Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Foretold Civil War
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Knock, knock knock.
The sound of something tapping on the window continued. Rachel had no desire to check what was knocking on the second-floor window.
Actually, there had been a similar situation in the game.
In the 10th loop, when she had been holed up in Henri's study on the second floor—a safe place she'd never had any incidents in during the game—a thump would sound when she pulled back the blackout curtain.
That's when Rachel would spot the fallen note and bend down to pick it up, only for a white ghost to scurry past the window like a spider. The player could see it, but the in-game Rachel remained oblivious to whatever had gone by.
The eerie sight had sent the chat exploding, and now that exact game scene came to mind.
'Go away. Go!'
Even as she pulled the blanket over her head and pretended not to hear, the noise didn't stop. The steady tapping seemed to have woken Henri, as she felt him stirring.
"What is it?"
He appeared to have gotten up. The footsteps she'd heard in front shifted to the back. The old hinges on the window creaked. The knocking ceased.
Rachel lowered the blanket and turned over. In Henri's hand was a white bird.
He lifted the pitcher from the tray on the nightstand and poured water into a bowl for the bird to drink. While the bird gulped it down with its tiny beak, he gathered breadcrumbs and fed them to it.
"What's that?"
"It's like a messenger pigeon."
If it was a messenger pigeon, it was a messenger pigeon—what did "like" one even mean? Rachel felt relieved that it wasn't a ghost.
He removed a note from the small tube tied to the bird's leg and read its contents. Soon, he rubbed the space between his brows.
"Why? Is it bad news?"
"The Crown Prince has passed away."
It was exactly as Rachel had said before. But inwardly, she panicked.
'Why is he dead already?'
As Rachel recalled, the Crown Prince's death was supposed to happen a bit later than this.
"That's why an emergency summons has been issued."
"I see."
"You said you see ominous futures. The Crown Prince's death alone isn't the bad news, is it?"
It was also a gesture that he would fully believe her words.
"Yes. Now the Second Prince and Third Prince will vie for the throne."
"Then wouldn't the Second Prince have the advantage?"
King Cudas had three sons and two daughters. The Crown Prince Herion and Second Prince Kariyon had been born to the late First Queen Lamia, while Third Prince Demian, First Princess Hermian, and Second Princess Hesian had been born to the current Queen.
The family of the deceased First Queen was a powerful founding house with great influence and strength.
By contrast, the current Second Queen enjoyed the King's favor, but her birth family was humble, leaving her side weak.
Naturally, everyone had believed that Herion, who had been named Crown Prince, would become king, and that no fight for the throne would occur in this generation.
Yet the healthy Crown Prince had died suddenly.
Those who had supported the Crown Prince would now back the Second Prince, who shared the same mother. That should make it easy for the Second Prince to win, but Rachel shook her head.
"No?"
"Yes. The key nobles who supported the Second Prince will fall ill or meet with accidents."
At a glance, it seemed like a battle between the Second and Third Princes for the throne, but looking deeper, it was no different from a power struggle between the old nobility and the rising nobles.
Rising nobles like Paris Emporus, whose families had short histories, supported the Third Prince—and their combined might was not to be underestimated.
In this situation, many of the nobles backing the Second Prince would fall sick or die in accidents.
"Moreover, when summer comes, there will be floods leading to a poor harvest, but the Third Prince will handle it well, and the kingdom's people will come to support him."
Poor harvests drive up grain prices. Nobles from merchant backgrounds like Paris Emporus would have stockpiled rice. They would sell some at high prices and distribute the rest for free to the people in the Third Prince's name.
As the fight for the throne dragged on, this would boost the Third Prince's popularity, swelling his support base day by day.
In the end, the Third Prince's faction would grow, and the moment the King died, civil war would erupt. The Third Prince would ultimately become king.
"The King won't last past this year either, and rebellion will break out."
"I see."
Henri, who had been lost in serious thought, nodded.
"We'll move at dawn tomorrow, so get some sleep for now."
The two lay back down in bed and fell asleep.
And before the darkness had fully lifted, they rose, boarded a carriage, and headed for the capital. Upon reaching a large village with regular carriage service, they switched vehicles and rode for two more days before arriving in the capital.
***
"You're not surprised."
Henri said this out of the blue after they alighted from the carriage. Rachel tilted her head.
"Why?"
"It's your first time in the capital, isn't it...?"
The question of whether she could see such things with her precognition went unspoken.
Even if it was only a three-day journey to the capital, the village where their manor was located was completely rural.
Henri had seen many provincial lords fresh to the capital. He'd expected Rachel to react the same way, but his daughter merely glanced around without much reaction.
"Yes. I saw it with my precognition."
Rachel offered a brief excuse. Though she'd always stayed at the manor, she had actually come to the capital exactly once before.
She had gawked plenty then and been plenty surprised.
'Above all, prices in the capital were high.'
Street food she'd bought casually had cost ten times more than a basketful of fruit at the village market, which had shocked her even more.
Compared to that, the well-maintained roads, clean streets, and grand tall buildings weren't all that impressive.
Disappointed by his daughter's tepid response, Henri headed to his lodging in the capital.
Rachel was startled upon entering Henri's lodgings for the first time. It was filthy.
There were people who kept themselves clean but let their homes fall into chaos, and Henri was one of them.
Wealthy high nobles owned their own manors in the capital, but Henri did not.
His salary was far above that of commoners but modest compared to other nobles.
He stayed in lodgings provided by the state, but having lived as a noble his whole life, he had no idea how to clean. With no maid either, the room grew dirtier by the day, and what Rachel saw now was the result.
"How is only the bed clean?"
There wasn't even space to set foot. Henri stepped forward heedless of the clutter. Something crunched underfoot, but he tossed his outer coat onto a chest and calmly sat on the bed.
"You rest too."
"No, how could I rest seeing this!"
He looked at his daughter as if wondering what the problem was. There were plenty of problems.
"No, how on earth did you become a doctor?"
"You just study hard, and it works out."
He completely missed the point of her question. She was asking how someone who couldn't keep their personal space clean had become a doctor, but he mistook it for admiration of his achievement and replied proudly.
"No, that's not what I... Never mind. You have to enter the palace urgently, right?"
"Yes. I need to wash up and head right in. Let me give you a quick tour."
He showed her the areas of the communal manor she could use and those she should avoid.
"But there aren't many people around."
"They're probably all at the palace."
The Flora House where he stayed was lodgings provided for those who worked at the palace but did not reside there.
However, with the Crown Prince's sudden death and the emergency summons, the residents were nowhere to be seen.
After finishing the tour, he washed up hastily and left. Rachel was left alone in the filthy room.
"Ugh, it's not like staying just one night—this is what the room he stays in every day looks like?"
Rachel rolled up her sleeves. She couldn't tolerate this mess.
She flung the windows wide open first. She found a large sack in the room and swept up the items scattered across the floor into it.
In the process, she found a single card on the floor. She didn't know what plant it depicted, but it had a simple drawing of a flower and leaves.
"Was it tucked into a herbal guidebook?"
Rachel placed the card she'd picked up on the desk.
After that, she carefully sorted only the books and other items that looked valuable, stowing them neatly in the desk and chest.
Once she'd roughly organized things, she left the room, fetched the broom she'd spotted in the kitchen earlier, swept the floor, and shook the dust from the bedding and clothing.
There were no rags to wipe away the settling white dust, so she tore up some unusable clothes, soaked them in water, and mopped.
"Looks like he never ate in the room."
Rachel muttered as she wiped sweat from her forehead. Good thing, or cleaning would have been even harder.
She planned to leave the sack of trash in the corner for Henri to sort through and discard anything unimportant when he returned.
Only after a long while did the cleaning finally end. Rachel smiled in satisfaction at the now much cleaner room. She herself was covered in dust, but she could wash up.
She took her packed clothes and towel from her bag and headed to the bathhouse.
Nobles didn't casually show their bare skin to others, but communal housing had shared bathhouses.
At the manor, they drew water from a well, but the capital had plumbing, so water gushed out freely. Thanks to that, Rachel could bathe alone and emerged with a clean body.
"I'm hungry."
Having cleaned all day, Rachel's stomach was growling. The maids at the manor would have prepared meals, but there were none here to look after her.
Still, the kitchen might have food, so she headed there—and delicious aromas wafted toward her.
"Has someone come back?"
Before she entered the kitchen, she heard something bubbling away. Then came the sound of chopping: tap tap tap.
It somehow made her crave ramen. Excited, Rachel stepped into the kitchen.
A red-haired man was there. He was chopping vegetables.
Rachel quietly sat on a chair in the kitchen. The man hummed a cheerful tune as he swept the chopped vegetables from the cutting board into the pot with his knife.
"What are you making?"
"Eek!"
The man screamed at Rachel's question. He'd been so focused on cooking that he hadn't noticed her enter.
Startled by the scream right in her face, Rachel jumped too.
"When the hell did you come in?"
"Just now. Are you the head chef?"
"Do I look like the head chef to you?"
Rachel scratched her cheek. He was far too handsome to be a kitchen chef.
He had a prominent nose, a sharp jawline, and most striking of all, crimson eyes like smoldering flames that matched his hair.
She hadn't noticed from behind, but his clothes were high-quality too. He seemed to be dressed casually, but an air of undeniable nobility emanated from him.
"Yeah, guess not."
"Good thing you realize it. But you don't know who I am?"
"Should I?"
At his question from the get-go, Rachel shot back sharply.
The man stroked his chin and muttered.
"Is that so?"
'Who the heck is this guy?'
"New face? Just moved in?"
"No, my father stays here. I'm just imposing on the place while we're in the capital."
"Oh! No wonder you don't know me—that was weirding me out. What's your name?"
Rachel shut her mouth. Her identity was guaranteed by being in the manor, but she felt reluctant to reveal it for some reason.
"Shouldn't you introduce yourself before asking someone else's name?"
"Oh, you're the first person to say that to me."
"That's so cliché."
It was so clichéd that Rachel blurted out her true thoughts.
The man burst into laughter at her reaction.
"Hahaha, you're hilarious."
"No burning smell?"
"See me and your heart's burning, huh?"
Rachel gave him a deadpan look. Smoke was rising behind him.
"No, the stuff in the pot behind you is overflowing and burning."
"Eek! My cooking!"
The man frantically grabbed the pot handle and screamed again. Rachel shook her head at his foolishness.
"Don't just watch—help me out!"