Chapter 8:
“I thought you two had grown apart since childhood, but now I see you’re still close. Ah, come to think of it, I heard the news.”
Ayla flinched. There was only one kind of news the Emperor could bring up with them.
“I heard an academy student died in an accident. Such a shame.”
The Emperor spoke as if he felt sorry. Ayla remained silent, unable to find a response, and Damian spoke in a mockingly regretful tone.
“Indeed. I still don’t know how it happened.”
“There are now calls to raise the legal drinking age. They argue that even if someone is legally an adult, they still lack self-restraint at that age.”
The mourning for the deceased student was fleeting. The conversation quickly shifted to national policies. Damian responded politely enough to the Emperor, while Ayla elegantly sliced her steak, showing no interest in their discussion. But her thoughts were far from composed.
Forbidden herbs. Illegal harvesting. The king’s tomb. Gilota. A wizard. Engagement. The fragmented words floated in her mind. They were the things that had been tormenting her.
Suddenly, Ayla looked straight ahead. Seated across from her, the Empress had remained unusually silent throughout the meal. Her face was pale—so much so that Ayla wondered if she were ill—and her knife was slicing through the air as if lost in thought.
Ayla felt a strange sense of unease. An inexplicable thorn rolled through her heart. Her mind, already fraying at the edges, leapt to a wild and implausible thought.
Could the Empress be involved in this incident?
Impossible. Utter nonsense. Whether it was a wizard or a group of conspirators, whoever orchestrated this had acted boldly—brazenly, even, like it was all for show. The Empress, trembling so feebly, couldn’t possibly be one of them.
Shaking her head slightly to chase away the ridiculous thought, Ayla asked with concern, as a lady should,
“Your Majesty the Empress, are you feeling unwell?”
Damian and the Emperor, who had been discussing the ideal legal drinking age, turned their attention to the Empress. Under the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes, Nibellia quickly composed herself. Her pallor faded, and only the gentle face of the Empress remained.
“Are you unwell, Your Majesty?” the Emperor asked.
“No, Your Majesty. I was merely worried about whether Herdin is doing well in his lessons. I must have let it show on my face.”
The Empress smiled as if it were nothing, then turned to Ayla.
“Thank you for your concern, Lady Ayla.”
Ayla responded with a polite smile. But in her mind, the wild thought she had dismissed earlier was starting to return. The Empress was not a wizard—but what if she was connected to someone who was?
“Herdin is already five years old. It’s time you stopped worrying,” said the Emperor.
“What do you mean ‘already’? He’s still a little child, Your Majesty,” the Empress replied with a mother’s tender smile.
Ayla forced a calm smile, trying to conceal the sharp edge of her growing suspicion.
“Come to think of it, Damian, it’s been a while since you saw Herdin, hasn’t it?”
Herdin was the Empress’s young son. In other words, Damian’s younger half-brother. Now five years old, he was reportedly diligently attending lessons as a royal. The image of Herdin floated into Ayla’s mind. He looked different from Damian. As a child, Damian had resembled the former Empress more than the Emperor, sparking rumors at one point that he might not be the Emperor’s son. But his silver hair had made his royal blood unmistakable.
In contrast, Herdin resembled the Emperor. Though the Emperor was still young, traces of his even younger self were visible in Herdin’s face. But regardless of all that, Herdin was simply adorable. His chubby cheeks looked irresistibly pinchable. It had been several months since Ayla last saw him, back when he used to visit the academy to see Damian. He must be even cuter now. Ayla suddenly missed him.
Just then, the Emperor seemed to read her mind.
“He’s probably in his swordsmanship class right now. Would you like to go see him?”
At that, Damian turned to look at Ayla. She was staring back at him with sparkling eyes. Though he didn’t like how eager she looked to see his brother, he had no real reason to refuse. Besides, Herdin was still an innocent child.
Damian nodded.
“I’ll go with Ayla. I’m sure Herdin would like to see her too.”
“Oh my, that’s right. Herdin does like Lady Ayla, doesn’t he? Is that alright with you?” the Empress asked, her expression nothing but innocence.
Lady Ayla responded with a lady’s perfect smile.
“It would be my greatest honor, Your Majesty the Empress.”
Their laughter—like masks—filled the dining room. Ayla thought to herself: choosing the life of a royal official over that of a noble lady was, indeed, the best decision she’d ever made.
✦ ✦ ✦
Ayla didn’t understand why, when she was supposed to be visiting Herdin with Damian, a servant had led her to Damian’s room instead. She called out for the servant again, but the servant had already disappeared and did not return. With no other option, Ayla waited in the room. She figured Damian must have gone to fetch Herdin.
She sat on the bed as if it were the most natural thing. It was large enough to fit three people comfortably and very soft. She remembered how they used to play in this room as children. Sometimes, she would fall asleep on this very bed with Damian after a long day of playing. That was something only possible under the name of friendship.
Ayla looked blankly around the room. Memories with Damian lingered in every corner. Nothing had changed since those days.
If anything had changed…
“…I’m insane. Absolutely insane, Ayla Dürmann. You’re out of your mind.”
Ayla grabbed her head. Regret surged through her like a breaking dam.
“Should I call it off now? But I’ve already met the Emperor. Can I really cancel it now? No—if we find the real culprit, it’ll get called off anyway, right? No, that’s not even the real problem.”
The problem was her father. The Duke of Dürmann, who had refused all public office and focused on business in his territory. Now that the Emperor knew, it was only a matter of time before her father found out. And that was the bigger problem. No one could predict how he’d react—that was the real issue.
“This is a disaster. Should I write him a letter first? Yeah, I’ll write to Eileen first.”
Ayla searched the room. She opened every drawer. Finally, she found some good stationery—fancy paper used in the royal palace.
She sat at the table and placed the paper in front of her, sinking deep into thought. What should she say? Where should she begin? Until now, she had always had too much to say and not enough paper to write it. But now, nothing came to mind. The tip of her fountain pen only left black stains on the blank sheet.
Who knows how long she sat like that. Eventually, Ayla began to write. Normally, it would have taken her much longer to write a letter, but this time it was over quickly. With a heavy sigh, she folded the letter and tucked it into her inner pocket.
Walking back to the bed with the defeated steps of a knight who had lost a battle, Ayla collapsed onto the soft mattress.
Blink. Blink. When she closed her eyes, she could almost hear the giggles of children. Her own memories.
Ayla soon closed her eyes completely. Her body was exhausted, the bed was too comfortable, and the room was quiet. It was the perfect environment for sleep. Drowsiness overtook her in an instant.
Her blinking eyes closed for the last time. She fell into a sweet sleep.
Damian stood over the bed, slightly incredulous. He wasn’t sure anymore whether this bed belonged to him or to her. Ayla had sprawled out as if it were her own, sleeping deeply.
“Big brother. Is Ayla noona asleep?”
Herdin, cradled in Damian’s arms, looked at her on the bed and smacked his chubby lips.
“Looks like she’s really tired,” Damian replied, soothing the boy.
“Is studying really that hard?”
At that, Damian recalled how Ayla was at the academy. She really did study like crazy. Even after exams, she was in Kailum. During exam periods—also Kailum. Her concentration was so intense that she sometimes forgot he was even nearby. He sometimes wondered if she ever took breaks. He worried that one day she might collapse from overwork. That’s how she always managed to place second. Others might mock her as the eternal second place, but he knew how hard she worked. He knew her dream. That’s why he couldn’t force his wishes on her.
“Wearing a crown is always hard work.”
He wanted to offer her a different crown, but… not yet.
“Big brother. I’m sleepy too.”
Losing interest in the topic he himself had started, Herdin clung to Damian’s neck and whined. Damian glanced at the bed and then at the sofa, torn for a moment.
He could sleep too. The question was—on the bed, or on the sofa?
“…Should we sleep with her?”
He chose the bed. It was spacious, after all. And he did want to fall asleep next to Ayla again. Memories of their childhood came flooding back.
Herdin beamed and nodded.
“Yeah! Let’s sleep!”
“Okay, but let’s adjust noona first so we can sleep properly.”
Damian gently set Herdin down beside the bed. The obedient little one stood quietly.
Carefully, Damian lifted Ayla and adjusted her position, making sure she was lying straight and her head was on the pillow. Then he stared down at her. Her slightly parted lips looked soft—like they would burst with juice if bitten. Without realizing it, his hand reached out. His fingers hovered close to her lips—
—only to be stopped by a pure, innocent question from his little brother.
