Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Not the Real Deal, but a Fake? (2)
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I let go of her hand. But the sensation lingered.
The pulse of mana flowing beneath her skin. The artificially suppressed wavelength unique to Enhanced Humans.
No way...
This wasn't a mistake.
Applause erupted. I bowed at the waist.
The princess gracefully gathered her skirt and curtsied in return.
A perfect smile. Perfect posture. The perfect princess.
And an Enhanced Human.
I raised my head and checked my expression. Was it frozen? Were my eyes shaking?
It's fine. No one noticed.
The maids approached and surrounded the princess.
I steadied my breathing as I watched her retreating figure.
Questions swirled chaotically in my mind.
Who is that woman?
Is she the real princess? Or a stand-in?
Does the Imperial Family know?
If they don't, how much is this information worth?
If they do, what have I just stumbled upon?
Duchess Clara approached the princess.
I couldn't hear their conversation. But I could see their expressions.
Cautious. Even that old hag, so full of pride in her imperial bloodline.
Does that old hag know?
Or does she truly not know?
I couldn't judge. There wasn't enough information.
I turned to leave the banquet hall.
"Young master."
My feet stopped.
"You danced with Her Highness the princess."
I turned around. A man stood there. Formal attire emblazoned with the imperial crest. A gentle smile. But his eyes weren't smiling.
Who is he?
I searched my memory. Was he among those introduced before the banquet? No. Not in my recollection, at least.
"Yes, I did."
"How was it?"
A light question. Social tone. The kind of conversation that floated around banquet halls everywhere.
But why...
"Her Highness is skilled at dancing. I was busy keeping up."
The man tilted his head slightly.
"How modest. Her Highness said she enjoyed it, too."
The princess said that?
When? It hadn't even been a few minutes since the dance ended.
A lie? A probe? Or the truth?
"You're too kind."
"Did you notice anything particular?"
My heart skipped a beat.
Anything particular?
Coincidence? Just social chatter?
I drew out my voice slowly. Leisurely. As if thinking.
"Her Highness's steps were precise. She never missed a beat. She must have trained more than I have."
The man's expression didn't change.
"I see."
A brief silence.
"Have a pleasant evening, young master."
He bowed and turned, vanishing into the crowd.
I exhaled.
Was that okay?
Did my response sound natural?
Was it too quick? Or too slow?
Anything particular.
That question lingered in my mind.
Just a coincidence?
Or does he know?
If that man knows, I'm already under surveillance.
If he doesn't, my answer might have just aroused suspicion.
I looked around.
Nobles laughing and chatting. Ladies sipping wine. No one was looking this way.
Or were they not looking?
Pretending not to look?
I couldn't tell what lay behind those smiles.
Touch the wrong thing, and I'd die.
That much was certain.
The information that the princess is an Enhanced Human. This wasn't some ordinary scandal.
The suspicion that the imperial bloodline might be fake.
No one holding such information would survive.
Speak out, and die.
But staying silent might not be safe either.
If someone else has already noticed, I'm a loose end to eliminate.
No conclusion.
Not enough information.
There were limits to what I could do alone.
A few days passed, and I decided to share what I'd discovered with someone else.
It was Celine, my half-sister.
"Sis."
"Yeah."
Celine was lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Arms pillowed under her head, sprawled out.
"You know that princess I danced with."
"Yeah, a few days ago."
"She's an Enhanced Human."
Her eyes, fixed on the ceiling, slowly turned toward me.
"...What did you say?"
"I said she's an Enhanced Human."
Celine sat up. The drowsiness from moments ago was gone.
"I felt it when I held her hand. Mana flowing under her skin. The unique waves of those artificially enhanced. Exactly like what I sensed from Lize."
"You figured it out just from holding hands?"
"Yeah."
"While dancing?"
"Yeah."
"You're full of it."
I knew she'd say that.
"I'm not lying."
"How am I supposed to believe that? If you had a talent like that, Father would've noticed you with your swordsmanship."
"It's a half-baked talent. I can't use it myself, but I can sense it."
"Proof?"
"Not right now."
Celine smirked. She started to say something, then stopped and got up from the sofa.
She walked to a bag in the corner of the room. Rustling sounds followed.
What was she getting?
Celine returned with a small orb in her hand.
Palm-sized. A faint light swirled slowly inside.
"Know what this is?"
"Mana storage orb."
"Purpose?"
"Stores mana and releases it later. Usually for emergencies."
"Right. But it has other uses."
Her finger brushed the orb's surface. The light inside rippled like water.
"Guess how much mana is in here right now."
"Out of nowhere?"
"To check if your sensing is real."
"What a hassle."
"Hassle, and I won't believe you."
I reached out. Stopped just before touching the orb and closed my eyes.
As I steadied my breathing, something gradually came into focus.
The mana inside the orb. Waves sloshing like water. Energy settled beneath a calm surface.
Not full. Traces of depletion in three spots.
Like water scooped out of a cup three times.
I opened my eyes.
"About 70 percent. Used it three times from full."
Celine's hand froze.
"What."
"Wrong?"
"No. Spot on. Too spot on. Gives me chills."
"There you go."
"One time doesn't convince me."
In the end, we did two more tests.
80 percent. Accurate.
95 percent. Accurate.
Celine looked down at the orb.
"You didn't cheat?"
"How?"
"Dunno. But you're nailing it too perfectly."
"That's why you're suspicious?"
"Because it doesn't make sense."
She spun the orb around. Checking for tricks, clearly.
As if there would be any. She prepared it herself.
"Give me your hand."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
Celine extended her hand skeptically. I grabbed it.
"What. Grabbing my hand all of a sudden."
"Shut up. Need to concentrate."
I closed my eyes.
Different from the orb. A living body. Mana not pooled, but flowing. Like blood through veins. Circulating through her entire body.
I could feel it.
"Move your mana."
"Where?"
"Anywhere. I'll guess."
A brief silence.
Then the flow shifted.
Mana spread throughout her body began gathering in one spot. Slowly. Cautiously.
"Left shoulder."
Celine's hand stiffened.
"..."
"Wrong?"
No answer. The mana moved again.
Faster this time. Deliberately sped up.
"Right thigh."
"..."
"Index finger."
"..."
"Gathering toward your heart."
She yanked her hand away.
I opened my eyes. Celine had stepped back. Her cat ears stood straight up.
"What are you?"
"What else. Mana sensing, like I said."
"With that level of talent, why not just pick up a sword and train? You could read every opponent move."
"Sensing is monstrous, but control is trash."
"What?"
"Sensing mana and wielding it are different talents. I'm great at sensing, but average or worse at using it. More mana leaks out than in others. Can't store it. Half-baked talent, that's me."
"Same as me."
I turned my head.
"What do you mean?"
Celine was looking out the window. Her expression unreadable.
The woman who'd snapped an assassin's neck with her bare hands.
I didn't know her exact age, but definitely younger than Ernst.
And half-baked?
If that's half-baked, most aspiring knights worldwide should smash their faces into plates and die.
Hmm...
Bloodline issue? Half-human, half-catfolk. Not fully belonging to either side.
If that's what she meant, it made sense.
"Still a waste, though. Decent talent. Should be some use for it."
"It is a waste. I've dug through books looking for ways. Cases of high mana sensing only. People who achieved something with sensing alone, no control."
"Find any?"
"Nope."
Celine smirked. Not mocking. More like she got it.
"Makes sense. Even if the upper body is strong, a weak lower body means no martial art reaches mastery."
I nodded.
Like the barrel theory.
When filling a barrel made of planks with water, the water level is determined not by the longest plank, but the shortest.
No matter how high the sensing, bottomed-out control makes it meaningless.
"What now?"
Celine sat up on the sofa, crossing her legs and looking at me.
"First, investigate."
"What?"
"If the princess is real or fake."
Celine's eyes narrowed. Her fingers stopped on her knee.
"How?"
"Not 100 percent. But about 60 percent chance of success."
I leaned back against the chair.
"60 percent?"
"Better than fifty-fifty."
"How?"
Instead of answering, I glanced toward the door.
She should be here by now.
That thought had just finished.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A knock sounded.
"Come in."
The door opened. A familiar face appeared.
It was Kooluk.
"Why's that guy coming in all of a sudden?"
"I called her."
Kooluk closed the door and approached. A thin stack of documents in hand.
"Young master, I have that information."
I took the papers. Celine craned her neck to peek from the side.
"What info?"
"Imperial miscellaneous purchase records."
"What?"
"Item lists purchased for the princess's quarters over the past year."
I flipped through. Herbs, ingredients, daily goods. Seemingly ordinary items lined up.
"What can you tell from this?"
"Hobbies."
"Hobbies?"
"If the princess was swapped, she wouldn't continue the previous one's hobbies unchanged."
I flipped more. Purchase items, visit records, sponsorships.
"Suddenly stops buying paints she got monthly until two years ago. Cuts off steady sponsorships to artists. That kind of thing would be suspicious."
"And if not?"
"Then it was my mistake."
Celine snatched the papers. Her eyes scanned rapidly.
"Wait. You touched the Imperial Family?"
"Bribed them. Needed info."
"Are you insane? If getting caught messing with internal imperial info gets out, you're done for!"