HSDOE 35

Episode 35. The Third Knight (2)
 Reskal already knew what kind of place Trinidad was.

It was a city like the land of the dead, where the surviving shamans barely managed to keep their lineage alive, while swindlers and criminals pretending to be shamans lurked in hiding.

“Why there?”

“Viscount Pielion visited a month ago. It was an unusual move, so we began to keep an eye on it.”

Reskal’s face instinctively twisted at the mention of Viscount Pielion.

It was strange. Before the marriage, he hadn’t felt anything even though he knew about their relationship. But now, just hearing the name made his ears feel rotten.

“Was there anything worth watching?”

“He went to Trinidad to hire a shaman, but we couldn’t determine his exact goal. However, we did discover that he issued a travel pass to someone on his way back to the Empire.”

“A travel pass?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. So we suspect he may have brought a shaman back to the Empire.”

“A shaman…”

Tap.

Reskal set down the pen he had been holding.

The viscount who had once had an affair with the Empress before her marriage personally went to a lawless place like Trinidad to bring someone back. No matter how he thought about it, the implications were clear.

“Was the Empress involved?”

“It appears so. We traced the viscount’s activities in Trinidad—he spared no expense in finding a capable shaman.”

The words “spared no expense” implied a lot. The Pielion family was wealthy, but as an adopted son, the viscount didn’t have the authority to freely dispose of its assets.

The Duke of Pielion, known as the “old fox,” was the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to replace the viscount if someone better came along.

In the end, it wasn’t just the viscount who was looking for a shaman—the entire Pielion family was behind it.

“There must be something wrong with the Empress.”

Something that couldn’t be resolved with magic or divine power—a problem that required the level of shamanism.

“You said it was a month ago? Has the Empress visited the Pielion estate since then?”

“Not officially, Your Majesty. But she may have gone in secret. She was extremely tight-lipped about the arrival of the shaman.”

“She wouldn’t need to go through the Pielion estate to contact the viscount. That means the shaman was likely used sometime within the last month… Could it be the Empress’s memory loss is due to a spell?”

“Ah… that’s possible. Shamanism comes with side effects. If the shaman is inexperienced or the subject can’t endure the power, it often causes physical backlash.”

A creepy sensation began to crawl over him.

Something was happening to the Empress—something he didn’t know about.

Once, he wouldn’t have cared. But now, just the thought twisted his stomach.

Dekan, seeing Reskal’s face gradually harden, added quietly:

“It’s not certain, but the shaman may still be somewhere in the Empire. The travel pass issued under the name of Pielion hasn’t been used since.”

“If it’s a shaman, they’d know how to hide their face and move in secret.”

“That’s true, but… I feel like there’s more to it than that.”

Reskal glanced at Dekan.

“Are you saying that as a shaman?”

“I beg your pardon, but I’m not yet skilled enough to be called that.”

Dekan was likely the only shaman left in the Empire.

He originally studied theology to become a priest, but that led him to explore shamanism instead. With almost all shamans gone and no master to guide him, Dekan had learned everything on his own.

Regardless, shamans possessed something akin to a natural sense—a sensitivity to strange forces. If that sense was especially sharp, it could resemble foresight.

“If you feel something, then there must be something. You’re permitted to investigate.”

“It is an honor, Your Majesty.”

And Dekan had one more request.

“Also, Your Majesty…”

“Speak.”

“Forgive my impertinence, but I would like to meet the Empress.”

Reskal looked Dekan up and down.

“For what reason?”

“To check if there are any lingering traces of the shamanic spell.”

“…In that case.”

His tone implied he wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Keep it brief.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for your permission.”

Dekan bowed and silently disappeared.

“Today, I’ll be accompanying you instead of His Majesty. I hope that’s alright, Your Majesty,” Ivette said with a smile, offering her hand.

“No need to apologize. You’re more than enough,” Rasilia replied, taking her hand as they descended into the garden. The Emperor, who had joined her for lunch, couldn’t spare time for a walk. Being Emperor of the Empire was a busy job.

“Still, he looked really disappointed. He didn’t say it, but I could feel it clearly.”

Ivette believed without a doubt that the Emperor and Empress were fated to be together. In her eyes, the Emperor was the most loving husband in the world.

The only sad part was that the Empress didn’t seem to recognize that love.

But that was still better than the reverse—if the Empress had yearned for the Emperor while he remained cold, Ivette would have been heartbroken.

“…The weather is nice today. It feels like more flowers have bloomed.”

Rasilia subtly changed the subject. She was uneasy about Serben, who was trailing them at a distance.

Everything he saw or heard would be reported back to the Emperor. She wanted to avoid giving him too much.

“It really does look different from yesterday, Your Majesty.”

White blossoms had started blooming again in the once-barren Gardenia Garden.

After the Emperor had destroyed two gardens, Rasilia had refused to accept any more flowers. Fortunately, the palace gardens had returned to their usual beauty.

“I heard the imperial tailor is ecstatic. His Majesty told him to use any fabric or gem he wants. Apparently, he boasted that he’d create the most magnificent clothes ever. Everyone in the palace is talking about it these days.”

Rasilia gave a bitter smile.

‘I’d better leave those clothes untouched.’

All the new garments were gifts for his true consort—just like a garden with no flowers cut for bouquets.

“Oh, right! The Marchioness of Pashard is visiting tomorrow. Should we prepare refreshments?”

Ivette’s face became serious as the thought struck her.

“If you’ll allow me, I’ll prepare everything perfectly. I don’t want anyone saying the head maid, being of common birth, is lacking.”

“I don’t think refreshments will be needed. And you’re doing well. Even if the marchioness wanted to nitpick, she wouldn’t find a reason.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, you’re too kind. I’m sure she’ll find something to criticize.”

Ivette clenched her fists, already mentally preparing for the confrontation.

“Just do what you always do. And skip the refreshments. The marchioness won’t be in the mood for tea anyway.”

“Ah, true. You didn’t summon her for something pleasant. Then I’ll forget the tea and instead tidy up the drawing room again after the walk.”

“Do as you please.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the two chatted and passed the fountain—

“…What was that?”

An indescribably eerie sensation struck her.

With a shiver running down her spine, Rasilia instinctively pulled Ivette into her arms.

Splash!

The fountain water surged like a living creature and drenched Rasilia completely.

“Your Majesty!”

Serben came running.

But it was already too late. Rasilia was soaked from head to toe.

“Damn it! Who the hell did that?!”

Shing!

Serben drew his sword and—strangely—drove it into the floor of the fountain.

Crack!

The marble cracked and water splashed. In the mist, something shadowy flickered.

Shfft!

Serben caught the motion and stabbed without hesitation.

Ssst!

His blade tore through something.

“…Easy, will you?”

The shadow turned into a man.

“…Dekan?”

“Long time no see, Sir Sigris.”

Serben’s expression changed.

“What the— You bastard! Was that you? Are you out of your mind?!”

Dekan raised both hands.

“I swear by His Majesty’s name, I meant no harm to Her Majesty. My spell failed.”

“Ugh, I don’t even… Just get on your knees and beg.”

Dekan nodded and knelt before Rasilia.

“I have committed an offense. Please punish me.”

“…”

Rasilia stared at Dekan.

His words and posture were respectful—but that was all.

‘He doesn’t seem to think he did anything wrong.’

The strange sensation she felt before the fountain burst wasn’t a coincidence.

‘He said the spell failed… So he’s a shaman. There are still shamans in the Empire.’

There had to be a reason a shaman suddenly appeared before her.

“Let’s start with who you are. Sir Sigris seems to know you.”

“I am Dekan Horsed, the third shadow protecting the current Emperor.”

“A shadow knight? For someone like that, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“My mission lies outside the palace. There would be no occasion for you to see me inside.”

“Then why today?”

“My apologies. My spell failed. I accept punishment.”

“What was the spell for?”

Dekan hesitated, then raised his head and met her eyes.

“I wanted to check whether there were traces of recent shamanic magic on Your Majesty.”

“…”

Rasilia forced herself to stay calm.

‘So he knew Viscount Pielion summoned a shaman. He came to see if it was because of the Empress… Which means the Emperor knows too.’

The Emperor had discovered that the Empress had a secret. And now he wanted to confirm whether she had used shamanism. It was only a matter of time before he connected the secret to the magic.

‘The mark was fading… If he finds out I summoned a shaman to restore it, it’s over.’

Rasilia clenched her teeth silently.

The Emperor wasn’t stupid. Outwardly, he acted as though he would give her his heart just to get close—but behind the scenes, he was digging into her identity one layer at a time.

No matter how pathetic he seemed—like a dog chained to a stake—she couldn’t afford to waver. He could kill her with a word.

She slowly exhaled and asked the question that might get her killed:

“…So, did you find any traces?”