Chapter 86
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 86
In response to the order for Evangeline Rohanson's immediate execution, Gabriel had secured a reprieve by wagering his own life. If he failed to find the true culprit, he would share her fate on the day of her execution.
Less than a day later, Bishop Marik also requested an audience with the Emperor.
"First the Commander of the Pararos Knights, and now the Bishop," the Emperor sighed. "My son was so quiet in life, yet he causes such a commotion in death. Bishop Marik, what brings you to see me?"
The Emperor, in the midst of preparing for the funeral, looked utterly exhausted. With the Crown Prince's passing, all his children were now dead. No matter how many state funerals he had to arrange for his own flesh and blood, he could never grow accustomed to it. The Crown Prince's funeral had been postponed, a delay intended to appease his son's aggrieved soul by burying the assassin alongside him.
"It has been quite some time, Your Majesty. I must admit, I'm a little hurt you wish to skip the pleasantries and get straight to business."
"Bishop Marik, are we truly on such familiar terms?"
Despite the anger lacing the Emperor's voice, Bishop Marik showed no sign of fear. Instead, she responded with a cheeky familiarity.
"Have we not overcome great adversity together, Your Majesty?"
The "adversity" she referred to was an event from over twenty years ago—an incident known to the public as the Pagan Massacre. Once, Bishop Marik had been the Emperor's greatest ally. Back when he had just slaughtered his brothers to ascend the throne, the Emperor relied on her to solidify his legitimacy and imperial authority.
The Minister of Finance, who had dared to call the Emperor a merciless tyrant for killing his own kin, was conveniently exposed for embezzling state funds to support shamans, resulting in the annihilation of his entire house. Several other nobles who opposed the Emperor met similar fates; once they were "revealed" to be wicked pagans, they could not escape the purges.
There was no denying that Bishop Marik had played a significant role in securing the Emperor's throne.
"Yes, there was such a time," the Emperor conceded. "But our relationship ended the moment you smuggled away my god-forsaken son to use as leverage against me."
If word got out that the child of an Emperor who had consolidated his power through the Pagan Massacre bore a curse that made him immune to holy water, the blow to the throne would be catastrophic. Bishop Marik had craved that leverage.
By the time the Emperor realized she had spirited the youngest prince away instead of killing him, it was too late. He sent pursuers, but the child’s whereabouts remained a mystery.
He had consoled himself with the fact that those denied the blessing of holy water rarely survived past the age of ten. Surely, the youngest prince had died long ago.
"I do not have much time to spare, so speak your mind. What did you come to tell me?"
At the Emperor's prompting, Bishop Marik wasted no more time.
"There is another suspect who may be the true culprit behind the Crown Prince's assassination."
"Are you saying it isn't Evangeline Rohanson?"
"Oh, of course, Lady Rohanson is still highly suspicious."
With a paladin willing to die for her and now even Bishop Marik stepping forward, the Emperor began to wonder if the true culprit really was someone else.
"Your Majesty must have received the report about the spell circle drawn on the banquet hall floor. As you know, it is used to summon demons. When I entered the banquet hall, there were exactly two individuals whose presence felt deeply unsettling."
One of them was undoubtedly Evangeline Rohanson. The other had to be the person Marik suspected. Unable to tolerate her dramatic pause, the Emperor pressed for an answer.
"So, who is it you suspect?"
"Lady Tenebrae."
The suspect Bishop Marik named was none other than his granddaughter, Tenebrae. Upon hearing this, the Emperor gripped the armrests of his throne so tightly his knuckles turned white. He glared down at her with bloodshot eyes, his fury palpable.
"Your Majesty, why does such a sinister energy emanate from Lady Tenebrae?"
The voice filtering through her veil was thick with amusement. Had she lifted the fabric obscuring her face, she would have undoubtedly revealed a wide, mocking grin stretched across her burn-scarred flesh.
"Bishop Marik. If you were not a bishop of the Temple, and had you not dedicated your life to this Empire... If this old man possessed even a fraction less restraint, I would have your head severed and impaled upon the city gates."
"I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty's immense generosity."
Her shamelessness was sickening.
"I had forgotten how desperately you claw at my weaknesses. Was my son not enough? Do you now intend to frame my granddaughter as a pagan as well?"
"I am merely speaking the truth, Your Majesty."
The Emperor glared down at her, his hostility a crushing weight in the air.
"Is that all you came to say? The Imperial Knights will find the culprit. Do not interfere. Leave."
The Emperor had no intention of being toyed with by her silver tongue any longer. Bishop Marik rose quietly at his dismissal. But as she turned to leave, she paused as if a thought had just struck her.
"Now that I think of it, I ran into Sir Gabriel on the day His Highness passed away. It has been quite some time."
"What a remarkable coincidence. I, too, have recently met with Sir Gabriel."
Indeed, he had just granted Gabriel an audience when the knight came to beg for a reprieve on Evangeline's execution.
"A thought occurred to me then... Sir Gabriel bears a striking resemblance to the late Crown Prince."
At her words, the Emperor conjured Gabriel's face in his mind. Black hair and blue eyes. In terms of coloring, he did resemble the Crown Prince, but surely countless people in the Empire shared those traits.
"Had the youngest prince grown to adulthood, I am certain he would have become a fine man, much like Sir Gabriel."
"Bishop Marik, what is the meaning of this?"
"Since Your Majesty has dismissed me, I shall take my leave."
Ignoring the Emperor's demand, Bishop Marik swept out of the audience chamber. Left alone in the silent room, the Emperor stared blankly at the heavy, closed doors.
"It cannot be..."
Bishop Marik was implying that the youngest prince was Gabriel. Gabriel is my son?
It was impossible. The rites to become a paladin required anointment with holy water. The Emperor himself had been present when Gabriel was appointed Commander. Before the eyes of the entire court, Gabriel had shed blood upon the Holy Sword and had his wounds healed by divine grace.
Could that entire display have been an elaborate deception?
Indeed, there was no safer place for Bishop Marik to hide and raise the youngest prince than within the depths of the Temple.
"Gabriel... is my son?"
He searched his memories for the face of the nameless newborn, but the recollection was too faint. Yet, when he carefully recalled the features of the grown Gabriel, he saw an undeniable resemblance to the late Crown Prince. If Gabriel truly was the prince... After a long, heavy silence, the Emperor's gaze grew sharp and calculating.
He immediately summoned his most trusted knights. He had to verify Gabriel's identity. For all he knew, Bishop Marik could have found another cursed soul immune to holy water and claimed he was the lost prince. Fortunately, there was a definitive way to identify an imperial prince. If Gabriel was of royal blood, he would bear the Dragon's Trace—a scar unique to the imperial line.
"Find out if Sir Gabriel bears a specific scar on his body."
"A scar, Your Majesty?"
"Yes. As the Commander of the Knights, he undoubtedly has many battle scars. But I am not interested in the wounds he received while living as 'Gabriel.' I am looking for something else. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The knight bowed, accepting the sudden command without question.
Soon, the Emperor received the very answer he had dreaded.
"Your Majesty. We have confirmed that Sir Gabriel bears a circular scar near his chest."
Though they could not strip the Commander to inspect him directly, discreet inquiries had yielded the truth.
"It seems a rumor has been circulating among the maids."
The Temple strictly emphasized asceticism and its members rarely exposed their flesh, so Gabriel was always covered. However, on the day of the Crown Prince's death, Gabriel had been drenched in wine and was forced to change his clothes. The maid who assisted him had caught sight of the scar. Finding it unusual, she had whispered about it to a few of her colleagues.
"Did you verify this with the maid who saw it herself?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. She is mute, so we had her sketch what she saw."
The knight unfolded a piece of paper and presented it. The Emperor massaged his temples, trying to soothe a throbbing headache. Though the sketch was crude, it clearly depicted the Dragon's Trace—the mark engraved solely upon the bodies of the imperial family. No one could have drawn it so accurately without seeing it firsthand.
This confirmed it. Gabriel was indeed the son he had abandoned.
"Why now, of all times... right after Laudes was murdered..."
The reason Bishop Marik chose this moment to reveal Gabriel's identity was painfully obvious. If Gabriel was revealed to be the abandoned youngest prince, he would bypass Oratorio and become first in the line of succession.
Bishop Marik would undoubtedly use Gabriel as a puppet to rule as regent. But the Emperor could not allow that.
If the public learned that a god-forsaken child had been born to the flawless imperial family, the blow to their authority would be unimaginable. The one who must succeed him was Oratorio, the grandson who took after him so perfectly.
"So, who is it you suspect?"
"Lady Tenebrae."
Perhaps the only saving grace was that Bishop Marik's target was Tenebrae, not Oratorio.
If the Emperor protected Tenebrae, Bishop Marik would expose Gabriel. One was a child he had tried to kill; the other was an ominous child whose life he had spared. The Emperor weighed them on a scale.
Should he allow the world to learn that Gabriel, a man denied the blessing of holy water, was an imperial prince, exposing all the dark secrets of the past? Or should he frame his own granddaughter as a patricidal monster who murdered her father? It was an agonizing decision.
Hoping Bishop Marik might reconsider, the Emperor penned a brief note and summoned a knight.
The treasure from the Count's house is already in the vault. Do you intend to add this old man's necklace to it as well?
Bishop Marik's reply arrived swiftly.
The Goddess Rachel does not desire two jewels.
The Emperor let out a heavy sigh, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Just as he had feared from the beginning, Bishop Marik was using Gabriel to blackmail him. It was precisely to avoid this that he had tried to kill the boy at birth. The Emperor's choice was clear. He felt a pang of guilt for his granddaughter, but for now, he had to appease Bishop Marik.
He leaned back against the ornate throne. Was it the crown that made his head feel so heavy?
* * *
It has been three days since I was locked in this dungeon.
According to Jelly, who slipped me some news when the guards weren't looking, Hena made it back to the mansion safely. Apparently, she and Canna had a tearful reunion, but since I still haven't returned, Canna hasn't stopped crying.
They've sent away all outsiders, including Misha, and put the Rohanson mansion on lockdown. They tried to send Doline away too, but she insisted on staying, claiming she would share the mansion's fate. It seems Daisy's younger siblings, whom we rescued from the nobles, are also still there.
Oh, and apparently, the Count is fully prepared to disown me at a moment's notice. I'm in this mess because of the sword he gifted me, so I feel incredibly betrayed. As I sat there seething, Jelly promised that the second the Count cuts ties with me, he'll capture him and hand him over to the guards to be charged with guilt by association.
You'd think by now they'd either officially declare me the culprit or let me go. But no—I'm still stuck in suspect limbo.
Sigh... I'm so tired.