Chapter 23
‘This is such a pain. What number are you now?’
Though visibly annoyed, the Tower Lord, who always attended the coronation of each new emperor and offered some sort of blessing (or was it a curse?), once again appeared—still as youthful and beautiful as ever—and questioned the young emperor.
‘I am the 48th.’
‘…How long do I have to keep watching this nonsense.’
With a deep sigh, the Tower Lord turned his head away.
Outside, the roar of the people welcoming a new era echoed like thunder.
The emperor, bearing the heavy crown upon his head, stood amidst the center of all that excitement and clamor, yet wore a detached smile.
That unsettling composure did not escape the Tower Lord’s sharp gaze.
‘You look anything but normal.’
Suppressing a frustrated sigh, the Tower Lord brushed back his snow-white hair.
Then, meeting the pair of red eyes staring straight at him, he spoke.
‘Whether you’ve gone mad or not, that’s none of my concern. But you’d better behave yourself. Just like your dead ancestors did. I won’t stand by and watch you ruin the country my old friend built.’
Tap—
He gave the crown a firm push with his finger and glared at the young emperor with piercing eyes.
‘If you cause me trouble, I won’t let it slide.’
Despite the harsh words that clashed with his gorgeous appearance, the emperor simply looked at the beautiful youth and responded with a pure, boyish smile.
‘Understood, Tower Lord.’
That response, too, felt oddly mismatched.
“…I remember, Tower Lord.”
Hyperion, staring coldly at the smooth-smiling man, eventually reined in his anger.
For a moment, his gaze dropped to the blood still dripping from his hand beneath his sleeve.
“You and the Empress seem to be getting along well.”
The sarcastic remark made the emperor look silently at his bleeding hand.
“…What happens between a husband and wife is our business.”
“I don’t care. Just raise your kids properly. I nearly cut off that punk crown prince’s head today.”
With a grinding threat, the Tower Lord warned him. The emperor smiled gently once more.
“My sons are terribly foolish. Even I question if they’re worthy of inheriting the empire.”
Hyperion didn’t reply. He simply turned away.
His white hair, faintly glowing with a red aura, swayed softly in the air.
“My business is threefold. One: Maia Hansberg is mine. Do not touch her. Two: Don’t interfere in our relationship.”
His fierce golden eyes glared back at the emperor as if to pierce him.
“Three: Don’t do anything foolish to maintain her engagement with the young Western heir. If I catch wind of it, I’ll kill you—emperor or not.”
Half-hidden in the red shadows, the emperor bowed his head quietly and answered.
“I will keep that in mind.”
After staring at his face for a moment, the Tower Lord vanished without a sound.
After Lich left, the atmosphere in the banquet hall was a mess. There really was no better word.
It was a mess.
The crown princess, still pale, was helplessly standing alone among the whispering crowd. The crown prince had collapsed from weak knees and had to be carried away by nobles.
The Duke of Western, visibly annoyed, said nothing and left the banquet hall. As he walked past Maia, he simply tossed her a line:
‘Let’s go.’
Maia stared at his retreating figure and gave a hollow laugh.
Then, out of spite, she took her time leaving the banquet hall as slowly as she could.
The mood in the carriage ride home was cold and bleak.
But that wasn’t important now.
As soon as they arrived, Maia jumped out of the carriage and rushed into the mansion alone.
“Madam, you’ve retur— Wait, Duchess!”
“I’ll change later!”
Thump-thump— Ever since becoming a duchess, she hadn’t once broken decorum by running up the stairs. But now was no time to worry about dignity.
She flung the door open, hiked up her cumbersome dress, and ran to the drawer.
She pulled out the sculpture she had taken to the palace and grabbed a quill to fill out a letter.
“What are you doing?”
It was at that moment.
“Kyaaa!”
A calm voice sounded from right behind her.
Startled, Maia screamed, feeling like her heart had dropped.
She turned around to find Lich, who had arrived without her noticing.
Maia quickly looked toward the door.
“Duchess? Duchess of Western! Is something wrong?”
As expected, her scream had been heard outside the room.
A maid’s worried voice called out.
Maia glared once at Lich, who stared at her blankly, then shouted loud enough for the maid to hear:
“It’s nothing, you must have misheard. Everything’s fine. Don’t come in.”
“…Understood. Please call if you need anything.”
The maid’s footsteps slowly faded.
Maia leaned on the desk behind her and bowed her head.
“Sorry… I didn’t think you’d be that surprised. I came as fast as I could…”
Lich apologized in a pitiful tone, having clearly noticed Maia’s tension.
“You… you bastard…”
The moment those words slipped from Maia’s lips, her hand shot out and grabbed Lich by the collar.
“You damn bastard! What?! Grand Mage?! Lihail Earis?!”
She shouted, full of fury.
“How could you hide that for over ten years?!”
Everything that had happened today flashed through her mind.
She could understand some of it.
Lich had been a bit over-the-top, but she didn’t feel pity for the people who had tried to slander and bring her down. Well… except for the crown prince.
But this—this was different.
Maia bit her lip.
You, of all people, I trusted.
Not even my father. Not even my mother.
‘What your parents did has nothing to do with you. Want me to tell you something? In the grand scheme of your life, your parents don’t matter that much. What matters is the relationships you’ll build going forward.’
When rumors spread that her mother was the emperor’s mistress, not a single child approached her.
‘And your first real bond? Let me be that. Sounds reassuring, right?’
When I cried alone, you came without hesitation and made me laugh. You were such a precious part of my life.
“You were lying to me too…”
Maia glared at Lich, tears brimming in her eyes.
“…Well then, tell me, Lord Lihail Earis. What made a centuries-old transcendent play pretend as my fake friend?”
Lich’s eyelids trembled.
“Maia…”
He looked at her, not knowing what to say.
Maia looked into his impossibly beautiful golden eyes and spoke with a tremble:
“You could’ve at least told me your real name. If not your last name, then at least your first. Lihail.”
“No.”
Lich cut her off.
“That’s not my name.”
Maia frowned.
“Then what is?”
Lich’s eyes widened.
He looked at her for a long time, as if contemplating, then averted his gaze.
“…The Tower Lord just made it up.”
What…?
Maia searched his face and asked,
“Still, you must have a real name, right?”
“I don’t. Lich is my name. Just keep calling me that.”
His tone was uncharacteristically firm.
Maia stared at him for a moment, then let go of the collar she had grabbed.
So much had happened in just a few hours.
And yet Lich, the one who’d caused all the chaos, now looked down at her nervously, which was oddly funny.
Her mind was a jumbled mess of fragmented memories.
She clearly remembered meeting Lich as a boy her own age.
Year after year, he’d grown naturally, in sync with time.
But how could someone like that be the Lord of the Tower?
The title “Lord” alone implied he wasn’t even human anymore.
Just… when did you start lying to me?
Was the boy I loved and believed to be my friend nothing but an illusion I made up?
Rustle.
Then, she felt a foreign hand on her forehead.
Maia looked up.
He was gently tucking her messy hair behind her ear—hair disheveled from the banquet, the carriage, and her frantic sprint.
Her mind went blank.
All the chaos in her head paused.
“Go ahead. Ask me anything you want.”
A quiet voice rang out.
Lich looked down at her.
“I’ll answer everything.”
If you’re going to act like this…
Maia opened her mouth and barely managed to speak.
“…Forget it. I don’t want to ask anymore.”
Lich’s eyes widened in surprise.
“What’s the point? Even if I keep asking…”
He hadn’t changed.
From the moment he approached her as a boy to the chaos he caused at the banquet today—
‘Your hand. I’m not healing it again. Stop aggravating it.’
He had always been far too kind to her.
Her burning anger had completely melted away. It left only emptiness.
Maia lowered her gaze and asked:
“Why did you come to the banquet today? Did the real Tower Lord tell you to bring the world to ruin?”
Lich’s expression darkened immediately.
“You’ve been enduring that kind of treatment all this time?”
His voice returned, cold and sharp.
Maia couldn’t answer. His words had sliced straight into her heart.
It felt like a shameful secret had been discovered by family.
…You must think I’m pathetic.
When he tried to stop me, I stubbornly insisted the Duke of Western was a good man. That I’d be happy.
‘He and I will be happy. We will be, I’m sure of it.’
Recalling her foolish past made her cheeks burn uncontrollably.
She didn’t know if it was embarrassment or sorrow, but something blurred her vision.
“Those bastards…”
At that moment, Lich growled—low, dangerous, and full of rage. And with that, all her thoughts shattered.
