Chapter 79
Eileen couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from at first.
“…No way—”
“It isn’t ‘no way.’”
The wooden bird sitting on the shelf suddenly hopped down onto the table.
Eileen truly flinched—she couldn’t help it.
She didn’t know how it worked, but the little bird even flapped its wings like a real one. Its shiny, black-painted eyes made it look uncannily alive.
“My goodness…”
This world barely had any real magic.
But seeing something like this made her question that.
“You must’ve been busy.”
“I’ve been very busy.”
She didn’t need to ask who it was.
Just listening to the voice, she could almost picture his faintly curved lips and cold grey-blue eyes—Prince Theorn of Arwin.
“I was busy too. No one bothered to tell me my half-brother was going to be born.”
“Oh, that.”
“That?”
His sharp remark flew at her, but Eileen ignored the tone and leaned forward, inspecting the bird from both sides.
“You didn’t even try to pretend you didn’t know the Third Prince was coming.”
“You didn’t ask. So I didn’t answer.”
“You realize that’s the perfect definition of sophistry, right?”
“Well, you weren’t going to kill the child in the queen’s womb anyway.”
Eileen lifted the bird. It was made of solid wood, yet the way it tilted its head felt strangely natural.
“Can it actually fly?”
“Of course. Don’t shake it. My vision tilts when you do that.”
“I can’t even see you.”
“That’s my privilege.”
His tone implied, If you’re jealous, you should’ve been born into the Arwin royal family instead.
Eileen and the bird stared at each other in silence.
“…You really didn’t hurt the child, right?”
“And knowing earlier would’ve helped in what way? Just mental preparation?”
“It’s uncomfortable how well you know me.”
“Blame the goddess you serve. It’s probably her doing.”
Eileen sighed and set the bird back down.
None of this information—about Theorn and the Arwin royal mess—was helpful to her life here.
“You sound like you want to blame her yourself.”
Eileen looked away, walking toward the window. The bird fluttered and landed on the sill beside her.
“You must have a reason for suddenly calling me.”
“I was just wondering if you were doing well.”
“Don’t give answers we both know are lies.”
The cynical voice didn’t match the cute bird at all. She would’ve laughed if the situation weren’t serious.
“I know the Third Prince was born because of the Queen’s affair… that the Queen poisoned your father to hide it… all while you were away from the kingdom. I also know the kingdom splits into First-Prince and Third-Prince factions.”
“You drop unbelievable statements so casually.”
“They’re true. Whether you believe them is up to you.”
“My father really picked an excellent second wife.”
Eileen ignored his sarcastic muttering.
She knew all of this—yet…
Her eyes shifted toward Chester Lowell, crossing the training grounds.
“But I don’t know my own future,” she murmured. “Other than the fact that I was supposed to break off my engagement with Cedric. Isn’t that unfair?”
“That too is the goddess’s will.”
His tone sounded mocking.
Eileen glared at the bird.
It puffed up its wings like a person shrugging.
“To remind you—people don’t know their own futures.”
“Don’t give me something that obvious.”
“And even gods may not be all-powerful. They might have limits.”
As always, Theorn spoke irreverently of the divine without a second thought.
“Maybe it’s not that she didn’t want to tell you. Maybe she can’t see the Empire clearly. She is Arwin’s goddess, after all. Not the whole continent.”
It was an unexpected perspective.
Eileen fell silent, thinking.
If the “original story” she knew was the goddess sending her visions…
And those visions stopped at the borders of Arwin…
“Then why tell me the future?”
“To prevent internal chaos in Arwin?”
“Then she could’ve just told the citizens of Arwin. Or you.”
Why drag someone like her—someone stuck between Arwin and the Empire—into this?
“So you contacted me to complain to the goddess.”
“…Right now, I feel like too many problems are piling up here in Lowell. I don’t even know if the path I’m taking is the right one.”
The wooden bird turned its head toward the window, following her gaze. Then Theorn spoke again:
“You’re wary of that man, aren’t you? The Baron of Demicalon? He is a violent one.”
“You know him?”
“His land borders Arwin and the Zenith Kingdom. Of course I know.”
Eileen’s feelings about Chester Lowell were complicated.
‘Uncle is fine.’
Maybe Cedric was simply being stubbornly optimistic like he always was.
But Chester was Cedric’s only remaining family. Their bond was deeply rooted—built over years. Doubting him felt impossible for Cedric.
‘My father said it… It was practically his last request.’
Your shortcomings can be filled by your uncle.
That very trust was now a shackle holding Cedric back.
I know.
You know?
I know I have to do better.
Cedric sometimes aimed for an unreachable ideal. Even now, she didn’t know what he meant to “do better.”
“I can’t fix anything for you. But I can call you to the border if you want.”
His tone suggested, Do you want me to?
Eileen looked at the bird on the sill. It tilted its head as if waiting for her answer.
“How?”
“You’ll understand when the time comes. Is that enough?”
It sounded… almost concerned. Probably just her imagination.
Still—she didn’t reject the help. Removing even one worry would help.
But one thing bothered her.
“You don’t help for free.”
“You just paid me. Information about the Third Prince.”
Ah. He counted that as fair payment. Fine by her.
“And besides—preventing chaos is likely the goddess’s intention anyway.”
“I wish I could make guesses that easily.”
Before the bird returned to its inanimate form, Theorn left her with a sentence she couldn’t interpret:
“I’ll file your complaint. Can’t promise the goddess will listen.”
What was he planning? A visit to the temple?
“See you around.”
“Wait—”
But he was already gone.
The bird froze into plain carved wood again.
“He really does whatever he wants…”
She didn’t try calling him back. He’d probably just talk in circles.
For now, she wanted to put her worries down.
***
A huge building was burning.
Flames roared, hot enough for Eileen to feel the heat even from far away.
What… is this…?
But she didn’t feel real danger.
So she knew—it was a dream.
In the next moment, the burning structure collapsed into piles of ash.
Ash drifted from the sky like snow.
Everything was blurred like fog—everything except the burned ruin.
What’s that?
Something lay in the center of the debris.
At first she couldn’t tell what it was… but then she realized:
A human face.
A person was pinned beneath the wreckage.
Nothing else survived the fire—but the face looked untouched.
Clear enough to recognize…
Don’t go closer, Eileen.
Don’t look. It’s a dream. Just a dream.
But she walked forward anyway—as if pulled by something.
She hated herself for it.
But she had to see whose face it was.
The blue eyes that always looked at her so clearly—
were gone.
Silent eyelids covered them.
Eileen screamed—no sound came out—and stumbled backward.
She fell—
“Cedric!”
Her eyes shot open.
The ceiling came into focus. She was awake.
She sat up. The blanket fell off her shoulders. Her breath came in harsh gasps, like she had been holding it the whole time.
She pushed her hair back with shaky hands.
She couldn’t shake the image of Cedric from the dream.
The more she thought about it, the more the sickening fear returned.
“What a horrible dream…”
It had to be because of that cursed conversation with Prince Theorn.
He must’ve planted the dread in her subconscious.
“…What?”
But then she looked toward the window.
Outside—real flames lit up the darkness.
Eileen froze. Then she jumped out of bed.
Shouting and frantic footsteps echoed through the manor.
The fire wasn’t a dream.
