HSDOE 42

Chapter 42

 Warm Ginger Tea

“Ancient magic…”

Rasilia slowly repeated Dekan’s words.

There were hardly any records of ancient magic in Delarta. Perhaps the only place where such records remained was the Eliadine Empire—the land with the longest history on the continent.

“Yes. For now, that’s the most plausible explanation,” Dekan continued.

The foundation of magic wasn’t rooted in humanity. Rather, it came from harnessing a particular force found in the natural world.

Modern magic referred to that force as mana, and magic circles were used to manipulate it.

However, ancient magic was said to rely on a different force altogether. It began by using summoning arrays, but the very nature of the power was unlike mana. This force, said to come from beyond dimensions, might have had the capacity to affect humans directly.

“In that case… the culprit is clear.”

It must be the Knights of Saint Malik. Ivette had once spoken of how they worshipped ancient magic and were attempting to restore it.

“But for now, it’s only speculation. We suspect ancient magic was used, but we have no solid proof.”

“And since they’ve become holy knights under the temple’s protection, we can’t make any rash moves.”

“You’re exactly right.”

Silence fell between them.

It was clear that the Knights of Saint Malik had turned their gaze toward the Imperial Family.

Dark thoughts rippled through Rasilia’s mind.

‘They tried to strip me… Were they trying to confirm the mark?’

The Marchioness of Pashard, who was connected to the temple, knew the mark would eventually disappear. Since then, the Marchioness hadn’t stepped foot outside her estate—but that didn’t mean the secret hadn’t leaked.

‘Once they prove I’m a fake… what will they do next?’

Until now, Rasilia believed the only one in danger if her identity was exposed would be herself. After all, the emperor would be able to find his true partner—it might even be better for him in the end.

‘But if the temple decides to exploit that truth… could it really be a good thing?’

Sooner or later, people would discover the secret of the Blue Moon.

That once the emperor met his Blue Moon partner, he would transform into a demon. That there was no way to control it.

It would put the emperor in danger too.

‘The best solution is to find the real partner as quickly as possible.’

That way, the danger would rest solely on her.

“Pi…”

Perhaps her face had grown somber—PiPi chirped, looking at her with concern.

“Ah… It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

PiPi wasn’t the only one watching her closely.

“I have a question for Your Majesty, the Empress,” Dekan said suddenly.

“What is it?”

His eyes fixed intently on her.

Rasilia didn’t know what kind of power lay behind the shaman’s gaze—but she knew not to let her guard down.

He was searching her for traces of sorcery. The shadow knights—none of whom trusted an empress who had deceived the emperor for four years—were eager to uncover her secrets.

Just like the Knights of Saint Malik, they would seize any opportunity to expose her.

“How did Your Majesty manage to break ancient magic?”

“…?”

—

It wasn’t a force a powerless maid could have withstood, let alone a high-ranking knight like Serben.

A knight wasn’t made by swordsmanship alone. The countless hours spent training the body also honed the mind and spirit.

It wasn’t a spell that could be broken by someone merely shouting.

Yet Serben had claimed he was freed from the magic’s grip the moment the Empress had shouted for him to listen.

Lady Shuraiden, the first maid, had said something similar—that when the Empress ordered her to let go, her mind seemed to shatter free, and she regained clarity.

Both had said the same thing: it was the Empress’s voice that had broken the spell restraining their minds.

They couldn’t help but suspect that the Empress possessed some special power.

“…That’s not it,” Rasilia murmured, shaking her head.

“Even if it was ancient magic, it couldn’t have been complete. The Imperial tailor isn’t a mage or a holy knight.”

“The purpose completes the spell, whether it’s magic or sorcery,” Dekan replied. “Incomplete spells don’t just vanish. Unless a stronger force intervenes.”

“Then maybe the Knights of Saint Malik haven’t fully restored ancient magic. Maybe the spell was flawed from the start.”

“Are you saying Your Majesty had nothing to do with breaking their spell?”

“That’s what I believe. I’m no shaman or mage.”

She had the power of a prophet, but that only allowed her to dream.

“But you are protected by the phoenix. Records say the first partner was a shaman—and possessed many other abilities.”

“Phoenix?”

“The bird you’re holding.”

“Pii!”

PiPi chirped proudly and nodded.

“Ah…”

The bird of fire from her dreams—it must’ve been the phoenix.

There was no longer any doubt that PiPi would one day become that creature.

But she had to pretend not to know.

She couldn’t let anyone think she was the true partner.

“Why… why would you think that? PiPi’s just a little bird.”

“You didn’t know?”

Dekan’s voice was laced with genuine surprise.

“Surely you saw right away that she was different from other birds.”

“…I didn’t. I just thought she was unusually affectionate. I still find it hard to believe she’s a phoenix. She can’t even produce fire.”

“Pii! PiPi! PiPiPi!”

PiPi flapped wildly in protest, circling Rasilia and mimicking a gagging motion—clearly trying to spit out fire.

But nothing happened.

Eventually, she collapsed dramatically onto Rasilia’s palm.

“See? Just a little bird.”

“…You’ll know in time. My questions are done. I’ll take my leave now.”

Dekan’s gray eyes were clear and calm—like still water.

Rasilia felt as though he could see through her lies with those eyes.

She gently stroked PiPi, trying to mask her unease.

“Pii…”

The warmth curled into her palm. It melted away her anxiety.

She needed to leave—before she got too used to this warmth.

—

Lescale had spent the entire day in a flurry of activity.

He received real-time reports from the Silver Shields, kept track of the temple and the snake-headed bastards, and dedicated all his focus to tracking down the mastermind behind this incident.

He didn’t return to the Empress’s quarters until very late that night.

Thud.

Rasilia had not yet fallen asleep.

She heard a soft sound—too faint to be a knock.

‘It must be the emperor.’

That tiny sound said so much.

He must have stood there for a long while, contemplating whether to knock. Maybe he had approached without thinking, only to stop, realizing how late it was.

“….”

After a moment of thought, Rasilia rose and opened the door to her bedroom.

Somehow, she had a feeling he’d still be there.

“…Did I wake you?”

Her hunch had been right—he hadn’t gone to the adjacent room. He was still standing outside.

“No, I couldn’t sleep. What brings you here, Your Majesty?”

“I brought you this.”

“…?”

Rasilia looked at the cup in his hand.

It had a lid—unusual for tea, which was typically served with a pot and sweets.

The lone cup in his hands seemed strange.

“What is it?”

“You were asking about this, weren’t you?”

“Me?”

She had no memory of such a thing.

“I heard from a maid.”

“Ah…”

Then there could only be one explanation. He must have brought her ginger juice.

But instead of a glass, it was in a teacup—how odd.

“Seems the young lady misunderstood. I told her I didn’t like ginger juice.”

“Ah…”

A short sigh escaped Lescale.

“She said it’s good for colds… I was certain…”

His rare expression—so visibly embarrassed and deflated—made her feel uncomfortable in turn.

‘Why does he keep making me soft?’

Rasilia swallowed a sigh and shook her head.

“Let me have it.”

Lescale’s face lit up instantly.

“You’ll drink it?”

“A little.”

He hurried to remove the lid.

Steam billowed out. Now she saw why he’d held the cup with both hands—he’d been trying to keep it warm.

“I asked them to make it taste good. Since ginger on its own is bitter.”

“Did you?”

No wonder it smelled and looked different from the ginger juice Floata used to prepare.

“If you don’t like it, tell me.”

His golden eyes gleamed with anticipation. She couldn’t bring herself to ignore that look.

“….”

Rasilia took a breath and cautiously brought the cup to her lips.

“…Ah.”

It tasted entirely different.

Warm, smooth, and sweet.

The heat of the ginger lingered, but the nuttiness of ground peanuts softened it, making it pleasant. Sweetness coated her tongue, and a hint of citrus at the end left her mouth refreshed.

“It’s… delicious.”

As soon as she said it, Lescale exhaled deeply in relief.

“I’m glad.”

Before she knew it, Rasilia was taking another sip.

She didn’t miss Floata’s sharp, spicy ginger juice in the slightest.

“…Will this be enough to calm your anger?” Lescale asked slowly, after watching her drink.

“Was I angry?”

“You were. About the task I gave to Dekan.”

In truth, she had long since let go of that anger. If it could even be called that.

“…It was a valid reason to be upset, wasn’t it?”

She spoke coolly to hide her honesty.

Lescale’s shoulders dropped.

“I know. That’s why… I want to make it up to you. Tell me what I must do to ease your anger.”

She didn’t need anything.

He didn’t need to act so earnestly.

But she couldn’t say that.

“Bring me more of this.”

She returned the empty teacup to him.

“Just like now—Your Majesty, personally. Don’t send anyone else.”

She thought he might find it troublesome or awkward.

But to her surprise, Lescale smiled.

“That’s all?”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

“I know. But… I’m glad that what I brought pleased you.”

“….”

Before she could respond, he leaned in and brushed her ear with his lips.

“Thank you.”

He turned away, taking the empty cup with him.

And just before leaving, he added:

“Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

“….”

Then, without a sound, Lescale broke into a run.

Watching him disappear so quickly, just as he promised, left Rasilia with a strange feeling in her chest.