Chapter 78
Even the Reason for Anger
The reinforcements arrived at the imperial palace around midnight.
Among them was none other than Rescal, whose presence alone was so overwhelming that no one dared to even address him casually.
“Here, faint though it is, there are traces left behind.”
Around that time, Decan also returned to the duke’s residence. He had heard only a brief report of the incident from the Silver Shield while on the way back, but the atmosphere at the residence was far more tense than he had expected.
It was as if they had to light a fire on thin ice while blindfolded—such was the suffocating mood.
The main cause was Rescal, who, with a frighteningly rigid expression, held tightly onto Lasilia’s hand.
“I’ve never seen it before, but… ahem, it looks like a magic circle of some kind.”
Decan, whose throat kept drying up, committed the discourtesy of clearing his throat in front of the emperor. But even when he coughed, his throat remained parched and itchy.
“Most likely a summoning circle.”
“So what you’re saying is, through the summoning circle, these things were called forth into human bodies?”
Serven, while asking, tapped at the halved monster with his sword tip.
“Don’t. You’ll end up like me.”
Riyan nonchalantly raised his left hand, blue and frozen stiff. Serven recoiled in disgust and quickly stepped back. Unfortunately, he accidentally met Rescal’s gaze in that moment, and like a frog staring at a snake, he froze stiff.
Decan gave Serven a brief look of sympathy before answering.
“That would be my guess.”
Rescal approached the monster. Still holding tightly to Lasilia’s hand with one of his own, he reached out with his other hand to touch the corpse wrapped in a cloak.
“Ah, Your Majesty! Please don’t! There may still be a curse lingering on it!”
Riyan quickly grabbed Rescal’s hand, but after meeting Rescal’s gaze, he faltered, and without understanding why, released his grip.
“A low-ranked demon… no, since it cannot speak, it would be more proper to call it a beast.”
That was Rescal’s judgment.
It was the first time he had spoken since arriving at the residence, so everyone felt a strange unfamiliarity.
His voice sounded as though something was pressing down on it.
“Then… does that mean it was summoned from the Demon Realm?”
Decan asked, and Rescal gave no needless words in return.
“Bring me a mage. Have them reconstruct as much of the circle’s remnants as possible from the traces left on the body.”
“As you command, but if this is a summoning circle for something from the Demon Realm, the guild’s mages may know nothing of it.”
“Indeed.”
“Then, perhaps…”
“Precisely. They don’t know, so they must learn. From now on. Otherwise, we’ll keep facing the same thing again and again.”
“Ah—”
Decan nodded belatedly, realizing the meaning. Normally he wouldn’t have been so slow to understand, but his nerves had gotten the better of him.
“I’ll relay your command.”
Riyan hesitated, then spoke up.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but might I suggest putting that thing down? The curse—”
“You said holy power worked?”
Rescal cut him off.
“…Yes. It was said to be a curse.”
“Unexpected.”
Pop!
The unexpected came immediately after.
Suddenly, crimson claws sprouted from Rescal’s hand. Like hardened, blood-red jewels, the talons pierced into the monster’s body.
“Y-Your Majesty?”
Shrrrk.
As the monster was impaled, it dissolved into black smoke, just as it had when touched by a curse.
“It dissipates. It does not die.”
“…What?”
“Because it was summoned. Unless it is dispersed, it will continue to exist.”
“Ah… ah, that explains it. That’s why it couldn’t be killed with a sword but was vulnerable to curses. Curses don’t simply steal life, they scar existence itself.”
“Most likely.”
The knights’ faces darkened.
“Finding a way to counter them must be our top priority. But seriously, why does that damn demon keep summoning new things? We only just discovered it could steal human consciousness, and now it’s… monsters? Ones that can’t even be killed?”
Riyan complained with a frown, then fell silent when he saw Rescal’s face.
His expression was far beyond merely “grim.” When his golden eyes flickered, the very air felt taut and suffocating.
“T-Then we’ll step out and recheck the route back to the palace.”
Riyan tugged discreetly at Serven’s sleeve to urge him out.
Decan, quick on the uptake, finished with a polite bow.
“Please, take what rest you can.”
The shadow knights slipped out noiselessly, leaving only Lasilia and Rescal in the duke’s study.
“Please, sit. At least for now.”
Lasilia gestured to a seat.
Rescal only stared at her, his face still rigid.
It was strange, yet not. He had been like this ever since returning to the residence.
“…It must hurt.”
“…What must?”
“Your hand.”
Seating herself on the sofa first, Lasilia signaled with her eyes toward his hand, still in a transformed state.
“…”
Rescal looked down at his hand slowly.
“Let go of my hand first. Only then can I tend to it.”
“…”
“Hurry.”
“…Hah.”
Rescal exhaled.
It was like the breath of a man who had been holding it in for far too long.
At last, he released her hand and sat down beside her, as she had suggested.
As he leaned his forehead against her shoulder, Lasilia gently clasped his altered hand with both of hers.
The transformation did not fade easily this time.
She felt the prickling of the scales against her palm as she spoke.
“When you don’t come back, I hurt too, Your Majesty.”
“…Haa.”
Another sigh escaped him, and only then did the transformation slowly begin to recede.
The fact that it lingered meant Rescal had wanted to stay in that form. And Lasilia had noticed.
“Perhaps I should remain like this. You were endangered.”
With his free hand, Rescal brushed her cheek.
She smiled faintly and leaned into his palm. Rescal’s shoulders gave a small tremor.
“Mm… But if you stay like this, I can’t touch you as much as I’d like.”
His golden eyes, which had been frozen like the end of the world, suddenly trembled violently.
“Suddenly saying things like that… I love it, but it feels strange. You would never say such things.”
He felt a twinge of guilt for trying to deny it.
“From now on, I plan to say it often. …Do you dislike it?”
“Of course not. …But still—”
His golden eyes narrowed.
“…You must have a reason.”
Yes—he must have noticed. Today, Lasilia was being impossibly tender.
“Because you’re angry, Your Majesty. Isn’t that so?”
“…Correct.”
The reason Rescal hadn’t spoken until now was simple: he was angry.
He wanted to speak, but the words stuck.
The moment he left, danger had come for Lasilia. That half-grown fledgling had tried to warn him, then collapsed after spitting out a few sparks.
Perhaps he had always known. That every time he was apart from her, danger might strike. That was why his heart pounded with unbearable anxiety each time.
But Lasilia had sent him back to the palace, and he, beguiled by three kisses, had foolishly chosen to endure his unease.
Now he burned with anger—though he couldn’t even tell at whom.
Why didn’t Lasilia want him at her side? If she had even a fraction, even the tiniest sliver of the desire he felt for her, then today’s danger could have been avoided.
Even now, she disarmed him.
She, who had been surrounded by monsters, smiled while worrying about his hand.
He wished for nothing more than that she would worry about the demons and monsters themselves, even just a little. Then she would never have told him to return to the palace.
“It’s fine if you don’t want me.”
The voice that slipped from his lips didn’t feel like his own—it was sharp, barbed, and not something he ever wished Lasilia to hear.
“I can wait for that. But if you use that as a reason to put yourself in danger, I cannot allow it. I cannot understand it. I cannot accept it.”
He broke off, clenching his teeth.
“…But you’ll only say the same thing again. That I cannot defy your wishes. And that… that is what’s so hard to endure.”
“No, Your Majesty.”
Lasilia quickly held his face in her hands.
“I didn’t ask you to stay away because I don’t want you.”
Rescal’s brow knit tighter.
“Then why? What other reason could there be?”
“As I told you. Because you cannot simply remain here forever without any preparation.”
“Why not? Where you are is where I belong.”
“It’s not just the two of us, is it?”
She smoothed the furrows of his brow with her thumb.
By now, tender gestures like this were becoming familiar to her.
She couldn’t keep blaming it on her past as a prophet forever. Unfamiliar though it was, she could learn to be at ease with it—because it was Rescal. Even his anger was so achingly dear.
“And outwardly, I am still someone waiting for my father’s passing. If I remain here with Your Majesty, I fear I wouldn’t be able to hide how happy I am.”
Rescal’s eyebrows shot up.
“Happy?”
“Yes. How could I not be happy, being with you like this?”
Rescal let out a sound, like someone wincing in pain.
“That’s… but who cares who sees?”
“I want to be a good empress. Perhaps I wasn’t a very good prophet—I couldn’t save King Verhoet in the end. But being a good empress… that is what I want.”
“That doesn’t mean you should bow to others’ eyes. And you are already a good empress. I can tell by how even my knights follow you.”
“That’s kind of you to say, but three shadow knights is a very small number, Your Majesty.”
Smiling softly, Lasilia rested her hand on his neck. His hand, which had been slow to return to normal, was now fully restored.
“But I understand your concern. If you have no pressing affairs awaiting you, I ask that you stay by my side for the time being.”
Only then did Rescal exhale a quiet, satisfied sigh.
“Gladly. If it is your wish, I’ll do anything.”
Lasilia leaned closer to whisper in his ear.
“Your Majesty, with your hearing, can you tell if anyone is nearby?”
“Yes.”
“How close are they?”
“Two at the door. Four farther beyond. More outside the building.”
“At the door… then they might hear something.”
“What sound? …If you’re worried, I’ll simply order them to move farther away.”
“No. That would be even more embarrassing. Instead, Your Majesty, you must hold back your voice.”
“What voice…? Ah—”
Rescal only understood her meaning after Lasilia’s lips pressed against his.
