Chapter 92
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: The Imperial Capital is Cursed
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The Imperial Capital is cursed.
It's a strangely captivating phrase when you hear it repeated.
It might pierce through people's anxieties as a rumor, but it's far too direct for such grim talk to spread just because of that.
As if someone had orchestrated it deliberately.
"Is it really something you hear just by strolling through the marketplace?"
Just why, who, how, and for what reason?
"That's what I have to uncover from now on, so I have no choice but to dig."
I strode forward purposefully to check on Princess Lilian's closest aides.
There are four suspects I suspect of being devil worshipper lackeys.
Silbeia, the stand-in; Knight Philia; the Head Maid; and finally, the aide.
One among them is plotting to kidnap or assassinate Princess Lilian.
However, I only know she's to be offered as a sacrifice—I don't know if she needs to be alive or if dead will do.
In that case, what I must do is not defend, but attack.
By launching an aggressive assault, I need to force the desperate ones into action and turn the tables.
I calmed my troubled eyes and sorted through the situation.
Excluding Silbeia, the rest of the closest aides hold real power for Princess Lilian.
Knight Philia commands the knights as her guard, the aide handles the secretaries, and the Head Maid oversees numerous maids.
"Of course, that means they're not easy for me to touch."
This mansion itself is touted as a safe house, yet it's a labyrinth where I can't identify the enemy.
But if there's a harder path, there's often an easier one in reverse.
"What brings you here?"
"It's the Head Maid."
The Head Maid stood waiting with her hands politely clasped where my gaze landed.
"Her Highness Princess Lilian commanded that there be no flaws in attending to Master Aiden. If you need anything, you can ask me or the maids on standby nearby..."
"Everything that goes through you ends up in your ears, doesn't it?"
"......"
"How did you know to wait here the moment I stepped into the corridor?"
When no answer came, I chuckled softly and brushed past the Head Maid.
Without a doubt, the maids cleaning the mansion busily had become her eyes and ears, reporting to her.
"I shall accompany you."
"Nonsense. As Head Maid, do you really need to attend me personally? You can just order your subordinates. There must be some reason you're following me yourself."
"......"
She followed in silence as her response, so I clicked my tongue and kept walking.
For her to openly reveal her intent to monitor me like this—beyond being disconcerting, it was intriguing.
It was like wanting to poke at an annoying leech.
"Follow or surveil all you want, I won't complain, but if you interfere with my business, you'll have to bear the wrath that comes with it."
"...I shall take note."
While Princess Lilian was handling official duties personally in response to my words, Silbeia—the princess's stand-in—was essentially under house arrest in the mansion.
No matter how favorably you viewed it, Silbeia was Princess Lilian's replica. When the princess stepped forward, she had nothing left to do.
If she wandered about or acted in ways that let people see someone too similar to the princess, rumors would spread that harmed Princess Lilian's prestige.
Thus, Silbeia's existence was top secret.
Even if Silbeia moved of her own volition, she was little more than a substitute for Princess Lilian, not herself.
A self without a self.
A true "me" that no one recognized.
An eternal shadow.
More like the princess than anyone, she lived a princess-like life, yet was forever doomed never to become one.
I trudged toward the room where Silbeia was staying.
The Head Maid trailed feebly behind.
"I don't know how she feels about that life herself..."
She was on such friendly terms that she called Princess Lilian "Lil," and though she was just a proxy standing in for dangerous speeches, she received her own form of treatment.
Perhaps Silbeia herself felt that hardship but endured it with stoic indifference.
But that was none of my concern.
"Are you in?"
"Huh? Who might you be?"
Silbeia, perhaps reading a book, opened the door with a disheveled look.
"It's Professor Aiden?"
Her innocent reception, oblivious to the danger heading her way, unwittingly drew a smile from me.
Silbeia felt a sense of dissonance from the sudden shift in atmosphere but couldn't easily turn Aiden away.
It was partly because he'd already crossed the threshold when she thought to ask him to leave, but more so the extraordinary aura he exuded.
Her body chilled, hair standing on end, and she stepped back briefly—only for Aiden, now right before her, to block her path.
"W-What is it?"
Behind Aiden stood the Head Maid, rooted in place.
A few exchanged glances told her this wasn't planned but a sudden whim.
The Head Maid had merely followed when Aiden abruptly acted.
"Head Maid, I'd appreciate it if you locked the door."
"Th-That..."
Silbeia startled.
"Lock the door? Why? What for?"
Professor Aiden flashed a noticeable sneer.
"Or would you rather leave? Don't you have to report to that Knight Philia later? To avoid any talk afterward, you should watch my actions closely, no?"
The Head Maid noticeably wavered.
Locking the door here would be tacit approval of not interfering with Aiden's actions.
Normally, she'd decide easily, but Aiden's demeanor was too unusual to ignore.
This man, usually expressionless, now wore a faint smile.
If it were mere good mood, fine—but a chilling sensation made her skin crawl, fur prickling.
"...I..."
"Lock it. I'm just taking the easy path; even if it's hard, I'm prepared to walk it."
His words carried a threat: fail to comply, and the target changes.
The Head Maid hesitated, then squeezed her eyes shut.
Click.
"Head Maid!"
Silbeia cried out in shock.
Reading the eerie tension, her panicked eyes darted about wildly.
"Professor Aiden, I don't understand this situation at all—what on earth is going on..."
She babbled incoherently, eventually venting not at Aiden but elsewhere.
In contrast, Aiden leisurely sat in a spare chair as if it were his own room, pointing to the remaining one.
"...Pardon?"
"Sit."
"No, I..."
"You'd better sit while I'm asking nicely."
He tapped the desk insistently, urging her.
Unable to resist, Silbeia sat, and Aiden began his sticky interrogation, as if finally ready to talk.
He started with casual chit-chat.
"Aren't you bored?"
"Bored?"
"When Princess Lilian steps up, you have nothing to do."
Knowing Professor Aiden wasn't one to care about others made it all the more ominous.
"No, I'm fine. I like this rest."
"Really?"
"Yes, really.
Haha...
A cold laugh echoed flatly, like a dagger sheathed in frost.
Silbeia soon grasped the source of this foreboding.
The predator's gaze fixed on her.
Lips parched with fear, she breathed raggedly.
"That can't be. You can't even phrase it nicely. A life forever in the princess's shadow, destined to fade away."
"...What! No, no. What reason could you have for saying that..."
"Or what?"
His slit pupils, like a viper's, pierced her skin sharply.
"Don't feel pressured," he said softly, exchanging words gently, yet his unsmiling eyes tightened her throat.
"Used as the princess's replacement? Or living a princess-like life but never truly becoming one? No one truly calls your name or knows you?"
"Pressuring me like this!"
"Or maybe the princess finds you increasingly useless."
Silbeia stiffened at that.
Aiden's smile twisted.
Less pleased, more mocking—like ridicule eating at one's heart.
"The princess no longer needs you. In a few years, you'll be discarded. Then your place will be some remote rural backwater."
"Such wedge-driving won't work!"
"Face reality. The princess can handle her role perfectly now. She no longer needs you."
"...What exactly are you trying to ask?"
For the first time since starting, Aiden's eyes narrowed.
"Very few know Princess Lilian has a stand-in. Body type, speech, habits, face—not to mention."
He interlocked his fingers and leaned forward.
That single motion shifted the atmosphere entirely.
From a bomb on the verge of explosion to an earthquake shaking someone's foundation to its roots.
"Have you colluded with the traitor?"
"...I can't bear you hurling suspicions like this anymore! Leave. At least to say such things, you need solid proof..."
"You seem mistaken. If I had clear evidence, I'd have punished you already—no need for this hassle. And another mistake you're making..."
He paused long, then reclined against the chair back.
From his relaxed pose, his gleaming eyes bored into Silbeia.
"I don't particularly need material proof."
"Pardon?"
No need for proof? What does that...
"Conversely, do I really need to let you all live and send you off?"
'What?'
Silbeia and the Head Maid shrank back simultaneously.
"A traitor definitely exists among you. The rest might be innocent, or new colluders. What's certain is the traitor is one of you."
"Then you should confirm the truth more firmly..."
"Frankly, burying you all and closing the case would suffice."
His upturned lips, like a reversed crescent moon, approached with utmost eeriness.
"It's just unseemly, so I refrain—truth or whatever isn't important. What matters is my conviction that you intend harm to the princess."
"Why on earth would I! Hurt Lil!"
She ruffled her hair in madness.
From bloodshot eyes and disheveled locks flowed faint mania.
"I'll ask again. Did you abet Princess Lilian's death to become real from the shadow life? Colluded with the traitor?"
"No!!"
Incomprehension choked her; she exhaled.
Hot breath from her lungs filled the space.
"How many times must I say no!"
Unlike Silbeia's scream, Aiden remained serene.
"Head Maid!!"
Silbeia's blood-veined eyes locked on the Head Maid.
That raw fury and resentment pierced her; the Head Maid's breath hitched.
"This is... um."
"Are you right-handed or left-handed?"
Without turning, Aiden smiled brightly at Silbeia.
As if to say, relax—but his eyes were murderously cold.
As tension and menace peaked, Silbeia's bafflement grew at his inscrutable actions.
He couldn't expect her to spill easily like this.
No, anyone without clear evidence wouldn't fall for such leading interrogation that tightens the noose...
'Right or left-handed—why?'
"Your expression says right-handed. Princess Lilian is right-handed too."
"Why does that..."
Aiden seized Silbeia's left hand.
The soft fabric of his white glove brushed her palm, bringing slaughterous dread that stole her breath.
Crack.
"Uh, uwa? A, ugh."
Her finger bent in an unnatural direction, visible.
She barely suppressed boiling saliva and surging screams; her reddened eyes beheld...
"Don't worry. Today, just the left hand. Speak if you want; if not, fine."
Professor Aiden grinned.
"I'll ask again. Did you collude with the traitor?"
Four fingers remained.