Benjamin blinked at the odd line of questioning.
"You're the Princess of the Emberlain Kingdom, my lady. As such, it's my duty to serve you."
"Duty, yes. But you don't like me on a personal level."
Benjamin thought he could easily retort back but failed to do so.
"I thought so."
He knelt and lowered his head in a bow. "Please punish me for my impudence, Princess. I didn't mean to give off that impression. I serve the royal family with utmost sincerity."
"For now, you're tasked with serving me, but…it'll be tough if you don't look eye-to-eye with me," Vivia said.
He frowned.
"I want you to be at ease and express your thoughts about me freely."
Benjamin glanced away once, and Vivia had a feeling he had quite a lot to say - unsavory things to be exact, which he didn't know if a princess could stomach it or not.
"No, Princess. I have nothing to say."
"Let's just say I'm giving you an order. Will you not follow my order?"
The troublesome command changed his expression, and a flash of annoyance crossed his eyes. The frustration of being put on a babysitter's duty was enough of a torture on its own.
"Don't worry, your head won't come under the guillotine."
"I don't worry about my head, my lady. I worry about…yours."
"What's wrong with my head?"
Benjamin threw her a look as if asking what wasn't wrong?
After much contemplation, he finally spoke. "It's troublesome for His Majesty if my lady has thoughts…far too removed from his own or His Highness's."
"You mean to say my aspirations don't align with his."
"Your aspirations to unify the two realms doesn't match with anyone's," he said bluntly. "As a princess, your marriage should help solidify His Majesty's position. Instead, you work towards studying literature and history that nobody cares about. Nobody cares about the demons. Nobody wants to care about the demons. But your stubbornness keeps putting His Majesty and the future politics in an uncomfortable position."
"Won't the future politics become stronger if the two realms can shed their hatred for each other?"
"That future is just like the stars. We can admire them all we want but only from a far distance."
She didn't respond.
"Furthermore, my lady went as far as helping a criminal escape," his expression hardened.
"It doesn't matter whether you believe that red-haired woman is under a false impression. It doesn't change the fact that she attacked a member of the royal family and as such, must be duly investigated and punished. Else tomorrow, everyone will come forward demanding a pardon. A betrayal to the country or to the royal family would mean no consequence if perpetrators are allowed to escape. What you did was immature and naive to say the least."
"But what should I have done? Even if I would have proved that she was under a misunderstanding, how could a crime against a royal member be pardoned?"
His eyes narrowed. "The degree of her punishment would've depended on the result of Aeren's investigation. But no, she would not have been fully pardoned. I fail to understand why you fail to understand your position. So much so that you fought with Lady Judith over a complete stranger."
Stranger…
To Clairette she was. To Vivia, she wasn't.
"I don't necessarily dislike my lady. But your worldview is too innocent for your own good. I'm a military man. I know little about politics, but what I do realize is that some dreams are better left unchased. We don't have to love the demons. We simply need to cooperate with them and maintain peace."
A faint vibration stirred her and she stared down at her opal ring - the same jewel she had been made to buy at the Demon Realm's festival. The jewel usually didn't shimmer much.
But now, it was glowing with an emerald green hue.
Why is it glowing here? Is some misfortune going to fall upon me here? Or wait, it can be good fortune too.
Vivia glanced at the towering sheaf of papers on the desk once and sincerely prayed for it to be the latter. She had enough bad luck to worry about - like finding out if Elvin or Aeren were involved in Sir Malphas's death. Then came Claudia's cousin, Martin's disappearance. It also didn't help that someone knew about the real Clairette's death. No other letter had come through the door after the first, neither did anybody in the palace ask her any suspicious questions.
The glowing ring drew her attention back. Strangely enough, she felt nothing dark or foreboding. On the contrary, the flutter in her chest felt like she was on stage - the distinct mix of excitement coupled with anxiety and anticipation.
Dance…
The thought of it sank her shoulders. It had been a long time since she had danced on a real stage and moved her body freely like a bird. She missed the beat of Emil and Ella's music and the swirl of her kirtle that fluttered with the wind. She missed the cheers and clapping of an audience that filled her chest with zest.
I want to dance again…
Forcing through the melancholy, she slapped her cheeks to reality. What she was concerned more about was the ring and its inexplicable sheen. For a moment, a dull pain coursed through her body. She held her temple, slightly breathless. A faint sensation of something scouring her insides gave her the chills.
"My lady?"
"I'm okay. Just a little headache…" Though it was far from true.
To divert her attention, she picked one of the scrolls out of idle curiosity. It included administrative records of worship and weekly sermons, education timelines for young nobles and commoners, scrollwork and transcriptions of ancient texts and financial ledger among much more. The tedious financial records alone made Vivia's head spin, and she promptly put them aside.
She reached for another sheaf, and things here were considerably worse. She couldn't make heads or tails of the words written on them. It appeared to be some sort of a history mapping being projected like a family tree. But instead of a top-down approach, the sketch was going bottom-up.
I have no idea what to do here…Why was Clairette drawing a family tree? Whose family tree?
She glanced at Benjamin, who hadn't moved from his post.
"*Ahem*! If you could please come here for a moment…"
Benjamin walked over to her side. "Yes, my lady."
"I'm having a little trouble remembering some parts here and there, so can you kindly help me out?"
He frowned. "I don't know what my lady was working on."
"Do you know what these names mean?"
Benjamin took a look.
"It looks as though my lady was mapping the lineage of the Covenant's priests," he then pointed at one name. "Father Hector here was the last priest before Father Iorick took over. And this is Father Kenneth who worked as the priest before Father Hector. It seems my lady is trying to trace the line as far back as possible."
Ugh…This is so boring! How am I supposed to work on things like finding lineages? Why was she even working on something like this?
"Thank you…" she said dejectedly.
She then felt his unblinking stare and looked up. "You want to ask something."
"I was only wondering…how much of your memories do you not remember?"
Her heart thudded. She couldn't be too sure if she was overreacting but ever since finding the mysterious letter, every question felt like a pointed needle of suspicion.
"I believe it's not that serious. Madam Miriam says so too. As you can see, I pretty much remember all the important events and people."
"I see."
Vivia stared. "Is something the matter? Do you think…I'm forgetting something important?"
"Nothing, my lady."
Benjamin didn't leak much of an expression, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was being sneaky about something. That this wasn't an innocent question in passing.
All of a sudden, Vivia jumped on her feet and dashed towards the door. She stepped into the corridor, glancing left and right.
"My lady!" Benjamin caught up to her. "What happened?"
"Someone was standing outside the door. I saw a shadow hovering around…"
"Please head back, my lady. I'll take-"
His words fell to deaf ears as she rushed to the corridor's end. She took a turn at the stairs and caught a figure making her way down.
"Annie?"
The young woman startled and looked up. "Princess? Do you need anything?"
Vivia studied her features, which didn't leak any anxiousness or furtiveness. Her steps were calm and slow. Her expression gave away nothing.
Was it just my imagination?
"Could you come up for a moment? I want to ask you about a man named Martin Grisbane."