MEXH • 10

<CHAPTER 10>

Why is that name here?

“Your Highness!”

In a suppressed voice that seemed to force its way out from a blocked throat, Fenril called out to Rexfail.

The eyes that had been closed in satisfaction opened, raising a question.

The escort knight, who promptly caught the unspoken question, shouted loudly.

“That woman is not Her Highness Crown Princess Evelyn! She is… she is…”

Fenril faltered, unable to complete his sentence.

Rexfail waited silently, with either patience or indifference, for his next words.

“Why is that?”

His emotionless eyes stared at his escort knight.

Fenril trembled with fear, as if a sharp blade were at his neck.

Anxious and uneasy, he felt as if the sword might move at any moment and cut him down.

But he was a knight.

A loyal servant to protect his lord and illuminate his path.

As the eyes, ears, hands, and feet of the one he served, he had to make his lord see and hear what he observed.

“Speak.”

The command came.

Fenril exhaled the breath he had been holding and threw out the words circling in his mind.

“Pull yourself together! Her Highness Crown Princess Evelyn passed away two years ago. Did Your Highness not witness her funeral? That woman cannot be Her Highness Crown Princess Evelyn. Please judge correctly with a clear mind. Saint Remensias of the Promise, bless the bloodline of the royal family you have favored!”

The desperate, sincere words poured from the knight’s mouth like the grief of the dying.

He feared that something dark and solid might be clouding his lord’s eyes.

In desperation, he even called upon Remensias, the sole god of the continent.

‘What did he just say…?’

Meanwhile, Evelyn was shocked for another reason: the words “two years ago” from the knight.

‘I regained consciousness two months ago. They said I fell from a tree three or four months ago, so even at the longest estimate, I entered this body no more than half a year ago. Yet I supposedly died two years ago? How is that possible?’

She carefully organized what she knew.

If Fenril was correct, “her former self as Crown Princess Evelyn” had died two years ago.

And if what she knew was right, “Raven” had died half a year ago.

It must have been around the same time she took over this body.

‘What does the one-and-a-half-year gap mean? If it wasn’t a coincidental miracle, then some force must have bound me to this land and led me into this body.’

The thought that what she assumed was mere possession might actually be part of a larger plan or conspiracy sent chills down her spine.

For some reason, she recalled her father, Duke Embrio.

‘This is overthinking!

Father always gets what he wants.

Whatever he wishes to happen, happens; whoever he wishes to vanish, vanishes.

As far as I know, Duke Embrio was the most “almighty” person.’

‘But this isn’t a human domain…’

Dealing with souls is the realm of gods and witches. Therefore, thinking that Father could be involved is excessive, Evelyn persuaded herself.

Meanwhile, Rexfail looked at his escort knight.

His calm, penetrating gaze lingered on Fenril for a long while before moving away.

“Evelyn.”

The unreadable red eyes finally closed, and his head turned.

He bent his body and rested across Evelyn’s legs.

Rexfail, lying on his back facing the ceiling, opened his eyes.

Through Evelyn’s slightly open eyes, still lost in thought, she saw the red gaze of his eyes.

Seeing herself reflected in the deep red pupils, Evelyn imagined herself trapped.

Her entire body restrained, not a single hair or finger could escape, she panicked.

“You speak.”

A hand reached Evelyn’s lips.

The slightly dry, coarse, rough fingers pressed gently on her soft lips.

“Are you my Evelyn?”

“My.”

Those two words struck Evelyn’s chest and made her choke.

“No.”

She had never been Rexfail’s Evelyn.

Had she been someone else’s, some residue of the past life might have lingered.

From birth to death, Evelyn had existed as a tool or means, subordinate to her family.

Her father and her husband, Crown Prince Rexfail himself, reminded her of that until the end.

Yet now he asked, “My Evelyn?”

She gritted her teeth, but could not stop the tears.

Her fingertip, rising involuntarily, wiped the tear ready to fall.

Through blurred vision, she shouted.

“I am not Evelyn. I am Raven. Raven of Simila, living in this small, shabby hut!”

“Simila?”

The fingers that had been caressing her cheek froze.

The Crown Prince’s eyes, staring at Evelyn, turned cold.

***

Panzyal’s heart raced as he rode.

Although other knights were escorting His Highness, remembering the attack that had occurred when he was absent made him unbearably anxious.

“Open the door!”

Entering the castle officially reported to house the Crown Prince required complicated procedures.

If it were known that his closest escort was outside and moving separately, someone might notice the prince’s absence.

Thus, Fenril could not show his identity openly and had to wait in a tedious, long line under a disguised identity.

However, there was no time.

Seeing a trustworthy subordinate knight pass by, he grabbed the opportunity and bypassed the complicated verification.

“Where is Vane?”

“If it’s Sir Aclain, he should be in the study. I confirmed that people from the palace this morning were not sent in there.”

“I see.”

Fenril quickly threw a cloak over himself and attached decorations that proved his identity.

Suddenly, the mysterious man suspected of being an assassin was revealed as everyone’s known Crown Prince’s escort knight.

“Lead the way.”

The castle’s layout was mostly uniform, but in a castle of this size, there would be multiple studies, and it was uncertain where Vane might be.

Not wanting to waste time searching, Fenril began briskly following the knight.

After climbing several stairs and turning several corners, a room with guards caught his eye.

Confident it was the target, Fenril sent the guide knight away and entered the study alone.

“If it’s not urgent…!”

For Vane, an opening of the door usually meant extra work.

Hearing the door open, assuming no immediate task, he thought the maids must have brought tea without orders and shouted abruptly.

Seeing an unexpected figure, Vane removed his glasses, threw them on the desk, and rubbed the area under his brow.

“Your Highness? Did you come together?”

Fenril ignored the question and got straight to business.

“The investigation?”

Vane, not liking to be ignored, grimaced but replied.

“You should have waited a little, I already sent it. Do you want a copy?”

“Give it.”

Being spoken to in a commanding tone is unpleasant, but Vane knew Fenril was not that type, so he handed over a copy.

“What happened?”

“Any suspicious information?”

“Suspicious?”

While Fenril quickly and carefully read through the short report, Vane looked up at the ceiling, recalling the contents.

There was nothing particularly problematic.

“She lives so secluded in the forest, there’s hardly any information. But her origin is rather unusual.”

“Origin?”

Fenril asked, and Vane nodded, pointing to the report with his chin.

“It says here. Though the evidence is not solid yet, there’s a possibility she’s the illegitimate child of the Marshal family.”

“The Marshal family?”

Fenril turned to Vane to confirm he had heard correctly.

Vane nodded obediently.

“Yes. Possibly the illegitimate child of Marquis Marshal. Isn’t it curious, the secret child of that devoted couple, the strict marquis?”

“That’s not important!”

Fenril shouted.

The report described the mundane life of an ordinary woman, but that was not the information he sought.

Yet he didn’t fully know what to ask.

Fenril suddenly remembered a name and shouted.

“Simila, any information on someone named Simila?”

“Why is that name here?”

Vane’s expression, watching the usually impatient Fenril lose composure, stiffened instantly.