door at the back garden of the palace.
Concealed by thick bushes, the exit opened onto a narrow path that led out of the palace grounds.
By then, Myers’s face had already changed. His green eyes and black hair were gone.
Now he had warm brown hair and dark eyes—his build and height the same, but his features entirely different.
The sharp, cold aura of the Crown Prince was replaced by a softer, approachable face. Even his voice was slightly altered.
“Sir Janice, hurry and put on a wig. We can’t risk suspicion.”
“I already am.”
Janice pulled a wig from his bag and fitted it onto his head.
“And don’t forget a mustache.”
“…Really? A mustache? It makes me look old. I hate it.”
“Strange, you don’t look any different to me. Old with or without it.”
“…Are you mocking me, Your Highness? Che. Just promise me you’ll come back early and rest.”
As they walked down the forest path, Janice grumbled nonstop about how dangerous this was.
Even in the capital, bandits prowled at night. Myers only chuckled.
“Don’t you trust my swordsmanship? Even my master acknowledged it. Besides, do you think I don’t notice the secret guards trailing us?”
He glanced back. As always, a few knights shadowed him whenever he slipped out. He needed these outings—disguised as a commoner—to breathe.
Assassination had been a threat since childhood, and these secret excursions were the only times he felt free.
“Where shall I go tonight?”
He had already forgotten the poisoned tea from earlier.
His grin was playful now. Disguised as a merchant, he liked visiting trade guilds, gathering information.
It was useful not only for amusement but for Imperial affairs. People thought he was locked away in the palace, but in truth, much of his political power came from information he picked up outside.
“Let’s stop by Maen Trading Company first.”
That was the largest ceramics trader in the capital, and it also ran an information guild. He visited often.
***
Meanwhile, Larienne had arrived near the same area. After paying the carriage driver, she pulled her hood low over her face.
“Mother, this is the place. We’ll stay here a few days. If Father gives up on us, then we’ll start planning our future.”
The carriage dropped them at an inn near the Maen Trading Company. Larienne was about to check in, but then remembered they hadn’t eaten.
“Mother, rest here. I’ll go buy dinner. We can’t skip another meal.”
The crisp autumn air brushed her cheeks as she stepped outside. Her feet unconsciously led her toward a bakery near the trading company.
It was a place she used to visit often. The smell of fresh bread was overwhelming, just like before.
“Hello, sir. Do you have walnut pie to—”
She froze mid-sentence. Right. This was her first time here… at least, in this timeline.
Flustered, she just started pointing at random breads. The shopkeeper gave her a puzzled look, then went back to work.
At that moment—
“Smells amazing here, doesn’t it? Sir Verner, would you like this one? It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”
Larienne couldn’t breathe. At the counter stood Sir Verner, selecting bread.
Beside him was Sir Scott, a knight she often saw accompanying him.
Her eyes stung. Her heart squeezed painfully. She pulled her hood lower, trying to hide her face.
No… I can’t meet him here. Not like this.
She hurriedly set the bread back down and turned to leave. But then she froze.
He wouldn’t recognize me anyway…
Panicking might only draw attention. She forced herself to calm down, lowering her head. But her hands trembled, and tears threatened.
“Young lady, are you unwell?”
A familiar voice. She raised her eyes. It was him—Verner. That same gentle gaze, the one only she knew. She closed her eyes, whispering weakly:
“No… I’m just a little tired. Excuse me.”
Abandoning the bread, Larienne rushed out of the shop.
Myers—still in disguise—watched her retreating figure closely.
“Do you know her? Or… did you just fall for her?” Sir Janice teased, eyebrow raised. Myers rarely spoke to strange noblewomen.
“…I just thought I’d seen her somewhere before. Must be a mistake. But… she looked suddenly unwell, so I spoke without thinking.”
He ruffled his hair awkwardly and forced a smile. Yet behind the smile, a strange unease stirred deep in his mind.
