#018

Inside the Imperial Palace, filled only with brilliant gold, glass, and white, shining things, a bleak melancholy permeated. The footsteps of servants walking the corridors were quiet, and whispers of gossip echoed only from behind doors. As if knowing it was a time of sorrow, it rained for days in the usually sunny capital.

Sigmund Larkan had died.

Unlike Belarus Larkan, who was violent and committed massacres, everyone mourned the death of the Emperor, who had ruled the Empire without major issues with his gentle disposition.

To the people, Larkan was a representative of God. To commemorate the departure of the goddess’s descendant, white cloths were hung on the doors of every home.

The state funeral was held three days ago. The river surrounding the Royal Palace flowed across the continent and into the sea. After a funeral was held within the palace under the guidance of the High Priest, a ceremony was held where all the people of the capital gathered to bid farewell to the King.

Hundreds of round, moon-shaped paper lanterns were floated on the river. Along with the white lanterns that shimmered like flowers, a boat carrying the Emperor’s belongings was set ablaze and floated away.

As the Crown Prince, Cullen attended many events. In places mourning the death of someone he had no affection for, he guarded the coffin, met with priests, and stood beside Kihelene. His unmoving heart was hidden behind his expressionless face.

Kihelene, who had collapsed at the moment of the death announcement, repeatedly cried and fainted after the ceremony.

Fortunately, she had a loyal fiancé. Viscount Exion, with his gentle brown hair and warm green eyes, stayed by her side. Without even time to examine the man she met for the first time, Cullen had to leave Kihelene behind and prepare for other matters.

It was to become the next Emperor.

During the seven-day state funeral, Cullen did not see Kiyen. He did not show himself, and Cullen did not look for him either. The banquet was canceled along with the funeral, but it was for the best. He wanted to keep his distance from Kiyen anyway.

Kihelene’s words had not influenced him. Her claims felt like nothing more than excuses to justify the Imperial Family’s greed.

But separate from his thoughts, he needed time to create emotional distance from him.

Whenever he got entangled with him, some part of his heart softened.

Cullen often felt the urge to head to the forbidden palace where he resided. Even more so from the moment the title of Emperor was within reach. The pressure tightened around his throat.

Someone’s life could change with a single action of his. The weight of the Imperial Throne was too immense to be used merely as a tool. He was confident in killing and hunting Demonic Beasts, but he lacked confidence in ruling over others who had nothing to do with him.

How could a person who couldn’t even protect one of his own people be responsible for a nation?

Even if only for a moment, even if only for an instant, it was a contradiction for him to sit in such a position. An anxiety that he hadn’t felt when he revealed his birthday with a Dragon by his side now overwhelmed him.

More than anything, what followed Cullen was solitude.

The vast palace, the people bringing documents, his own self that no one truly knew.

Unlike Kihelene, who had lived her entire life here, Cullen was an outsider. As they said, his birth was different.

Cullen’s coronation was set for ten days later. Cullen received a report on the banquet plans from Duke Ruffellon and practiced distinguishing between documents and materials for him to approve. He didn’t even have time for his usual sparring practice.

It wasn’t until late at night that Cullen finally left the office. The place, filled with the traces of Former Emperor Sigmund, also held a small doodle left by Kihelene. Feeling the unpleasantness of being in someone else’s home, he announced he was retiring to his chambers and left the palace separately.

The Crown Prince’s Palace was quiet in the evening. He changed out of the restrictive uniform that had been suffocating him, into a simple shirt and leather pants.

He walked through the palace, muffling his footsteps and avoiding the eyes of the guards. He stopped near the kitchen where the Imperial Palace’s maids gathered.

“The Crown Prince should eat something today.”

“He’s not the Crown Prince anymore, he’s the Princess. Be careful with your words, the coronation is imminent.”

It was the voice of one of Kihelene’s maids. To the maid who cautioned her, someone else retorted.

“Honestly, I still can’t believe it. Did you hear? They say he was raised by commoners. No matter how you look at it, he’s no comparison to Lady Kihelene. How can someone like that rule this Empire?”

“That’s true, but…”

“Poor Lady Kihelene. She’s all alone now. They say the Crown Prince didn’t even show his face? After ascending, will he bring his commoner family and put them in important positions?”

“Unfortunate Lady Kihelene.”

Cullen listened to their words calmly. Half of it was true, half was false. As he was about to leave, someone else’s words stopped him.

“Besides, there are unsettling rumors going around lately. They say the country will fall if a prince who just appeared becomes Emperor.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“You don’t know? Since the Crown Prince changed, terrible things have happened below the capital. They say it’s all because the wrong bloodline ascended the throne. That’s all anyone outside the palace is talking about.”

“No, what is it? Tell me!”

“It’s not confirmed, but there are rumors that dead people have come back to life. It happened in the west. Where was it, a certain Marquess’s territory?”

“If it’s the west… isn’t that Marquess Exion’s territory?”

“Duke Ruffellon’s territory is also in the west.”

The dead have come back to life?

It was the first time he had heard this. It was an absurd story, but Cullen had experienced strange things with mercenaries. As Cullen tried to get closer to hear more, he heard voices behind him.

“The idle talk of subordinates only pollutes Your Highness’s ears. It’s just baseless rumor.”

He quickly stepped back. Perhaps he was too engrossed in the conversation, but he missed the presence. It wasn’t a common occurrence, so Cullen turned sharply with a wary expression. There stood a face he had seen for the first time not long ago. It was Silfir Exion.

“…Viscount?”

“It seems I have startled you. I apologize.”

Unlike when he was beside Kihelene, his green eyes were cold. The young Viscount, who had seemed equally distraught as Kihelene, now had a somber aura even in his expression.

“What are you doing here?”

The Viscount then gazed at Cullen for a moment.

“I came by hoping to bring something sweet for Helen. She skipped her meal again today.”

His voice, using an endearment, was gentle, but his expression as he looked at Cullen was cold. He was reprimanding Cullen. Was it a reprimand for his heartlessness in not visiting her since the funeral, or for stealing her position, he couldn’t tell.

“You didn’t send a servant.”

It was justifiable animosity. However, Silfir did not reveal any more rash remarks or emotions.

“Helen cannot yet tolerate loud noises, so I am taking care of it myself.”

“A devoted fiancé.”

“I’m glad it appears that way. She would be overjoyed if Your Highness were to visit. Helen is a kind person.”

The word “kind” echoed like a lingering image. The Viscount’s face, which had been stiff, softened slightly, and he continued speaking in a polite yet distant voice.

“If you are lost, I will guide you.”

“No, that’s alright.”

“Then I wish you a peaceful night.”

With someone else’s appearance, listening to the conversation here was meaningless anyway.

“Ah, speaking of which.”

As Cullen turned to leave, Viscount Exion added a remark.

“Duke Ruffellon seemed to be waiting for Your Highness.”

“I understand.”

The Viscount bowed his head. As if not to hold him back any longer, he turned and called for a servant from outside. The kitchen fell silent in an instant.

“Do not spread baseless rumors carelessly.”

A soft but stern scolding followed. Cullen left the scene behind him.

“You seem to have gone for a walk.”

Duke Ruffellon was waiting for Cullen in the reception room of the Crown Prince’s Palace. Cullen waved away the servant who greeted him and walked to the sofa. The Duke, who had entered the masterless palace without permission. Cullen swallowed a sneer behind his impassive face and said,

“Since you were here first, you should have sat down.”

At Cullen’s gesture, the Duke finally smiled and headed for the sofa. Only after Cullen sat down did the Duke also take a seat. Unlike the comforting feeling that seemed to melt his entire body, his heart felt utterly displeased and uncomfortable.

“I could not possibly do that.”

The Duke accepted it nonchalantly. A servant brought the bitter White Lantern Tea. It was in accordance with the tradition of abstaining from sweet and palatable foods throughout the palace during the mourning period.

These tea leaves, a specialty of the Duchy of Jenix, had been scarce for a while after the land burned. He heard they had only recently managed to replant them. It was a taste Cullen could tolerate.

“What is your business here so late at night?”

Knowing Cullen’s disposition, the servant directly inspected the tea for poison in front of him and measured out the leaves. After confirming the water was boiled correctly, he poured it over the tea leaves.

“I heard you have been skipping meals frequently. I was concerned you might harm yourself with grief.”

Cullen, having confirmed there was no issue with the tea, took hold of the teacup. He was not sad. The death of Emperor Sigmund held less significance than the death of his horse.

However, it was true that he had been skipping meals recently. The timing was strangely coincidental.

Suddenly, Kiyen’s cold face flashed in his mind. Cullen swallowed the tea, as if to erase it. The astringent taste cleared his head.

It tasted slightly sweeter than usual, but it was so faint that it disappeared after another sip.

Cullen gazed at the tea leaves and water for a moment. He had seen the attendant standing beside them brew it himself… was it a hallucination?

“I brought this, thinking you might miss your former home. I received it as a gift recently.”

Duke Ruffellon opened the gray box he had brought. On red velvet lay white herbs. It was dried herbs, thin like sticks, bundled together and tied with red thread.

“White Sage.”

It seemed like a gift from the Duke to capture the heart of the Crown Prince on the verge of his coronation.

“Yes, I brought this top-quality item that only grows in the north. As you know, there is nothing better for a tired mind and body.”

When burned, the bundled sage repels insects and aids sleep. In the summer, his mother would burn the herbs with the window slightly ajar. Sasha would run around the yard with a stick, and Roach would bark at it. The happiness of a shattered past covered his memories like a faint afterglow.

His pale hand trembled slightly. Cullen slowly reached out and picked up the bundle. Duke Ruffellon watched him and smiled.

“I will prepare a stand to light it.”

His voice was gentle. Cullen shook his head. A thin crack seemed to split somewhere within him.

“It’s alright.”

As the Duke said, White Sage was commonly used in Cullen’s hometown. His mind, inexplicably weary, was shaken by a memory.

Normally, he wouldn’t have accepted the sage, but…

“It’s late, so the Duke should also rest. I’m tired and want to go to bed.”

“You certainly should.”

The Duke, as always, stood up with a benevolent smile. His teacup was neatly emptied.

After seeing the Duke off, Cullen took the sage and headed to his chambers. Passing through the darkened corridor, he reached his bedroom, where silence greeted him.

Perched by the window, he lit the bundled sage, just as Sasha used to. The bundle, which he couldn’t grasp with the hands of a small boy and girl, could now be held with space left in his grip.

Cullen placed the incense beside him and quietly looked north. His heart felt hollow, as if a piece had been removed. Ignoring the encroaching solitude, Cullen leaned his forehead against the glass window.

Suddenly, Kiyen came to mind. Kihelene’s warning was mixed in as well.

Confusion lingered at his feet. Cullen sat by the window for a long time, and then lay down on the bed as the sage bundle brought by the Duke burned down completely.

And then, exactly one hour later, he opened his eyes.

His body felt strange.