MBOMEN 19

Chapter 19. The King’s Younger Brother of Siorow (6)

Lyla had been lying on her bed for over an hour, staring up at the ceiling.

The triangular blue shapes converging toward the center of the ceiling shimmered faintly every time she narrowed her eyes. At first, she thought she was seeing things—but she wasn’t.

Lapis lazuli, she thought. Lyla remembered seeing her mother add powdered lapis lazuli to a mysterious tincture once.

What would’ve happened if the residents of Lijikus had known there was lapis lazuli in her house? Would they have left it alone, pretending not to know?

‘Of course not. They would’ve taken everything.’

Her fingers, resting on her flat stomach and overlapping each other, twitched slightly.

As she absentmindedly tapped the solid object beneath her fingernail, it finally dawned on her. With a curious expression, she raised her right hand.

A deep blue sapphire ring adorned her slender, pale finger.

“Keep wearing that. That way, no guards will try to stop you wherever you go. Of course, there are some restricted areas… but you wouldn’t be able to find those on your own anyway, so it should be fine.”

In short, the ring was a kind of pass Ustar had given her. In this complex, vast, and highly secured royal palace, it was essentially her only protection—as she was neither noble nor royal.

When she first heard she had to have an audience with the King of Siorow, Lyla had experienced what it meant to be so shocked that your vision turns white. Her mind went blank as if dreaming, and then—hiccups.

“I told you why I’ve been looking for you, didn’t I, Lyla? The reason my brother wants to meet you is probably the same. I might oversee the agents of Tentinella, but His Majesty the King stands above all officials in this kingdom.”

It wasn’t a hard explanation to accept. If what he said was true, then the real master of this palace was King Ord, Ustar’s older brother, and it made sense that she would have to greet him—at least out of courtesy, since she was being hosted here.

‘Ugh… I really hate this.’

With a long sigh, Lyla suddenly sat up.

She smoothed out her wrinkled dress and tidied her messy hair. Cautiously opening the door, she stepped outside. The corridor was mostly empty except for a few guards standing like statues and a couple of servants.

“Are you going out, miss?”

The maid Mel, who had been arranging flowers on a marble pedestal, asked her. Thankfully, her tone held no hostility or suspicion.

“I just wanted to take a short walk. Is that okay?”

“Of course. Should I accompany you?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll go alone. Um… if I get lost, can I ask someone for directions?”

Mel chuckled quietly.

“Ask the guards or anyone passing by where ‘Ambrejong’ is. That’s the name of your room. It means ‘Room of the Golden Amber.’”

“Ambrejong… That’s a bit hard to pronounce. But thank you.”

Mel gave a slight curtsy as Lyla stepped away.

As she walked the long corridor, Lyla tried not to let her footsteps echo too loudly. Still, each click of her shoes on the polished floor rang out like shattering glass.

Lyla didn’t know where she was headed.

At first, she tried to remember decorations or pillar shapes to find her way back, but soon realized it was pointless.

Everything here was unfamiliar, and lavish decorations filled every hallway.

Before the issue in Sync and the rumors of the “Black Hole” in Lijikus, Siorow had been a thriving kingdom.

Even now, aside from Sync, the country seemed relatively stable inside and out.

That is, except for the king—Ord Hyunmorik—who was growing weaker by the day due to an unknown illness. And he hadn’t taken a queen or named an heir…

‘Why hasn’t he taken a queen?’

She was curious for a moment but quickly dismissed the thought. It wasn’t her concern.

Wandering aimlessly, Lyla suddenly stopped and looked back. She’d been walking a while, yet hadn’t encountered a single person.

When she first left her room—what was it called again? Embroshong?—she’d seen noblewomen in a distant corridor and guards headed toward the gardens.

But now… a chill brushed her arm.

No—it wasn’t just a feeling. Something had touched her skin. Even though she wore long sleeves, the sensation was unmistakable.

Lyla wanted to believe it was just the wind, but she couldn’t lie to herself.

She had seen too many spirits—interacted with them directly. The difference between wind brushing fabric and something passing through you was unmistakable.

‘There’s something here…’

But she couldn’t see anything. The cold sensation passed quickly and didn’t return. The air was still and warm.

But that warmth felt wrong.

It was like when a child knows they’ve done something bad and their mother still smiles while giving them a snack. A calm, suffocating dread settled deep in her belly.

The child knows—once the snack is gone, that smile will disappear, and the scolding will come.

I should go back, she thought.

But the moment she turned around, a wall was standing where nothing had been just moments ago.

“No… no way.”

She pressed her hand against it. Cold. Solid. A real wall.

“This can’t be happening. Hello? Is anyone there?”

She pounded her fist and shouted, but nothing happened. The wall stood firm, and her voice crumbled like sand against it.

She turned and gasped—the hallway had stretched. There had been five busts between her and the corner—but now?

There were more than ten.

Lyla clenched her trembling lips and instinctively grasped the ring on her finger. She couldn’t stay here. She had to keep moving—somewhere, anywhere.

Stay calm. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

The first bust was of a woman. Her hair was elegantly styled and adorned with a lemon-colored diamond hairpin.

The next… and the next… Lyla realized they were all the same woman—only the accessories or hairstyle changed.

No names were inscribed, but from the crown over the veil hiding half the face, it was clear—she was royalty.

‘Fifth one… there used to be a corner here.’

She stopped and touched the wall. Cold. Solid. No echo when tapped—completely sealed.

“I guess I have no choice but to keep going…”

Rubbing her face with both hands, she bit her lip and kept walking. As she glanced at the sixth bust, her steps faltered.

It was smiling.

Barely perceptible, but compared to the previous ones, unmistakable.

Maybe the sculptor tried to give it a different expression. Lyla tried to reassure herself and walked faster.

The seventh bust smiled wider. The eighth had furrowed eyebrows. Its lips stretched in an unnatural, broad grin.

This was a trap. And as that realization hit, Lyla saw the ninth.

Its face was horribly twisted in a grotesque smile—a terrifying blend of laughter and screaming.

And she heard it. A laughter only she could hear—sharp like a blade and poisonous like black mold growing in the cracks of walls.

“Let’s snap that girl’s neck like rotting wood.”

A whisper suddenly cut through her mind. Goosebumps rose all over her body. She couldn’t even scream.

Then, she looked up—and saw her.

A woman. Hair twisted up just like the busts. Only her back was visible, but Lyla knew—this was the one who made the trap.

“Wait!”

Lyla shouted. Her voice echoed against the walls. But the woman didn’t turn around—she silently slipped around the last corner and vanished.

I have to follow her.

Even if it meant stepping into an even deeper trap, she couldn’t stay here.

These busts… this laughter… if she stayed any longer, she would surely go mad.

“Damn it, I said wait!”

Lyla ran down the hallway. Her heart dropped as she caught a glimpse of the last bust—its eyes, nose, and mouth melted away.

Something had happened here. In this palace.

She barely glimpsed the woman’s back again—just as she rounded the corner.

And froze.

It was the same corridor she’d come from.

She spun around. A wall again.

“No…”

She gasped, panting hard. Leaning against the wall, she collapsed to the floor.

A sharp pain throbbed in her right middle finger. Her ring had hit the floor and cut her skin.

As she frowned and raised her hand—

Suddenly, from somewhere, she heard Ustar’s voice.

“Lyla?”