Seeds of Suspicion
It was a lavish chamber.
In lieu of doors, sheer, diaphanous curtains hung across the wide arches, billowing softly with every passing draft. It was an exotic sight, more reminiscent of a distant desert kingdom than the heart of the Empire. Yet Imperial Consort Cleo, as always, spared no expense when it came to indulging the Emperor’s whims. Even more so when serving her own ambitions. Wealth not used when needed is worse than having none at all—that had always been her creed.
Consequently, her palace was crowded with curiosities seldom found anywhere else: priceless foreign silks, dubious incense purported to kindle a man’s desire, and antique furniture coated in so many layers of herbs and subtle toxins that a mere brush against bare skin could prove lethal.
In that very room, Consort Cleo murmured in a chilling voice.
“Where did that little wench get her information? Hmph. The library? A brat who’s never touched a book in her life? It’s all an act.”
Beside her, Mary bowed fawningly and spoke up.
“A-As I mentioned before, Princess Titania isn’t... particularly bright, is she? Could she truly have done what Your Highness suspects...?”
Consort Cleo struck Mary across the cheek with the fan she held in her hand.
Smack! Mary’s head whipped to the side. Her eyes twitched with pain, but she quickly masked it, forcing a foolish, subservient giggle.
Inevitably, the entire imperial palace had been thrown into an uproar following the incident with Bibi and Titania. The Castreins had already turned the palace upside down searching for Bibi, but the chaos they unleashed to save Titania was even greater. Because the Empress’s palace was the closest to the center of the palace grounds, Titania had been carried straight into an empty bedchamber there, while a High Priest was practically dragged in by force as if abducted. The servants of the Rose Palace had been entirely shut out.
In truth, even if the Rose Palace had been closer than the Empress’s residence, it was doubtful Raymon would have taken her there. Even after Titania’s treatment began, the Castreins posted their own guards around the clock, refusing to trust a single soul from the imperial household.
The servants of the Rose Palace trembled in dread.
Everyone knew Titania was an unloved, neglected princess with no one in her corner. Even if they had served their mistress with utter negligence, no one had ever held them accountable. But now, of all people, Titania had saved the life of the Castrein family’s newly adopted daughter—a child they treasured like gold. To make matters worse, word had reached the Emperor’s ears that the servants hadn’t even realized their mistress was missing for hours.
‘Must I hear of an imperial princess vanishing within the palace from those brutes?! Do you have any idea how insolently that arrogant pup treated me?! What in the world are those servants doing?!’
While the Emperor raged over Raymon’s brazen insolence toward him, he showed tremendous interest in the ‘debt of gratitude’ Titania had placed upon Duke Castrein’s house. How Titania had been treated in the Rose Palace until now did not matter to him in the slightest. The Emperor wanted only one thing.
‘If this incident can definitively secure the marriage between Titania and the Young Duke, so much the better.’
And for that goal, he believed any means were justified.
For instance, had the Castreins not made their intentions unmistakably clear by dragging a High Priest in and tending to her with obsessive care; had the brothers of the Castrein family not employed the overbearing tactic of taking turns guarding the Empress’s palace...
He might have subtly ensured a scar was left on Titania’s body. That way, he could insist, ‘Look what has become of her on your account; the Castrein Duchy must take responsibility and take Titania in as the future mistress of your house.’
Divine power could mend virtually any physical trauma, but healing a fresh wound was an entirely different matter from erasing an old, settled scar. To heal a scar that the body already perceived as fully recovered required cutting into the flesh anew. Since one could not deliberately take a blade to the body of a noble princess, his plan would have been: You must take responsibility for a ‘blemished’ princess.
That had been the Emperor’s scheme, but it was thwarted completely by the Castrein Duchy brazenly shielding her until she regained consciousness. They didn’t allow a shred of information regarding her condition to leak outside the Empress’s palace. The Empress, too, had lent her palace in lockstep with the Castreins’ resolute maneuvers.
With events unfolding in such a manner, it was only natural that Consort Cleo, sensing something amiss, summoned her pawn planted in the Rose Palace. Fearing that sending someone too capable might lead them to manipulate the young princess and scheme an escape from the consort’s grasp, Cleo had chosen mediocre pawns. Yet to think they would prove this utterly useless!
Consort Cleo clicked her tongue openly as she watched Mary’s trembling face.
“F-Forgive me, Your Highness! I was foolish!”
“Does that wench seem like the sort to disregard her own life? She’s nothing more than a cowardly mouse. There’s only one thing capable of making that foolish creature lose her head: her fiancé. Well, yes, he certainly is an exceptional man. But...” Consort Cleo narrowed her eyes, her tone sharp with irritation. “How on earth could that girl have known that the Castreins’ ‘new family member’—whose arrival wasn’t even known properly within the imperial palace—was coming, let alone lay a trap and throw herself in the line of danger?”
“If even Your Highness, in your great wisdom, does not know, then a lowly creature such as I could never fathom it.”
Consort Cleo looked down icily at Mary, who was prostrating herself in sheer terror.
Is it time to dispose of this idiot? The servants of the Rose Palace had already fallen out of the Emperor’s favor. It might be wise to sever this loose end quietly before any blame could trace back to her.
She did not doubt for a moment that Titania’s actions were an orchestrated performance. To call it a coincidence was far too convenient. What courage could that insolent little mouse possess to throw herself in harm’s way—not even for her fiancé, but for some newly adopted sister in his family? What if she had died?
Naturally, she must have known she wouldn’t die before she leapt, counting on the Castreins to rescue her. It was entirely possible she had discovered the movements of the precious adopted daughter beforehand and deliberately lured the child to that spot.
That was what worried Consort Cleo most.
If this truly was Titania’s doing, the girl was far too clever. On top of that, she was on the verge of claiming the title of the Castrein family’s ‘benefactor.’ Leaving her unchecked would almost certainly invite disaster in the future.
Yet reconsidering it, did Titania possess the means to orchestrate such a plot?
Hardly. It was difficult even to direct genuine fury at the Rose Palace servants for failing to watch her every move, for what had Titania ever done with her days? Vain and obsessed with appearances, she had spent her time waiting endlessly for Raymon, changing her gowns ten times a day, braiding and unbraiding her hair, and starving herself under the pretense of maintaining her figure. She would pen rambling, tearful letters begging him to visit the palace, only to take out her frustration on the servants whenever no reply arrived.
At best, she pressed flowers in the garden to make bookmarks, spun in circles practicing her so-called ‘graceful gait,’ or rehearsed dances she would never share with her fiancé at any banquet. An ignorant brat who could do nothing more than throw tantrums, scream, and weep whenever she actually met him.
Foolish little girl.
Did she truly believe Raymon would marry her simply because she was the Emperor’s daughter and the match was commanded by imperial decree? Well, her stupidity had made her easier to manipulate, which was convenient enough, but...
Clicking her tongue, Consort Cleo set down her fan and accepted a sweet confection silently offered by Natalie, who stood a pace behind her. Soothed by the sight of a truly capable confidante—so unlike the bumbling Mary—Consort Cleo’s voice softened slightly as she inquired, “Is there any word from the Licorice Palace?”
“There has been no reaction whatsoever.”
“She is an absurd woman, through and through. How many men are there in the world, and just how long ago was that affair? Regardless of the past, she chose to enter the palace on her own two feet and bore a child; that ought to have been the end of it. What good is being the empire’s peerless beauty? Withered and lifeless, she acts as though she couldn’t care less whether her daughter lives or dies. If she intends to exist like that, she might as well drop dead.”
Consort Cleo genuinely considered Imperial Consort Elaine a fool. Whatever the circumstances, the moment she caught the Emperor’s eye at that banquet, her fate had been sealed.