Chapter 89
Sian knew.
He knew how kind she was—how she could shine like light even in front of someone as vile as him.
And above all, April was pure to the point of being called a foolish young lady.
But when you actually spent time talking with her, it was clear she wasn’t unintelligent or lacking in perception.
She simply did what she wanted, said what she wanted, and didn’t bend to suit others.
That difference, that difficulty in communicating like normal people, was what earned her the nickname “the foolish lady.”
And, for an adult, she was almost absurdly innocent.
“Are you implying Lady April did something? I refuse to listen to such talk.”
He frowned.
Even Yenniel’s indirect insinuations made no sense to him.
“Then do you mean to say Lady Yenniel believes Lady April has cursed His Highness?”
Judging from her expression, that wasn’t it.
Yenniel clearly didn’t think that was possible.
“A curse master must be cold. Rational and composed—that’s the only way it works. Does Lady April strike you as that type?”
They’d all seen April far too long in society.
Over six years since her debut, and only now she’d supposedly been hiding her “true nature”?
What an absurd, baseless claim. Utterly ridiculous.
“Then what other possibility is there?”
“Ah, Lady Yenniel. I understand now. What it is you’re trying to confirm.”
Yenniel was difficult to read—she thought in ways others couldn’t even imagine.
And she planned on such a grand scale that by the time you realized you were a piece on her board, the game had already begun.
The story of how three-year-old Yenniel had playfully caught the Emperor’s attention in the street and solved one of his worries was famous throughout the palace.
And yet, there were also rumors—conspiracies—that she had deliberately led the Emperor to her domain, that she’d made her father the Crown Prince’s tutor for her own ends.
No one believed them.
But they were true.
The most terrifying part was that Yenniel herself had spread those rumors.
For her own gain? To ensnare those who hated her?
Not at all.
She’d traced those whispers back to uncover traitors plotting rebellion against the Emperor.
When the Emperor met Yenniel, it had been in June and again in August; those who hadn’t heard about the June meeting turned out to be the conspirators.
They’d claimed they’d gone swan hunting.
But swans were rearing their young in June—hunting them was impossible.
So, when asked what they’d done by the river instead, their explanations didn’t match the geography.
Evidence was found, and the conspirators and collaborators were purged.
Sian spoke with a cold sneer.
“You’re worried I’ll betray you. That I’ve slipped out of your control, so you came to see whether I’d still listen—or if I’ve stolen something, perhaps.”
“That’s not what I thought.”
Her expression was perfect—appropriately sympathetic, faintly regretful.
Sian found her terrifying. Panic fluttered in his chest as he asked,
“How far does your suspicion go? Do you doubt Issengriff’s loyalty? Or perhaps—”
He lowered his voice.
“Did you figure out what’s hidden in this mansion—the Aquilium? Are you trying to test me because you’re deciding whether to withdraw from the royal line? Or… do you perhaps know of another candidate for the throne? A secret imperial bastard, maybe?”
“That’s too much of a stretch. No one would think that, my lord.”
No one—except Yenniel could. And Sian knew that.
But she said clearly,
“I serve the Crown Prince. Just like you do, Sir Sian.”
The meaning was clear.
She intended to conceal the truth—that the first Emperor, Aquilium, had been illegitimate.
A truth that would stain the Empire’s thousand-year history.
Yenniel’s tone was casual, almost serene.
“I only wanted to confirm one thing—the variable. My only variable.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Sian felt a chill run down his spine.
“And Sir Sian,” she said, smiling with a touch of gentle warmth,
“You have no right to interrogate me like this.”
Her next words froze him.
“You were the second, you know.”
Goosebumps rose along his arms.
“If I was the first, you were the second. You remember, don’t you?”
He did. He remembered agreeing with her before anyone else.
Sian stepped back.
“I’ll be going now.”
“Yes. Please make sure the equivalents are properly checked.”
The words clung to him like a sticky shadow.
“Lady April! Are you unharmed?”
“Yes! Sir Sian!”
She smiled brightly as she looked at the returning strategist.
She hesitated, wondering whether to sheath her new dagger, then decided to just store it in her inventory for now.
Still, why did he look so pale?
“Oh my, Sir Sian, are you feeling ill? You look white as a sheet.”
She giggled.
Sian awkwardly fixed his expression, smoothing back his hair.
“No, I’m fine. I just had a rather… strange conversation inside. Heard some impossible things.”
“Impossible? What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing, my lady.”
She tilted her head innocently.
Time to head out soon—she had to give the newly obtained potion to Evelin.
Then Sian asked,
“Lady April, just in case—nothing unusual happened while you were guarding the tower, did it?”
“Nope!”
“Nothing new appeared, either?”
“Nothing like that!”
“I see…”
Right. Nothing happened.
She didn’t think of herself as a particularly good liar.
Sian just believed her.
Maybe because he thought she was too naïve, too harmless—someone so foolish she could even die by his own hand.
But Sian never apologized.
He bore the guilt, heavy as it was, and still changed nothing.
Hypocrite. Then again, she wasn’t much different—lying to him like this.
And then—
Boom! Boom! Bang!
A thunderous crash echoed through the air.
Suddenly, a knight on horseback appeared on the battlefield.
‘Oh. Looks dangerous. Kinda gives off the same vibe as that curse master.’
To her, it was merely interesting. Just the next monster to deal with.
It exuded the same kind of energy the curse master had—something dark and sickly.
“Cough—! Hhk—!”
As soon as the creature appeared, Sian began gasping violently, coughing hard enough to double over.
He tried to straighten but couldn’t seem to recover.
“Lady April…”
“Sir Sian! What should I do? You’re sick!”
“I’m fine. I’ll… head back to the banquet hall, check on the others. Sir Max is tending to His Highness, but I’m uneasy. Cough, cough! Damn it, what is that monster…?”
“Hurry, go!”
She thought she knew, vaguely, what it was.
She ran down toward the creature.
This wasn’t one of the normal monsters from standard mode.
But it carried the same aura as the curse master—so it must be related to curses.
Then she looked up at the newly appeared system window she hadn’t yet answered.
Would you like to give the limited number of potions (Rare Item)?
▷ Yes
▶ No
Limited Potion (Rare Item): Restores a companion weakened and incapacitated by the ‘Enfeeblement’ Curse!
Only four.
Meaning, effectively, she could only save one side.
If the fallen were victims of the Enfeeblement Curse, then only those who hadn’t been cursed—like Sian—could administer it.
Protagonist Faction – Yenniel, attendant Max, strategist Sian
Villainess Faction – enslaved knight Yurel, Grand Duke Kyle
Who would she give them to?
The answer was obvious.
