Are You Really Titania?
The card was a VIP pass to Hecate's Tavern, the foremost intelligence syndicate in the imperial capital.
The badge was the emblem of a Regular Knight, signifying someone capable of holding down at least a second-tier post in the core chivalric order nurtured by the Castrein Duchy.
As for the silver ring… While it certainly looked like silver on the surface, it was actually a rare metal favored by apothecaries, extraordinarily useful for distinguishing lethal poisons from medicinal herbs.
The VIP pass itself was brand-new, its cardstock crisp and its gold foil gleaming under the light, but both the badge and the ring bore the unmistakable patina of having been carried and used by their owner for years. The implication was crystal clear: whoever held these tokens would soon be dispatched to my side.
When I flipped the card over, a thin slip of paper slipped out from underneath and fluttered into my palm.
“I will be watching.”
“……”
The moment I registered those words, goosebumps erupted across my skin, leaving me frozen stiff like a frog cornered by a serpent. I knew Raymon's penmanship well enough to tell this wasn't his. This was an unyielding, weighty cursive that bore the gravity of decades of battlefield experience.
This is Duke Ortho's own handwriting!
As I stared quietly down at the items, Lisianthus grumbled beside me.
“I honestly have no clue what Father is thinking.”
“…You're probably better off not knowing.”
“What?”
“Is this all?” Stripping every trace of teasing from my voice, I asked him with cool precision, “When exactly will this person arrive? Is there a identifying sign so I know who they are? And tell me, does this VIP card already cover the commission fee for an inquiry?”
Caught completely off guard by the rapid, calculated barrage, Lisianthus hesitated. Yet having clearly been briefed beforehand, he cleared his throat after a moment's pause.
“…Ahem. Didn't think you'd actually ask all that… But he said it'll be settled within a week. That side will make contact first, so don't worry about trying to spot them. And yeah, the card covers the cost of a single commission.”
The compensation was far more generous than I had anticipated. In particular, a pass to Hecate's Tavern was far too lavish to be considered a simple courtesy bonus.
Granted, considering I had handed over Gloriana's Insignia of all things, I would have been well within my rights to demand even more. But to me, Gloriana's Insignia was nothing more than sour grapes.
Everyone in high society knew the rift between me and my birth mother. The iron mine the imperial family had granted her family as the price for handing her over? Even if I knew its location, it wasn't something I could seize, nor did I have any use for it.
More than anything, within the imperial palace, an ancient relic radiating the Power of Light was the ultimate white elephant.
The current imperial court took great pains to bury all divine power, dismissing the ancient authority of the gods as mere fairy tales and historical dust. If a member of the imperial family were to suddenly manifest the primordial might once wielded by the First Emperor… it would trigger a war of an entirely different kind. In terms of bloodline legitimacy, they would hold a stronger claim to the throne than the reigning Emperor himself.
My entire purpose in handing the relic to the Castrein Duchy was so they could sacrifice it down the line to fortify the crumbling Northern Barrier. In theory, so long as an imperial royal awakened their divine nature, they could channel the power of any god… but how on earth could Titania ever wield Gloriana's Insignia and channel the Light at this late hour?
It was absurd.
Still, to the Duchy of Castrein, my recent conduct must have seemed utterly bizarre. It was only natural that Duke Ortho would grant this pass to Hecate's Tavern to test how I intended to use it, prying into what my true objectives were.
Masking my thoughts, I lowered my gaze and spoke evenly.
“Tell him I am grateful.”
At my composed response, Lisianthus's face twisted into an expression of sheer bewilderment. It was the look of someone witnessing something that fundamentally should not exist—a profound, suffocating baffle that he couldn't even begin to articulate. If a hideous monster had suddenly burst out of a stuffed rabbit resting on his headboard, his eyes wouldn't have looked half as unsettled.
He stared at me for a long, quiet stretch, scrutinizing me as though I were an impossible riddle. Then, in a low, raspy tone, the question slipped from his lips.
“…Are you really Titania?”
“I need you to deliver this.”
When the command came from his revered father, Lisianthus Agni El Castrein had scowled. The only reason a sharp protest hadn't immediately leaped from his throat was out of sheer respect for the man sitting before him.
“…What about Raymond?”
“I have tasked your brother with another matter.”
Lisianthus had eyed the objects resting on the desk with deep suspicion. None of them had even been sealed in envelopes or locked cases, almost as if his father intended for him to inspect them personally: the card, the silver ring, the knight's badge, and a letter whose ink was so fresh it was barely dry.
As a scion of the Castrein family—where the power of the blade, medicine, and the quill were matters of daily survival—he couldn't fail to grasp what those items signified.
Why the hell are we handing these invaluable treasures over to that wretched woman?
Confusion burned hot in Lisianthus's red eyes. Personally, he despised Titania. In fact, he couldn't help but loathe her.
He hated the imperial palace, he hated the royals, and above all, he hated anything that dared stand in the way of House Castrein. His dignified older brother, his formidable father, his adorable youngest sibling, and the people of their northern domain—anyone outside that small circle was nothing more than a nuisance.
The other nobles? They were either braindead fools who slandered the northern dukedom based on groundless rumors, or parasites crawling over one another to beg for scraps. It pained him endlessly that his proud family was treated as mere hounds, shackled with the thankless duty of hunting demonic beasts to protect the empire while the capital wallowed in luxury.
“She might nominally be Raymond's fiancée, but is there any reason for me to show my face to her?” Lisianthus had muttered sourly. “Ten to one, she was just faking an illness to—”
“Your brother was noticeably shaken after facing Princess Titania upon her brush with death.”
The Duke's calm, measured words froze Lisianthus in place.
Lisianthus was acutely aware of his own shortcomings. He hated convoluted schemes. He detested shadow plays and transactional political maneuvering. His brother was vastly superior to him in every conceivable way, destined to inherit the dukedom; his own role was simply to trust Raymond and follow his lead. While Lisianthus took pride in his swordsmanship and genuinely loved the blade, he had long accepted that he couldn't match his brother.
In countless ways, he was the lesser son. Yet he never felt the slightest hint of bitterness. If anything, it only deepened his admiration and love for Raymond.
And that was precisely why he couldn't stand seeing that shameless, arrogant royal parading around as his brother's fiancée.
Maybe I should just take her place instead.
When Raymond had shared a single dance with another noblewoman at a banquet—a calculated distraction orchestrated solely to acquire Flamberge's Rage under everyone's noses—Titania had raised such an ungodly scene that she worked herself into a dead faint. Hearing the news, Lisianthus had been thoroughly disgusted. He had marched straight up to Raymond and made a proposal.
‘Let's be real, Brother. That slippery old snake of an Emperor doesn't actually expect to bind you to that birdbrained princess forever. Our youngest can't be dragged into this, so fine—I'll sacrifice myself.’
‘Lisianthus.’
‘Tch, I never cared about getting married anyway. My reputation can hit rock bottom for all I care. But you, Brother…’
You're already sacrificing far too much. Lisianthus had swallowed those words down tight.
Seeing his wild, hot-headed younger brother look so sincerely troubled over his future, a storm of complicated emotions had flickered across Raymond's golden eyes.
‘…Regardless, until the engagement is officially dissolved, she remains my responsibility.’
Looking back, Lisianthus wondered if it had just been his imagination, or if the gaze Raymond gave him at that moment had carried a weight far heavier than simple guilt.
‘Even if she is not someone I care for… one should never ask for a woman's hand when they hold no affection for her in the first place.’
That doesn't mean you have to love her, either!
Lisianthus hadn't spoken those words aloud only because he understood the tangled burden of honor weighing on Raymond's conscience. That insufferably haughty princess was nothing to them, yet Raymond carried a lingering sliver of guilt purely because he knew her feelings for him were genuine—a bitter truth the princess herself had likely never realized.
Still, Lisianthus trusted his brother. Raymond was the heir to the greatest duchy in the empire. Any speck of misplaced guilt or pity would eventually be scattered to the winds like dandelion fluff. He would make the right choice.
And yet, to see that magnificent brother of his agonizing over someone so entirely unworthy!
Lisianthus had been furious. So, he had sought out Titania himself, hurling venomous insults under the guise of standing in for his busy brother. Whenever she waited expectantly for Raymond, Lisianthus had appeared in his stead, mocking her and tearing her pride to shreds.
Whenever she flew into an uncontrollable rage, cursing and trying to slap him across the face, Lisianthus had never let her land a single blow. He would let her charge straight toward him, then step aside at the very last second, watching with immense satisfaction as she tumbled face-first onto the marble floor, grinding her teeth in pathetic fury.
Seeing that woman—who was so desperately obsessed with maintaining her lofty, untouchable facade—choke on her own rage and gnash her teeth on the carpet had been intensely gratifying.
A woman like that, daring to become my brother's companion? If no one else is going to put her in her place, then I'll do it myself. If she breaks and gives up on her own, it'll make life so much easier for Brother.
That was what he had believed.
“Go and see for yourself,” the Duke's voice had cut through his recollections. “Judge her with your own eyes.”
And now, they're saying surviving a brush with death changed her? That Brother was actually rattled?
“…Fine, I understand,” Lisianthus had answered with a defiant grin. She's just putting on an act. Scratch the surface just a little, and the same old venomous brat will come screeching right out.
“Don't you worry, Father. I'll make sure to shake her down until her true colors spill all over the floor!”
Brimming with cocky confidence, Lisianthus had taken the items and set off for the imperial palace, utterly convinced of one simple truth:
There was no way in hell Titania could have changed.