IBRIP l CH 19

Chapter 19

Even Boris, who usually acted rude and overconfident, was on his best behavior in front of the emperor.

There was a reason: he admired Silis, the greatest warrior of the Western Empire.

The emperor glanced at Boris and gave a small nod.

“So this is the boy who broke Yongsik’s arm.”

His voice was cold, but Yudis was so nervous that she didn’t even notice.

“It’s unfortunate, but it was a fair duel. But more importantly, don’t you think this child looks familiar?”

If you could recognize right away that Izana resembled Azellia Lioniya… maybe now, you’ll recognize something else.

That Boris is your child.

“Hmm… someone he looks like…”

But the emperor didn’t catch Yudis’s hidden meaning at all. He simply gave a polite answer.

“He looks more like the duke than the duchess.”

And Yudis’s world came crashing down.

That couldn’t be.

That child wasn’t the son of that useless man… he was your son.

As Yudis froze from the shock, the emperor walked past them and said,

“While I’m here, I’ll take a walk with my second son in the garden.”

Yudis couldn’t stop him.

She had to close her eyes and take deep breaths just to keep from collapsing under the wave of disappointment and emptiness.

And I quietly slipped away, having watched it all.

“The emperor called Joseph over on purpose.”

In the original story, this was long before the moment when the emperor asked Joseph that question about the four people and the loaf of bread.

So… was he watching Joseph even from this early point?

But why?

***

Silis Lioniya walked through the garden with the boy he had barely met a few times.

Just moments ago, the place had been full of gardeners and kitchen maids picking apples and berries for pies. But after one word from him, they all vanished in the blink of an eye.

The warm sunlight shone down, and the smell of damp grass from last night’s rain filled the air.

Silis listened to the quiet footsteps following behind him and finally spoke.

“What do you plan to do in the future, second son? I heard you’re more interested in studies than your older brother.”

In noble families, the best things usually went to the firstborn. Second and third children had to find their own path.

Joseph Rohia waited a moment, then answered,

“I’m still learning bits and pieces of many things, so I’m not ready to give a definite answer yet.”

He smiled politely, walked with the right pace, and spoke in a calm, respectful voice.

His answers were clear, but he didn’t seem like he was trying too hard to impress.

Silis liked how balanced Joseph was—mature, yet not stiff or arrogant.

“Things must have changed a lot after Materia was born.”

“…Yes, very much so.”

“Really? I wonder what changed. It’s only been a few days since Materia was born.”

This time, Joseph stayed silent for quite a while. Silis stopped walking and turned around.

Joseph was smiling faintly but had a thoughtful look on his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“I’m curious why you’re thinking so hard when you just said a lot has changed.”

“I was wondering if I said it wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe nothing actually changed. Maybe things were always this way, and I just didn’t see it before.”

Joseph pointed to the large pear tree in the middle of the garden.

“Your Majesty, what color do you think the trunk of that tree is?”

Silis followed the direction of his small hand.

“It looks very dark brown.”

“That’s probably wrong.”

Silis frowned slightly.

“And why is that?”

“Because what we see is covered by the shadows of the thick branches and leaves.”

“So in reality, it might be a lighter color?”

Joseph nodded, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, almost excited.

“Unless the tree is cut down, we’ll always think it’s dark brown. But we don’t really know what color it truly is.”

Silis walked toward the tree. It was so thick he couldn’t wrap his arms around it.

He touched the damp trunk, peeled off a piece of bark, and stepped out of the shadow to show it to Joseph.

“It’s still dark brown.”

“It’s wet from the rain.”

“If we leave it indoors for a day, it’ll dry, and we’ll see the true color.”

“Yes. Though it’ll probably crumble quickly too.”

Silis dropped the bark and dusted off his hands.

“You already sound like a scholar. I’m not even sure what you’re trying to say.”

“My point is…”

Joseph looked down at the piece of bark and said,

“Even though things seem to have changed after Yubel was born, maybe we don’t need to be surprised or confused.”

“Hm…”

“I think I just need to stay as I’ve always been, and that’ll be enough.”

So I’m fine.

Joseph smiled brightly. His eyes looked clearer than before.

“A ruler must not be easily shaken. That’s a good mindset,” thought Silis.

He was curious about what made Joseph feel like everything had changed after Yubel’s birth.

But he had missed the right moment to ask again.

The way this little boy spoke—graspable yet elusive—had taken control of the conversation, even from the emperor.

Silis didn’t deny it.

He felt both satisfaction and frustration.

He hadn’t brought Joseph here just to celebrate Yubel’s birth.

“Rohia… why did it have to be Rohia?”

Silis had been quietly looking for someone to be the next emperor from among the royal relatives.

After many attempts, he had accepted the truth: he couldn’t have children.

He didn’t like the Rohia family, especially the head, Bern Rohia, for his stubbornness and incompetence.

But that had nothing to do with choosing an heir.

And Joseph seemed like a promising candidate.

There were other relatives to consider, so there was still time—but Joseph reminded Silis of himself.

“I have one question. I’d like an honest answer.”

He tasted the lingering flavor of the dried raisins in his mouth.

The former emperor—Silis’s father—had been like a natural disaster to the empire.

He took and destroyed everything around him.

That left the empire shaken.

Silis worked hard to fix the damage. He had made progress, but his father’s actions would haunt him forever.

So the next emperor had to be strong in every way. And if possible, someone like Silis.

He had killed his own father—but everything he built afterward proved his decision was right.

So he opened his mouth to ask—

“In a desert with no end, if you…”

But he couldn’t finish the question.

***

“Are you asking me which kind of chaos I’d choose, Your Highness?”

The young boy’s voice echoed in his ears.

***

“The bread means nothing.”

***

The bread Silis held that day was poisoned from the start. It was made purely of poison.

He gave it to a young man. If the man collapsed after a few bites, Silis planned to give the rest to the child nearby.

But the man ate it all. The child never got the chance.

His father had been foolish, cruel, and unhappy. He had lost the only person who supported him—his wife.

After that, he ruined himself and everything around him, like he was begging to be killed.

That’s when Silis made up his mind.

The imperial crown should only go to someone strong enough to bear its weight.

That’s why he was keeping a close eye on Joseph, even though he came from a family Silis disliked.

The next emperor needed to be as strong as him.

Someone who could survive even after killing their own blood.

So that such disasters would never repeat again.

***

“That question was pointless.”

***

But had he truly not been broken?

He had washed the blood from his hands, but he still felt the metallic smell lingering in his nose.

He didn’t regret what he did.

But maybe that day was like an infected wound that slowly spread inside him.

Maybe he was still lost on that day—so much so that he confessed to a girl he had just met.

“I’ll return now.”

“…Weren’t you going to ask a question—”

“Forget it. I’m heading back to the palace.”

Silis turned and walked away, lifting one eyebrow.

“Izana… it’s a nice name.”

That little girl who could fit three whole bread rolls in her mouth… What was she?

He’d never seen anyone like her.

She had a strange ability to see through him.

“She’s nothing like me, Aunt. Not at all.”

But it wasn’t bad.

Next time, he thought with a small smile, I’ll ask if she can eat four.