Chapter 42:
Harun gently let go of the hand that Aleysia had used to hold him.
“Forgive me, Your Grace. I cannot tell you.”
He spoke sincerely, and her eyes narrowed slightly at his apology.
Aleysia glanced down at the sword imbued with magic by Harun, then lifted her gaze.
“How much do you know?”
“I only know what I’ve been permitted to know.”
“Which means you can only speak about what you’ve been permitted.”
Aleysia sighed and turned her body. Franz, lying in bed, came into her view. He looked as if he were dead, deeply asleep.
She looked at him for a moment, then surveyed the room.
It was a mess. Anyone walking in might think it had been ransacked.
Scattered across the floor were vases, ornaments, and chairs—thrown aside in the throes of Franz’s mana-induced agony.
As she looked around, Harun snapped his fingers. Instantly, the disordered objects began returning to their proper places.
“It’s unfortunate we had to meet under these circumstances.”
As the flower that had fallen was returned to its vase and the vase was placed on the table, Harun spoke.
Aleysia watched as the table was pushed back to where it belonged.
“It’s not that our meeting is unfortunate. What’s unfortunate is meeting me. We weren’t meant to meet at all.”
Once the room had been neatly restored, Harun let out a long sigh.
“…It’s also unfortunate that I can’t tell you more of what I know.”
Aleysia slowly turned her gaze to him. Just moments ago, the man had shown not even a trace of humanity, yet now his face was full of remorse.
“It’s painful not to be able to help you more.”
“If you have even a shred of sympathy for me, offer me some useful advice.”
Looking at him directly, Aleysia continued,
“For the sake of a useless Second Princess Consort who can’t even properly neutralize mana, a pitiable consort who’s about to be cast out to either her parental home or the side palace.”
“Your Grace, that’s…”
Harun seemed flustered. Aleysia shrugged lightly.
“I didn’t eavesdrop on purpose. I just… heard it. And once I realized it was about me, I couldn’t stop listening.”
“My suggestion came from concern for you, Your Grace. Forgive me, but… You don’t trust Prince Franz, do you?”
Harun paused and carefully selected his next words.
“You don’t trust Prince Franz. Understandable, since it was a political marriage.”
“That’s a nice excuse. But political marriage isn’t a good enough reason. You know that, right? Prince Crayton and Princess Glena were also a political match, yet they’re devoted to each other. But I—I don’t trust Franz Eustace.”
She crossed her arms, turning her eyes toward Franz. As she looked at him peacefully sleeping, bitter words escaped her lips.
“No, it’s not that I don’t trust him. I hate him.”
She spoke firmly and took a deep breath.
“I hate Franz Eustace.”
It was a declaration. Aleysia turned her cold eyes back to Harun. At some point, all emotion had drained from his face.
He studied her carefully, as if assessing whether she posed any danger to Franz.
She smirked at him.
“What’s with that look? It’s not like it’s a surprise. If you’ve heard about me from Franz, you should already know.”
“I suspected. Seeing the Second Prince’s condition now has confirmed it.”
“Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t purposely fail to neutralize the mana. It simply didn’t work.”
At her explanation, Harun lowered his gaze. Staring at the floor for a moment, he then lifted his eyes.
“…To Your Grace, the Imperial Palace must feel like a prison.”
Aleysia’s eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, she was speechless.
A prison.
There could be no more accurate word.
Her life had been a prison—one she could not escape. Each time she tried, she was dragged back in.
“He found the right answer from such an unexpected place.”
She genuinely admired Harun’s insight. A gentle smile appeared on her face.
“If that’s true, can you tell me how to escape this prison?”
“…Forgive me, but—”
“That’s enough.”
She waved her hand.
Harun’s loyalty to Franz was greater than expected.
The way he dodged her questions, sympathizing without offering any real help, made that clear.
“Enough with the regrets and apologies. If that’s all you’re going to do, you may as well say you don’t know anything from the start.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Then at least do me one favor.”
“Please, go ahead.”
Aleysia walked over to Franz. She looked down at the son of the sun, lying pale on the bed, her gaze intense.
Without taking her eyes off him, she spoke.
“Don’t get in my way.”
Her expression twisted. She turned back to Harun with a desperate look.
“Let me do what I want.”
“You don’t need to ask.”
Harun sighed deeply.
“That is… already an order given to me by the Second Prince himself.”
At that, Aleysia looked back at Franz again.
He had no idea what kind of conversation was unfolding around him and remained sound asleep.
Harun adjusted his cloak and continued.
“Prince Franz ordered me to ensure Your Grace’s safety and freedom. I will do my best to follow that command.”
“Why would Franz issue such an order? I’m a failed partner with no value to him.”
“That’s something you’ll need to ask him, not me.”
With that, Harun pulled his cloak over his face. A shadow fell across his pale features.
Before her eyes, he muttered something low, and the shadow under his feet expanded.
Aleysia stared, stunned, as Harun was drawn into the shadow.
She couldn’t stop him in time—he vanished into the darkness.
The shadow that had swallowed him quickly shrank to a dot and disappeared without a trace.
“What did I just witness?”
Aleysia stared dumbfounded at the spot where Harun had stood.
It felt like a dream.
But the sword in her hand—and the room around her—told her it wasn’t.
She slowly looked down. The sword in her hand gleamed silver, like stars carved into it from the night sky.
“Do not make foolish mistakes.”
Aleysia bit her lip hard. But mistakes aren’t something you avoid simply by not wanting to make them.
Sometimes people repeat them even when they know they’re wrong.
And Aleysia… was only human.
* * *
“Oh dear, I seem to be a bit late.”
Right after Harun left, there was a knock, and the door opened. Aleysia quickly hid the dagger behind her back.
“I should’ve come a bit earlier.”
Crayton entered, saw Franz asleep, and addressed Aleysia.
“First Prince…”
She nervously knelt to him. But he waved his hand with a familiar smile.
“No need for such formality when it’s just the two of us.”
Crayton passed her and stood beside Franz’s bed. Aleysia swallowed dryly as she watched him examine Franz closely.
If he had arrived just a little earlier, it would’ve been a disaster.
As Harun had said, just moments ago the room looked like a storm had swept through it.
Thanks to Harun cleaning up, she could claim Franz had just gone to bed early.
Otherwise, Crayton might have found out that Franz had suffered a mana seizure.
He had seen Aleysia purifying mana at dinner, so he would’ve instantly realized the abnormality of the timing.
If that had happened, she wouldn’t be heading to the side palace—she’d be exiled to the Cold Palace.
“What brings you here?”
Aleysia forced a smile, pretending to be calm even as cold sweat ran down her spine.
“His Highness the Second Prince has just fallen asleep. I think you should come back tomorrow.”
Crayton turned from Franz to look at her.
He studied her carefully, observing her for a long moment. Then he tilted his head.
“Why do you call him the Second Prince? As if he’s not your husband, but just some stranger?”
Her heart sank at his unexpected remark.
It threw her off guard. She forced a smile, hoping her expression didn’t look too strained.
“Even in marriage, proper etiquette should be observed. Lady Glena also told me I lacked manners.”
“I see.”
Crayton nodded in understanding at the mention of Glena.
While Aleysia tried to calm herself down…
(Chapter ends here.)
