"Welcome, Prince Lucian. I trust your journey from Sylvian was both safe and pleasant."
There was a practiced politeness in Marley's voice. Lucian did not allow even the slightest change to appear on his face, but inwardly, he was completely startled—'How did Marley appear here so suddenly…? Was she already waiting for this moment? The moment Elias finished speaking, she stepped forward… This all feels like a prearranged move.'
Keeping his voice as cold and expressionless as stone, Lucian replied, "Thank you for your concern and your greeting, Head Maid Marley. Would you escort Lyra to Her Majesty… if you are not occupied with more pressing duties of the palace?"
Deep down, Lucian knew Marley could not refuse his command—yet he wished to test it. Was her presence a coincidence… or was she waiting for this very moment?
"It would be my honor to carry out your आदेश, Prince," Marley said, bowing respectfully.
Without hesitation, Lucian turned at once, releasing Lyra's hand as he began walking swiftly toward his chambers. He needed answers to the storm rising within his mind.
"This… is not about Lyra," he murmured under his breath. "This is about me. So right now… I should be concerned about myself, not her."
As he walked, Elias followed behind him like an unseen shadow, his footsteps utterly silent.
Left behind, Lyra watched her brother's retreating figure. A faint confusion filled her eyes—as though she was trying to understand his strange behavior. 'I'll ask him about this later…' she thought quietly.
Following Lyra's gaze, Miss Marley gave a faint smile. "Princess Lyra, we should proceed. I believe you have much to speak about with Her Majesty."
Lyra remained silent. Though her gaze stayed forward, she was beginning to understand the weight behind everything being said. She turned without a word and walked beside Marley toward the opposite end of the corridor.
---
The Prince's Chambers – Fifth Floor
After passing through the endless spiral of stairways, they reached the fifth floor. Throughout the way, Lucian's eyes examined every servant ahead—their expressions, their movements. Behind him, the absence of Elias' footsteps only deepened the silence, unsettling his thoughts and pulling his attention back again and again.
For a brief moment, a thought crossed his mind—perhaps this was all the lingering effect of the incident in Sylvian… the Evil Spirit…
But then another question arose—how could news of it reach here so quickly?
Lucian took his final step and stopped before the door to his chamber.
The heavy wooden door was covered in intricate carvings, shaped by countless hands. Elias stepped forward and opened it. As the doors parted, a cold, stale air rushed outward.
Lucian entered and swept his sharp gaze across the room. Everything appeared exactly as he had left it—the heavy mahogany desk, the ink bottle in the corner, and the old feathered quill. Yet… there was an unfamiliar chill in the air.
Walking slowly through the room, Lucian ran his fingers along the edge of the desk and suddenly asked,
"Elias… has anyone entered this room in my absence?"
Elias placed a hand over his chest calmly. "No, Prince. Only a few maids entered for cleaning, and I personally oversaw them."
Lucian's gaze shifted upward to the grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The blue crystals embedded within it cast a faint, mysterious glow across the chamber.
He moved toward the window and drew aside the heavy curtains.
Outside, he noticed a few soldiers speaking quietly among themselves. His eyes narrowed for a brief moment—but the next instant, he stepped back… as though he no longer wished to look outside, but within.
He stood in silence for a few moments… and then his thoughts began to take shape.
'If I look at everything from the beginning… nothing has changed.'
'The people… their gazes… their behavior…'
'They have always seen me as weak… and even now, they look at me the same way… but today, there is something different in their eyes… more depth… more pressure…'
His brows furrowed slightly.
'And it is unsettling me… why can I not ignore it?'
His mind began connecting the pieces rapidly.
'Father… is not in the castle… Mother… did not come out… and Elias…'
For a moment, his eyes turned cold.
'He did not stop me… when he should have.'
'If Mother truly sent him… he would have insisted on taking me to her… but he didn't…'
His thoughts grew deeper.
'Was all of this… arranged beforehand?'
'Mother knew I would not go to her… so she prepared everything in advance… sending Lyra away… keeping me here… and leaving Elias with me…'
Lucian's fingers slowly curled into a fist.
'Then that means…'
A sharp glint appeared in his eyes.
'Mother wants me… to uncover the truth myself.'
'And for that… the most suitable person… is Elias.'
For a few moments, the entire chamber fell silent once more.
Just as he was lost in these thoughts, Elias' calm voice cut through the silence—
"Prince… it seems you wish to ask me something. Please, do not hesitate."
Lucian snapped out of his thoughts, slightly startled. He walked toward the silk sofa placed near the window and let himself fall onto it, relaxing his posture. As his fingers traced the edge of the sofa, he steadied his gaze.
"Why do you think that, Elias?"
Elias responded without hesitation, "Since your arrival, Prince, your eyes have been observing everything with suspicion. Your vigilance suggests that you are attempting to reach a conclusion. That is why I presumed you might wish to speak with me."
Lucian thought to himself—'This man is truly dangerous. His gaze does not rest merely upon my actions, but upon my thoughts as well. Father made him my butler for a reason… so that I would never be beyond his reach. I believed I had escaped his watch many times… but now it feels as though those were not my victories, but his permission. I must tread carefully with him.'
Lucian adjusted his posture on the sofa, sitting upright. His eyes, now sharp like a hawk's, fixed on Elias.
"My father… His Majesty—where has he gone, Elias?"
Elias took a slow breath. Bringing his hands forward, he interlocked his fingers in a composed steeple and looked at Lucian, his expression as calm as a still lake.
"My knowledge on that matter is limited, Prince. And as you are aware… His Majesty's destinations and intentions lie beyond the authority of servants."
The answer was precise—yet it concealed more than it revealed.
Lucian's mind began to whirl.
'Elias is not telling me everything… I thought Mother had sent him to me for a reason… then how am I supposed to understand all of this on my own?'
His thoughts shifted rapidly, exploring every possibility.
'Is something unusual happening today…? Could it be related to what occurred in Sylvian Village? The destruction there… the rampage of that Evil Spirit… such a thing cannot be hidden. The way everyone looks at me… it feels as though the news has already reached here. Perhaps Father left because of that… but where? Sylvian… or somewhere else?'
Lucian brought a hand to his head. The pressure of his thoughts was becoming tangible.
'If this is connected to me… then this is no ordinary matter…'
'I am already struggling to endure my life as it is… and now Sylvian has added to it… and even here, nothing feels normal… when it should not even matter to me… yet it does…'
'…But wait.'
Lucian abruptly halted his thoughts.
'Even if something has happened… even if it is connected to Sylvian… why should it concern me?'
'No… panic will give me nothing.'
Silence deepened within the chamber. Lucian remained seated, his head slightly lowered, lost in thought. Even for Elias, it was not easy to discern what was going on in his mind.
Elias calmly picked up the water jug from the table before the sofa and poured water into a carved golden goblet. As he bent slightly to offer it, his eyes remained perfectly still—Lucian's reflection resting within them like a cold mirror.
"Perhaps I should not say this, Prince…" Elias spoke, his voice blending with the chill in the room, "but you are the heir to His Majesty. I believe speaking the truth would violate no rule… nor would it displease the King."
Lucian took the goblet, yet his gaze never left Elias' face. The light from the window had begun to fade, and the room felt colder—like a frozen chamber.
"Then speak… what do you know, Elias?"
"His Majesty departed yesterday evening for the Aetheris River. He may return at any time," Elias said, folding his fingers together once more.
"A day prior, a High Priest from the Divine Kingdom arrived here…"
"He held a long private audience with His Majesty… and soon after, the King departed. I do not know the exact reason… but I have an impression…"
Lucian's eyes widened slightly. A chill ran down his spine.
'The Aetheris River…? There are still two years left before the ritual…'
'And why would a priest from the Divine Kingdom come here…?'
'Could this be connected to Sylvian…?'
'Has this matter… already reached the Divine Kingdom…?'
These thoughts only deepened his unease.
Lowering his head slightly, Lucian spoke, "I see… then tell me—what is this impression of yours, Elias?"
Elias paused for a moment, then said softly—
"Some answers… are not given directly, Prince. They must be understood."
Lucian lifted his head again, his gaze sharpening.'So now… he chooses to play games with me as well…?'
Suppressing the turmoil within him, Lucian launched his next question, "Should I present myself before Her Majesty now… or not?"
Elias remained silent for a few moments, as though weighing his words carefully.
"The answer… may be unsettling, my Prince."
"The incident at Sylvian Village has spread across the empire like a plague. The noble children who were present there have presented the घटना before their families—exaggerated, embellished. They claim that the Evil Spirit had completely overtaken both your body and your soul."
Lucian clenched his fist so tightly that his nails dug into his palm. He brought a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.
"So?" he said coldly. "What does that have to do with my question, Elias?"
Elias lowered his head further, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "It concerns the entire manor. Among the soldiers and servants, a fear has taken root… that you are still the bearer of that 'cursed power.' They look upon you with dread… and revulsion."
"That is why Her Majesty does not wish to present you before them—at least not yet. Not until she finds a way to cleanse this stain."
Lucian's mind began racing. 'So that's why the gazes in the corridor felt so hostile… I knew it was because of Sylvian.'
'Does even Mother… Her Majesty… now see me through the lens of corruption?'
'Does she too fear that the Abyssal Spirit still lingers within me?
'Then… is that why Father left as well…?'
'But then… why the Aetheris River?'
'What connection could Sylvian possibly have with that…?'
'Or is there… another game at play… one I have yet to see?'
Now Lucian began to understand why Elias had not stopped Lyra.
Lyra was innocent—a symbol of purity. But Lucian's public presence would be seen as a stain.
And yet… one question still gnawed at him—If I was meant to be hidden… then why did Elias initially suggest taking me to the main hall?
Sensing the melancholy and confusion within Lucian, Elias brought a hand to his mouth and coughed softly—an elegant interruption, pulling the prince out of his spiral of thoughts.
"My Prince," Elias' voice echoed through the cold chamber like velvet wrapped around a whip,
"your eyes cannot conceal the burden you carry."
"If you permit me… I would like to clear this haze for you."
Lucian's dull gaze lifted. He said nothing, but the tension in his expression was a silent invitation for Elias to continue.
Elias bowed slightly deeper, maintaining perfect composure.
"Her Majesty was well aware that your heart would long to meet her. However… even the walls of this manor now listen."
"She sent me here precisely because she had complete faith… that you would understand her warning without the need for words."
"She knew you would avoid such a public display and return to your private chambers… to first analyze this altered atmosphere."
Lucian blinked once.
'So this… was a test?
'Mother knew I would remove myself from that humiliating crowd…'
"Her Majesty has also instructed me to resolve your doubts… and to guide you through this political labyrinth," Elias continued, his gaze steady.
"That is why I speak before you with truths… that no other retainer would dare utter."
"She herself will come to meet you… under the silence of night—when the castle's 'poisoned' eyes are closed… and the walls cease to listen."
Lucian remained silent for a few moments…
As though he was no longer merely listenin—but weighing every word… and the meaning hidden beneath it.
Lucian rose from the sofa with effortless ease. After casting a brief glance at Elias, he walked toward his wardrobe and stopped before it.
Noticing Lucian's sudden movement—and understanding the meaning behind that look—Elias folded his arms and turned toward him, his voice calm and cold.
"My Prince… I believe there is still something you wish to know. However, I regret that I am unable to discern what exactly you are implying."
Lucian removed his doublet and looked into the mirror. His gaze was not on his own reflection—but on Elias, visible behind him in the glass.
Elias stood there, still as a statue, his eyes fixed upon Lucian.
For a few moments, Lucian said nothing.
Now dressed in a white tunic, Lucian continued to stare into the mirror. Then, breaking the silence, he paused… took a slow breath—"You did not answer… what you think—where Father, His Majesty, has gone… and why."
At Lucian's question, Elias reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, translucent needle—as though it were made of water. It was slowly melting, each droplet vanishing into the air the moment it touched the ground—so subtle it was almost impossible to perceive.
"My Prince…" Elias spoke. He removed the black leather glove from his right hand and pressed the needle into his finger. Slowly, it sank entirely into his skin.
Lucian clenched his teeth inwardly.
A faint redness began to rise in his eyes.
'I have hated this man since childhood…'
'Every movement of his… feels like that of a killer…'
'I have tried many times to uncover his truth… but failed every time…'
'And each time… he smiled at my failures… played with my emotions…'
"You are aware… I serve Her Majesty. And it was upon her command that I was sent specifically to you. She is… deeply concerned for you."
He paused for a brief moment. His eyes remained fixed—completely still.
"But I do not prefer to give direct answers… especially when the question itself is somewhat… distorted."
Elias flexed his fingers slightly, then slipped his glove back on.
Lucian observed every small movement of Elias through the mirror. He had seen this before—but had never understood what Elias was truly doing.
'And this… he never does in front of others—only in front of me…'
'One day… I will reveal his true face before everyone.'
He turned his gaze away and moved toward the bed.
"I know… and I understand that."
"But this habit of yours… I do not particularly appreciate, Elias."
"You will understand… my Prince," Elias replied calmly,
"once you rise above these matters."
He bowed slightly before continuing—"In any case… whether you concern yourself with these matters or not—it will make no difference."
"For now… you should focus on your present troubles, my Prince."
He paused briefly.
"Because whispers will arise… no matter how much Her Majesty attempts to suppress them."
Another pause.
"And I do not believe… that it will affect you in any meaningful way…"
Adjusting his black coat, Elias continued—
"…your tolerance is, after all, exceptional."
He paused again—deliberately choosing his words.
"After all… you have grown accustomed to enduring humiliation since childhood."
For a moment, the air in the room seemed to freeze.
Lucian, now seated on the bed, looked at him. He picked up a sapphire ring from beside the lamp and slowly rotated it between his fingers. His grip tightened slightly—yet his expression remained unchanged.
"Enough."
Lucian's voice was low… but the cold anger within it was unmistakable.
"You have spoken more than necessary, Elias."
He slowly raised his eyes—sharp, direct.
"Good. At last… you have removed this 'mask of goodwill.' And now… I have no desire to see your face any longer."
His voice remained quiet—yet the restrained fury beneath it was clear.
"Leave."
For a few moments, silence filled the room.
Elias looked at him. A faint glimmer appeared in his cold eyes—as though he had witnessed exactly the reaction he expected.
A slight smile touched his lips as he bowed. Placing a hand over his chest, he sought permission to withdraw.
Without another word, he turned and walked away. He knew—it was time to leave.
Reaching the door, he opened it and stepped out. Before leaving, he inclined his head slightly—offering one final gesture of respect.
Then Lucian's voice came from behind—
"Close the door properly… I do not tolerate even the slightest carelessness, Elias."
A faint smile appeared on Elias' lips.
"As you wish, my Prince."
As he closed the door, he paused for a brief moment—
"My Prince… tonight, a gathering has been arranged in honor of your and Princess Lyra's return."
His voice had grown colder than before.
"I shall see you again… very soon."
The door shut—
…and the heavy silence returned to the room once more.