Evelyn

The temporary records room of the Black King Castle.

Under the dim candlelight, three stacks of ledgers lay before her.

The royal maternity ward records.

The receipt and dispatch logs of cloth and medicinal herbs previously supplied by the Roadmia family.

And the copies of the lower servants' ration tables and laundry lists—documents that never made it into the official ledgers.

Herman had told her not to trust official records.

Evelyn agreed.

Official ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠records were always laced with plausible lies. The sentences were neatly polished, and the seals were perfectly stamped.

But the back pages of a ledger were different. The margins were often messy.

Someone would miscalculate a number, someone else would abbreviate a name, and another would push back a date.

Yet, because of that very messiness, the back pages were sometimes far more honest than any official document.

"Three wet nurses," Evelyn murmured softly.

In the auxiliary palace supply lists managed by the Roadmia family, there were items that seemed entirely unrelated to the royal maternity ward:

Medicinal herbs for fever recovery.

Soft woolen cloth.

A small, sterilized water bowl.

Nourishing food for wet nurses.

Some of these supplies had been delivered not to the maternity ward, but to a sealed annex in the northwest corner of the palace.

It was strange. It was strange precisely because it looked so natural.

Those who wished to hide something always avoided the center. If the child were in the maternity ward, it would leave a trace in the official records.

Therefore, they would set up a room outside the ward and use it as one.

"Prince Arkel was truly determined."

The late First Prince.

And, quite possibly, the father of a child.

Evelyn closed her eyes for a moment.

The sound of the baby's laughter echoed in her mind—that innocent, oblivious laughter.

Right after that came Lucion's voice.

He's my kid.

Evelyn tightened her grip on the ledger.

It had to be a lie. At least, in the biological sense.

It was not a confession of affection, but a designation.

A political seal disguised as responsibility rather than mercy.

That was how she had to interpret it.

"My Lady."

A knock sounded. Outside the door, a junior scribe bowed his head.

"These are the entry logs for the northwest annex of the palace."

"Bring them in."

The scribe placed the folder on the desk. Evelyn dismissed him with a wave of her hand and opened the logs.

The restricted area of the northwest annex.

The stated purpose of use was the storage of old palace furniture.

Yet, wet nurses had frequented this furniture storage.

Medicinal herbs and small amounts of fine cloth had been brought in.

And then, at a certain point, all those records stopped.

Too cleanly. As if someone had drawn a sharp line.

Evelyn pressed her fingernail against that exact spot.

"Here."

If there was a day the child disappeared, it was around this time.

No, not disappeared—the day he was moved.

Evelyn pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.

She wrote them down one by one. Just then, the door opened.

Without a knock.

Evelyn looked up.

A black cloak. Then, a weary face.

Lucion Vergrad.

The Demon King.

He hadn't brought Herman. Nor was Barkan with him. He had come entirely alone.

That fact, strangely, made Evelyn's heart feel heavy.

"Your Majesty," Evelyn rose from her seat and bowed politely.

Lucion waved his hand. "Don't bother with that. I don't have the energy to receive formalities right now."

"Your guards...?"

"If they're outside, words leak. If they're inside, it just tires me out."

He spoke casually, but Evelyn understood the weight behind his words.

His entering this room alone did not mean he trusted her.

Perhaps he had come to speak of things he hadn't even sorted out with Herman yet.

Lucion looked down at the ledgers laid out before Evelyn. "Found it already?"

"It's not confirmed yet."

"Starting with that disclaimer means you definitely found something."

As he drew closer, Evelyn held her breath for a moment.

It was a distance where their hands would have touched in the past. A distance where she wouldn't have had to avert her eyes.

But Lucion didn't look at her hands. Looking at the ledger, he pointed to a blank space with his finger. "This part?"

"Yes."

"Here."

"Yes."

"Hmm."

"..."

"And this must be it."

"Yes."

Evelyn cleared her throat. "It's the northwest annex. It isn't the official maternity ward, but the records for wet nurses, medicinal herbs, baby cloth, and laundry all converge here. And after a specific date, they all cut off."

"Who erased them?"

"I don't know yet."

"Good."

Evelyn looked at Lucion. "What do you mean by 'good'?"

"Someone who erases things perfectly leaves ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no trace at all. But the fact that there are severed traces like this means someone was in a hurry, or another party intervened midway."

Lucion didn't lift his finger from the blank space. "Which means we can catch them."

Evelyn stared at his hand. *We can catch them.*

"Evelyn."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"I'm going to convene a meeting of the blood families in a few days."

Evelyn's expression flickered with surprise. "A meeting of the blood families...?"

"Yes."

Lucion kept his eyes fixed on the ledger. "I need to reveal Eren's identity."

"Then the reason you are calling the meeting is..."

"To gather all the bastards trying to hide him in one room."

He gave a weary laugh. "Right now, what could possibly draw more attention than Eren? A legitimate child of royal blood, and his father is the deceased Arkel."

The smile didn't last long. "So, I will summon them."

"What do you plan to do once you summon them?"

"Strike a deal. Hand over as many concessions as they want. In return, I just need to put a leash on those concessions."

Evelyn couldn't find an answer.

Lucion continued with a relaxed expression. "Besides, there are plenty of potential traitors who want to call Eren royal blood. I can't deal with them all right now, but I can shut them up. I just have to ask them."

His finger tapped the ledger. "Who pays for the food to keep the royal blood alive?"

Once.

"Who provides the wet nurses?"

Twice.

"Who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will watch over him while the bloodline verification is suspended?"

Thrice.

"The food for the Ragmund survivors, the reorganization of the eastern military camp, the supply routes in preparation for the Northern Grand Duke's reinvasion, the reinvestigation of the royal maternity ward records—who will take charge of these?"

He looked at Evelyn. "I'll let them talk all they want. I prefer healthy communication."

In that moment, Evelyn realized.

Lucion wasn't trying to hide Eren. Nor was he trying to use Eren as bait.

He was going to drag those who wanted to use Eren to destabilize the throne right in front of the child and present them with the bill.

If they wanted to speak the words "royal blood," they had to bear the responsibility of running the kingdom as well. That was Lucion's way.

"Your Majesty," Evelyn said slowly. "The temperaments of the blood families vary wildly. It will be impossible to predict their reactions."

"Probably."

"Especially the older blood families. They might try to view Eren as your weakness."

"Let them," Lucion said indifferently. "They have to think it's a weakness to reach out their hands."

"Do you mean you want to see who reaches out?"

"Yes." He laughed softly. "Evelyn."

"Yes."

"Before the meeting of the blood families, there is something you need to do."

Evelyn straightened her back. "Give me your command."

Lucion stared at her intently for a moment, so closely that it felt suffocating. Then, he changed the subject.

"The moment you found this ledger, you likely ended up on someone else's ledger as well."

Evelyn's complex thoughts flickered across her face.

"Act as you normally would. Keep doing what you've been doing." Having said his piece, he turned toward the door.

"But if anyone suspicious approaches you, write down their name."

"Is writing down their name enough?"

"No." Lucion smiled wearily. "Look at their fingers, too."

"Their... fingers?"

"I've noticed that those who steal ledgers always have dirty fingers first."

Leaving those words behind, Lucion walked out of the room.

Evelyn stared at the closed door for a long time. Then, she slowly sat down. Her fingertips began to tremble slightly—the hand holding the pen.

She pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.

Evelyn wrote. She wrote and wrote. Once she finished, she pulled out tomorrow's tasks, and then the documents piled up from yesterday, writing them all down.

Evelyn. Why did he call her Evelyn, and not Lady Roadmia?

The night grew deeper. The candle burned low, and the footsteps outside the records room faded away.

She drew a line under the final item.

Estimated burden per blood family.

Once the numbers were finalized, Evelyn set her pen down. She was tired. So incredibly tired.

Yet, strangely, her body was rising from the chair. Her duties were over. Everything she had to do today was finished. Therefore, she should return to her room. That was the right thing to do.

'Before the meeting of the blood families, there is something you need to do.'

Yet, Evelyn stepped out of the records room. She walked down the corridor with a feverish mind.

Treading through the quiet night of the Black King Castle, she brushed away the swirling distractions. She organized her thoughts, quietly. What it was that she truly needed to do.

The aftermath of Eren's appearance and the revelation of his existence; the upcoming meeting of the blood families; Lucion's face, his expressions; and Evelyn, Evelyn, Evelyn—Lucion's lips casually uttering her name.

She began to quicken her pace. Her steps grew faster. She needed to know, with absolute clarity, where she was going.

Toward Lucion's office. As she walked, she muttered the preparation items for the meeting, the gaps in the northwest annex's ledgers, and the supply of baby cloth. She memorized everything that could serve as a justification for her visit.

And when she arrived at the door, Evelyn stopped. Someone was standing in front of the office.

Beneath dark hair, a pale face. It was Seradin, her eyes quiet as blades. She stood there in unfamiliar attire, wearing no armor.

Seeing Evelyn, Seradin's eyes crinkled ever so slightly. It was an expression too cold to be a smile, yet too shallow to be contempt.

"Have you come to see His Majesty at this hour?"

Evelyn clutched the ledger to her chest. "I have matters to report."

"I am sure you do."

Seradin's gaze swept over the ledger, then returned to Evelyn's face.

Silence settled over the corridor. Not a single sound ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠came from inside the office. It was impossible to tell if Lucion was even inside.

Yet Evelyn kept her eyes on the door. Seradin watched her gaze, then spoke in a very low voice.

"My Lady."

"Speak."

"Have you finished delivering the notices for the upcoming meeting of the blood families?"

"I have completed it."

Seradin's voice remained entirely flat. "His Majesty already knew you would visit today."

Seradin's eyes curved into a thin smile, as if offering congratulations. "Follow me."

Evelyn couldn't answer. Seradin began to walk, and Evelyn followed.

By the time they passed the office and reached the Demon King's bedroom, Evelyn began to feel the ledger in her arms grow unbearably heavy.

Strangely. Very strangely. That ledger felt like a shield.