Chapter 9
“This is the place.”
Cedric led Kaian to the end of the short second-floor corridor and gently gestured toward the wooden wall. A small framed painting depicting a seaside view hung there.
As Cedric removed the frame, the wall revealed the intricate emblem Kaian had been searching for—the exact same design engraved on his mother’s safe.
“I’ve searched elsewhere for additional traces, but so far, nothing has turned up,” Cedric added, though Kaian barely heard him.
He ran his cautious fingers along the design. The fine lines carved into the wood grain felt remarkably crisp and detailed.
This emblem was the only one of its kind discovered across the continent. It seemed like one of the few remnants his mother had left behind in this world.
As Kaian traced the intricate lines, the wall suddenly gave way, forming a shallow indentation.
‘There’s something here.’
Sensing the irregularity, he pressed further, and the wall rotated partially along its vertical axis, revealing a hidden compartment behind it.
‘A secret mechanism in a place like this?’
Even the imperial palace and noble estates often had hidden devices, yet such a contraption in this modest forest cabin seemed entirely out of place.
The place grew increasingly suspicious.
“Your Majesty, I shall inspect first,” Cedric said.
“Very well.”
Kaian stepped inside. Instantly, the torch mounted on the wall ignited, casting light throughout the room.
‘This room is protected with intricate magic.’
A bookcase along the left wall stood empty, while the right wall featured a large map of the Rekanto Empire. The wall directly ahead displayed a portrait.
Kaian approached to examine it more closely.
It was a family portrait.
A man and woman, dressed in a deep navy formal gown and suit, sat on an elegant chair, with a swaddled infant in their midst.
The wealth and refinement radiated from the painting, yet Kaian’s gaze fixated on the child. Its eyes, reminiscent of pink sapphire, mirrored those of Empress Serena.
The emblem matching the one on the safe… and a baby whose eyes resembled his mother’s.
Kaian could not believe such details coincided by chance.
‘Mother… what secrets were you hiding?’
Who were these people? What was the connection between this secluded cabin and his mother? And if the child in the portrait was indeed his mother, how had a girl seemingly born into nobility become a mistreated palace dancer?
A thousand questions tangled in Kaian’s mind.
Despite searching further for clues, nothing else of significance was found.
“My apologies, Your Majesty, but we must depart soon,” Cedric said after some time.
Since this was not an official inspection, the Emperor could not remain away from the palace for long—especially with the Foundation Festival just around the corner.
“Select reliable men to continue investigating this place until I return,” Kaian instructed.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
He planned to complete the festival, buy himself some time with a suitable pretext, and return to Aren later.
Once the secret mechanism was restored, Kaian left the cabin, his steps reluctant but steady.
“What…?”
Outside, he noticed a small child—a boy of perhaps three or four years old.
Tears glistened in the child’s flushed eyes, as though he had been on the verge of crying. Yet upon seeing Kaian, his gaze brightened with curiosity and determination.
“Hello! I’m Ae’r from Fore Kindergarten! I got lost in the forest! Please help me!”
Where had the child come from?
In this remote forest, he had appeared fearlessly, calling out in a clear, confident voice.
Kaian’s gaze sharpened as he looked at Ae’r. The child’s deep blue eyes unconsciously reminded him of Estelle.
‘He must be crazy… seeing the Empress even in a rural commoner child.’
Kaian tried to shake off the thought, but it was difficult. The child’s gaze was not only blue like Estelle’s—it carried her determined, calm, and strong tone, unusual for one so young.
‘If we had an heir, could it have been a child like this?’
Though Kaian had never seen Estelle this young, the boy seemed exactly as she might have been.
‘Quite bold.’
The child showed no fear even when staring directly at Kaian. Since his ascension, Kaian had rarely encountered children who met his gaze so unwaveringly.
‘Usually, they’d all be crying or clinging to their parents.’
Children from noble families often visited the palace with their fathers, trembling or crying upon seeing the Emperor. But this boy was different.
Even though he did not know Kaian’s identity, Kaian was a Swordmaster. Many grown men could not withstand his presence for long. Yet the boy gazed up at him steadily, unafraid.
A remarkable child.
“So, you wish to research a cure for a rodent-borne infectious disease?” Zeon asked.
“Yes. I’ve heard that a young physician from Aren named Sordan is highly skilled in this field, but I have yet to locate anyone matching the rumors. I wish to cooperate with him with Rodalan’s help.”
Estelle’s voice was calm, though her heart raced.
Not only had Zephyion not discerned that she was playing ignorant, but now she spoke of a disease that had not yet appeared. In her previous life, as his lord, he might have obeyed unconditionally—but now, there was no guarantee he would follow her request.
Conversely, she needed his cooperation. She risked exposing her identity to the Duke or being forced to flee again, but it was a gamble necessary for the child.
“Guildmaster, you realize creating a cure in six months for a disease whose name is unknown is no small feat.”
“I understand. Is there a reward you seek?”
“Anything, as long as you grant it.”
“Within the bounds of my ability. I cannot promise falsehoods in any partnership.”
Their conversation was like a tense battle—nimble spears clashing against sturdy shields.
Their eyes met across the room, silence stretching between them.
“Very well. If I can bring Sordan to you, you may dedicate two afternoons per week to me until the cure is complete.”
Unexpected.
‘I had hoped to avoid too much face-to-face interaction.’
If this were mere wealth secured by the guild, she might have welcomed it. But this was not the case.
“I expected you might desire gold or trade goods, such as glassware from Deutsche Island,” Estelle said, attempting subtle persuasion.
“Extraordinary allies are more valuable than immediate wealth.”
Even with her hints, Zeon was not easily swayed. Recognizing this, Estelle proposed a more precise condition.
“Two full afternoons are too long. How about two weekdays, from 1:00 to 3:30?”
She could not extend past Ae’r’s kindergarten dismissal. Longer sessions increased the risk of exposing her secrets or being discovered by the Duke.
“Furthermore, I will not spread rumors. The location shall be limited to this reception room.”
If unavoidable, she would use the situation to read his intentions instead, in an environment favorable to her.
“Very well, Guildmaster. I will bring the person you seek as soon as possible.”
Zeon agreed without objection.
“Shall we conclude for today? It seems you have other appointments.”
As expected. He was adept at reading others, particularly Estelle.
Normally, Estelle would have shown no opening—but with Ae’r involved, she had unconsciously glanced at the clock.
“Thank you for your consideration, Zeon. I apologize for the disarray today. Let us meet properly next time.”
“Yes, Guildmaster.”
Estelle personally saw Zeon out and returned to the reception room.
‘Just a little longer, then I can fetch the child.’
Though she wanted to retrieve Ae’r immediately, she feared being followed. Zeon might already know, but she chose to be cautious.
