Confession

"You'll catch a cold."

Drawing me into her arms, my mother shielded me from the rain.

At that, I pulled myself free and wrote to her on the paper.

「 Please wait just a little while. 」

"Should I go back in the coffin, then?"

A dead woman coming back to life was no ordinary thing.

To think she could still crack jokes in a situation like this — I gave her an awkward smile.

'……'

But then again, thinking it over, there really was no other way.

It was a place no ordinary person's footsteps reached, yet the chances of absolutely no one coming were slim.

Which meant that to hide my mother, newly returned to life, she really would have to lie in that coffin until my trip to see Father was over.

Unable to figure out how to explain this to her, I simply stared at her blankly — and she smiled gently at me, said, "Off you go, then," and climbed back into the coffin to lie down.

'There's no time.'

Even amid this absurdity, an apology trailed after me.

Steadying myself, I left the garden of the detached palace and entered the Main Palace.

"Oh my goodness!"

The passing maids, startled at the sight of me soaked to the bone, offered to fetch a towel, but I shook my head.

Seeing Father came first.

But as I hurried along, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ran headlong into the last people I wanted to see.

"So anyway, Mother!"

My half-sister, Aria.

Beside her, of course, was the Empress — Aria's mother.

A rare smile on Aria's face.

I frowned at it for a moment before understanding dawned.

From the Empress's point of view, she believed I would be stripped of my title before long, so whatever lingering hostility she'd held toward her daughter must have been largely wiped away.

So that was how they managed to look like such a loving family.

Aria, knowing none of this, chattered away at her mother's side, simply delighted that her mother had suddenly grown so warm toward her.

Tap. Tap.

"You! What kind of person walks past their own mother without so much as a greeting?"

She stopped me as I passed without a word, her eyes narrowing upward like a fox's.

"That is his mother, isn't it? He's only venting his frustration on the people around him. Pay him no mind."

Much as I wanted to ignore it, I couldn't quite let it pass through one ear and out the other.

Clenching my fist, I shot the Empress a razor-sharp glare — but she only scoffed and brushed off the killing intent of a boy still so young.

"Greet her. Now."

"The child can't speak, you know."

Words that scraped me raw down to the core.

For an instant, the thought flashed through me — tear that mouth apart, hang that neck from the very guillotine that took my mother's life.

And it wasn't merely imagination.

If I'd had the justification, the certain authority, and the power to do it right then and there, I was genuinely prepared to carry it out.

The air around me shifted on its own, and Aria — standing closest — reacted first, stumbling back a step before she knew what she was doing.

"You—!"

Was she resentful that, for a split second in front of her own mother, I had overpowered her?

Aria hastily buried her bewilderment and carved her face into an angry mask.

But if I lingered here any longer, I'd be nothing more than a pretty excuse for their amusement — so I turned my back on them without ceremony.

Tsk.

The Empress's tongue clicked behind me.

I didn't know how far that composure of hers would carry her, but she might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

「 I want to see Father. 」

"Please go in. His Majesty instructed me to admit you the moment you arrived."

At the knight's words, I nodded and entered my father's chambers.

"Have you sorted out your thoughts?"

At Father's question, I did nothing for a while.

In the end, the only person I could lean on right now was Father — that was why I stood here.

That my mother had returned to life was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a good thing.

But he was the man who had once weighed the throne against my mother — and chosen the throne.

Should I really trust him here, and tell him my mother had come back?

「 Father — if time turned back, would you make the same choice again? 」

Reading my words, Father stroked my head.

"As long as you are alive, then yes — I imagine I would make the same choice."

「 I didn't come here to hear such worthless nonsense! 」

"It is not worthless. If there had been no child between me and Euphemia, I might have charged ahead recklessly. But so long as the imperial bloodline survives, those who covet the next throne will stop at nothing to kill you."

"……"

"Even if you are deposed — not as an imperial princess, but as an imperial prince, the direct line remains a variable to come. Even as the imperial generation turns, conflict will always arise. And when someone raises a banner in revolt, you are the supreme justification beyond compare."

"……"

"And so this imperial throne — at the very least, it is the power that can guarantee your life."

Scritch. Scritch.

My pen stilled on the page.

Anything more he meant to say…

It was a variant of that gaudy, childish-yet-cruel question: if your wife and your son are swept away in a flooding river and you can save only one, whom do you choose?

He —

Father had made the best choice he believed himself capable of. That was all.

「 There is somewhere we must go together. 」

"Together?"

「 Come out to the detached palace — to Mother's garden — right now, without being seen by a single soul. Through the palace's secret passages, it shouldn't be difficult for you. 」

I needed to prepare clothes that would keep my mother's appearance hidden, so I set out first.

Soon after, when we reached the garden of the detached palace, Father stared at my mother's excavated grave with a stricken look.

「 Open the coffin. 」

Holding my mother's change of clothes pressed to my chest so the rain wouldn't soak them, I stepped far away.

At length, with trembling hands, Father slowly lifted the lid — and at the sight of my mother lying inside as if merely asleep, his whole body shook.

It was little wonder. My mother's severed neck was whole again, and her skin had regained its color.

She had perhaps drifted briefly into sleep, for she showed no movement at all, only the faintest trace of breath.

Father reached out one large hand and gently smoothed her hair back.

Plip.

Pitter-patter.

So at odds with that warmth.

When the coffin opened and the streaming rain from the sky began drumming against her body, my mother stirred — her brow creasing faintly as she opened her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes.

"How? Ho-ow? Ho-ow, how……?"

Repeating the same words over and over, Father ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gathered her body carefully into his arms.

"Ah……"

Flustered for a moment, my mother then reached out both hands to him in return and gently drew him close.

If Romeo and Juliet had ended not in tragedy but in happiness — would it have looked like this?

Father, like me only hours before, clung to my mother and wept like a child.

There was no room for me between the two of them just now.

And so I simply stood at a distance and watched their reunion in silence.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

"Can you tell me what happened?"

To keep her identity concealed for the time being, we changed my mother's clothes and slipped out of the palace together into the capital, Veronica, where Father had her lodged at an inn before we returned.

And naturally, Father seated me in front of him and asked the question we both knew was coming.

"Freeze."

At that, I froze the moisture hanging in the waiting air into a massive spear of ice and stared at him evenly.

"You spoke?!"

Hearing my voice, Father was stunned that I could speak at all.

But at his reaction I only shook my head, and began explaining my ability to him.

After all, consonants and vowels were the very building blocks of the Hangul from my previous life.

So I adjusted the information slightly to fit this world's language before passing it on.

"If that is true… then it must be something close to the Dragon Tongue, the power the first Emperor was said to wield."

「 The Dragon Tongue? 」

"In the far-distant past, humans often bore children with the dragons who had descended from their play. But as those bloodlines were carried on and the children began inheriting the dragons' power as well, at some point the dragons ceased showing themselves in this world."

This was news to me.

"The ability to use magic, the power to overlay mana upon one's own body and upon objects — diluted countless times over the generations, yet it endured precisely because that bloodline had been mixed in. And among them all, the first Emperor is said to have commanded the Dragon Tongue itself. Well… it's mere legend, so it never appeared in the histories you studied."

"……"

"Can that power of yours not be used to obtain evidence of this affair?"

At Father's words, I shook my head.

Truth, being mutable for every individual, could not be assembled.

Its near-synonyms would fare no better.

With flimsy evidence, wringing a confession out of them would be near impossible too —

'Huh?'

I stiffened and clutched my head.

Yes!

Why hadn't I thought of it before?

Confession!

「 It might be possible! 」

"Truly?!"

Having explained my idea of Confession to Father, I clenched my fist tight.

The consonants required for Confession were ㅂ and ㄱ.

The vowels required amounted to just one: ㅏ.

Having thus exchanged a long, close conversation with Father, I made frequent trips to the imperial capital of Veronica from then on.

Meeting my mother was part of it — but consonants and vowels were far easier to gather in the capital, Veronica, than anywhere else.

And so, before many days had passed — even as petitions demanding my deposition piled up without end…

At last, I had succeeded in assembling Confession.

The hawk coiled within my breast — the one called vengeance — knew at last that the hour of its flight had come, and spread its wings.