TFM 237

No one want to see your face twins 👎

Perhaps because he was reluctant to come any closer, Varkas, who had been standing by the door, placed the ledger he was carrying onto the desk and raised his head to look at him.

“What is it?”

His gaunt complexion stood in contrast to his composed, unshaken expression.

For a moment, Edric felt a strange pang of guilt, but he soon shook it off and strode toward the desk.

Though he looked noticeably drawn, the man was holding up fairly well.

Ever since her funeral ended, he had carried out every duty expected of him as grand duke perfectly, without leaving even the smallest gap. Recently, he had even begun investigating the forces behind those who had supported the Zram people.

Gathering the Zram scattered throughout the eastern region and transforming them into a massive armed force was not something House Heimdall’s power alone could have accomplished. Convinced that outside forces had intervened, Varkas had mobilized House Siorkan’s intelligence network and begun stripping away the layers surrounding the incident. Not even his wife’s sudden death had managed to shatter his ironclad reason.

Feeling a bitterness rise in his mouth, Edric took the bundle of papers tucked inside his coat and placed it on the desk.

“It’s a report sent by the agents dispatched to Balbon. They say Balbon’s central order is trying to cut off the tail by shifting all responsibility for this incident onto a high-ranking priest named Alwon.”

Varkas picked up the report and slowly skimmed through it.

The reason Biore had been able to disguise himself as one of the holy temple guards was because the central order had guaranteed his identity.

The identification badge he had submitted, the dispatch certificate bearing the seal of the central order, and even the appointment letter marked with the insignia of the temple guard had all been examined thoroughly, but not a single one had been forged.

In other words, this meant there was someone among the high priests of the central order who had communicated with the rebel forces.

And yet the Church seemed intent on burying the incident by excommunicating several high-ranking clergy members who had personally signed the official documents.

“It seems the imperial family has no intention of launching a full investigation either. At this rate, I suspect some sort of…under-the-table agreement may have taken place between His Majesty and His Holiness the Pope.”

“What makes you think that?”

“According to the information I gathered, the two of them finished a private meeting immediately after the succession ceremony. Circumstantially, it appears they agreed to cover this matter up at that time.”

Having turned the final page of the report, Varkas lowered his gaze thoughtfully to the candle resting on the desk.

Each time the flame flickered, the shadow cast over his face deepened, then softened again.

After a long silence, the man, who had been pressing his lips together as though his eyes had sunk into a dark stillness, finally spoke.

“For now, have a written appeal sent to the central order demanding an explanation sufficient to convince us. You continue keeping a close watch on the movements in the capital.”

“Understood.”

Edric bowed respectfully and slowly turned away.

Just as he was about to leave the room, an inexplicable impulse seized him, and he threw out a sudden question.

“…Are you truly all right, Your Grace?”

The man, who had been taking out a new official document, looked at him with a puzzled gaze.

“Why would you ask that all of a sudden?”

At that expression, as though he could not understand the intent behind the question, Edric felt himself at a momentary loss for words.

After hesitating, he said,

“It’s just… you don’t look well…”

“Given the circumstances, I can’t deny that I’m rather exhausted, both physically and mentally.”

The grand duke, who was casually scrawling his signature across the documents piled in layers before him, added in a calm tone,

“Still, now that the succession ceremony has been completed without issue, I should be able to catch my breath soon.”

At the answer that seemed somehow slightly off the mark, Edric grimaced.

Varkas nonchalantly opened a new set of papers and said,

“You’ve worked hard as well. Hold out only until then.”

Then he gave a light wave of one hand, as though telling him to withdraw.

Feeling uneasy at that oddly impassive manner, Edric was just about to say something when a hurried presence approached, followed by a knock at the door.

Varkas raised his head and looked toward it.

“What is it?”

“It’s Daren, Your Grace. There is an urgent matter I must report.”

A faint crease formed between Varkas’s brows. He set down the documents and leaned back against his chair.

“Come in.”

The door opened quickly, as if afraid his permission might be revoked, and a knight of sturdy build stepped into the office. Edric promptly moved aside.

Without even giving Edric a glance, the knight strode straight up to Varkas.

“His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived at Kalmor after leading the royal guards there.”

Edric, who had been quietly moving aside, flinched and looked back at him.

The knight continued in a grave voice.

“He says he has come to aid in restoring the damage in the east and stabilizing public order… What should we do?”

Varkas, who had been pressing his tired eyes as though weary, straightened with a heavy sigh.

“He is not someone we can leave standing outside the gates. The crown prince of the empire has personally come here, and with proper courtesy at that. We have no choice but to receive him.”

Then he took the coat hanging on the wall, put it on, and stepped out into the corridor with a gait far too youthful for his age.

Edric stood there blankly, watching his back, before finally turning and heading toward the stairs at the end of the corridor.

Still, during his time as a knight of the Royal Guard, he had once sided with Thalia Roem Guirta, which meant he had fallen out of the crown prince’s favor. On top of that, he had left the Royal Guard and entered the grand ducal household, so it would be best not to catch the crown prince’s eye if possible.

He pulled his hood over his head and quietly slipped out of the main building. Then he climbed up onto the watchtower connected to the inner wall and approached the front of the castle.

Before long, he spotted the crown prince entering through the main gate.

As always, the crown prince sat proudly atop his golden horse, leading several hundred knights of the Royal Guard as he crossed the parade ground. He looked so imposing and dignified that it was hard to believe he was the same person who had once plunged the empire into crisis with his reckless actions.

Edric let out a hollow laugh as he followed the procession with his eyes, only to freeze when he saw the face of the woman entering behind him.

Even from a considerable distance, he had no difficulty recognizing who she was.

Aila Roem Guirta.

The woman who would now remain as the empire’s one and only princess.

With the help of the knights, she descended from her horse and passed through the inner gate with elegant, dignified steps, standing side by side with her older twin brother.

Watching the hundreds of household servants who had gathered before the main castle bow in unison to greet their guests, Edric felt something surge up from within him and quickly turned away.

It had not even been a month since the grand duchess had passed away, yet the sight of the crown prince arriving with the princess in tow filled him with an unbearable nausea.

Suppressing that revulsion, he moved along the castle wall and came to a halt before the railing overlooking the courtyard.

At one side of the garden, where the green grass grew thick and lush, he saw two gravestones standing side by side. Feeling his chest suddenly tighten, he closed his eyes.

Thinking of the woman who had lived her short life in cold treatment and loneliness, a hollow helplessness swept through his entire body.

Edric drew in a long breath, as though casting that feeling away, then turned away and began walking with the chapel at his back.

***

“It has been a long time.”

He looked down expressionlessly at the woman smiling with grace.

Though she wore an air of composure, he had no difficulty noticing that her body was tense. As though trying to conceal her agitation, the woman straightened her head again and again, then went on in a confident tone.

“Seeing you so unharmed finally puts my heart at ease. You have no idea how worried I was when I heard you had been wounded in the war.”

“…What brings you here?”

At the heartless question, the woman’s face stiffened faintly for a moment.

Gareth, stepping forward as though to shield her from such humiliation, spoke in a tense voice.

“We have come on behalf of the imperial family. His Majesty ordered us to convey his condolences regarding the tragic incidents that occurred in the east, and to lend strength to House Siorkan.”

“……”

“To repay all the hard work you have done for the empire until now, the imperial family intends to spare no effort in helping restore Kalmor.”

From inside his doublet, lavishly embroidered with ornate stitching, the crown prince took out a personal letter bearing the emperor’s seal and held it out.

Varkas accepted it, opened the envelope, and swiftly skimmed the words written on the parchment. As Gareth had said, the letter contained a formal message of brief condolences for the catastrophe in the east, followed by an orderly list of promises for enormous financial support.

He rolled the parchment back up, handed it to a chamberlain standing by, and turned away with an indifferent air.

“I understand His Majesty’s will. For now, please come inside.”