#42. So… a Rock?
There were many intentions hidden in that subtle question, but what he wanted to hear from Olivia was already decided. It was none other than a definite assurance that the Empire—untouchable by any nation yet seemingly easy to provoke—had no intention of starting a war. Of course, he didn’t really expect to hear such a guarantee. It was only natural. What kind of national leader—especially someone standing at the very peak of that Empire, overlooking the entire continent—would ever give a firm answer on such a matter? Something like that would never happen…
But his thought was cut off.
Not only his, but the thoughts and expectations of everyone were shattered as Olivia gave her answer with stunning clarity and boldness.
“Yes. Peace is more important than anything. So if there are those who threaten the peace of the continent, I will not stand idly by.”
A grave silence immediately fell over the hall. Faces filled with confusion and shock opened their mouths as if to speak, but no one could easily break the silence. And Olivia, with an unwavering tone, hammered it in again.
“We must protect world peace.”
In her past four lives, it had always been the King of Norden who declared war. But since he was already dead in this life, if another continental war were to break out, it would likely be the Crown Prince who declared it. Of course, the actual fighting had always been done by Cryer alone. Although the Kingdom of Norden had allied with other nations instead of the Empire, their efforts were minor in comparison. But before a war starts, things are different.
At dawn—or rather, in the pale light of morning—Olivia had lost her appetite because of Greta’s story. Still, she had finished the bread in her hand thanks to her survival instincts, and then spoke.
“Someone at the national funeral will definitely bring up the conference. They’ll want my confirmation.”
“The peace conference?”
“Yeah. To them, confirmation that the Empire won’t start a war is a pretty big deal—no, a huge deal. And I’ll issue a warning.”
Cryer, brushing crumbs off her lips with practiced ease, asked:
“But whether it’s the Crown Prince or the King, they’re just puppets. What’s the point of warning them?”
With a smile befitting a true imperial princess, Olivia replied:
“I’m not warning the puppets. I’m warning the hyenas who gather around them, hoping to feast on the words of the puppets.”
Right. The war started by the Kingdom of Norden had been aimed squarely at the Empire. Even though the entire continent eventually burned in the flames of war, it all began with a declaration of war against the Empire. Could such a small country like Norden have started such a massive conflict on its own? Of course not. That war had been sparked by an alliance of nations who sided with Norden in hopes of profiting from the Empire’s downfall. So she had to make it clear—a warning they couldn’t misunderstand or forget.
Olivia glanced at the Crown Prince of Norden, who stood at the far end of the hall, the furthest point from her. Then, her cool gaze swept across the entire hall. Her piercingly clear blue eyes made some gulp dryly, while others quickly averted their eyes. And in the silence where even breathing ceased, only Olivia’s voice rang out.
“We’ll be watching. Bolsheik will. To protect the peace.”
As the national funeral proceeded and solemn, majestic music echoed throughout the hall, Isaac was hidden deep in the shadows of the palace, shaking his head with an extremely discontent expression. No matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out how to earn his keep.
“I need to find out what they’re doing with that rock in the palace.”
That one sentence was all the princess had said when she gave him his mission. Isaac, expecting a more natural follow-up, had waited patiently—but Olivia never said another word, forcing him to ask:
“So… a rock?”
“Yes. A rock. Just find out about that for now.”
Thinking back to that moment, Isaac swallowed the words that had reached the tip of his tongue. “For now”? How could this be dismissed as something to look into for now? Sure, he was an Arkendel, specialized in gathering intel and causing confusion—but even he needed something to work with.
Olivia’s order felt like telling someone to make bread from just water and air.
With a deep sigh, Isaac reminded himself that he owed her. She’d given him a place in the Empire. He couldn’t disappoint someone who had taken him in for this exact kind of job.
“She said it was a pretty big rock, and that it had been brought into the palace… which means someone’s moving it.”
Of course, if some mage was using unknown magic to manipulate the stone, then he was screwed. Isaac slumped into the shadows and shook his head.
“What’s with the mage, anyway?”
She’d told him to run without hesitation if anything seemed off. Who sends someone on a recon mission while saying something like that?
Before he heard about the mage, she was talking about “earning your keep.” But despite all that, Isaac had assumed Olivia was a benevolent royal trying to give him a chance to redeem himself and survive on his own.
“Even if I go through every page of the Arkendel training I inherited, there’s nothing about collecting intel from this kind of nothing.”
Muttering this complaint toward Olivia—who of course couldn’t hear it—Isaac got to his feet. Sitting around wouldn’t change anything. After all, the only reason he hadn’t ended up boiled alive like a failed hunting dog back home was because he’d acted to survive.
So Isaac wandered the much looser royal palace of Norden—as if it were his own backyard. Eventually, he slumped under a large tree.
“This is hopeless. Wandering around like this is totally pointless…”
He was mid-mutter when he vanished from sight.
“Ow, my back. Why are they making me work even on the day of the national funeral? It’s killing me, seriously.”
Soon after, men carrying large stones appeared at the spot with heavy footsteps. As they grumbled, Isaac, now hidden in the tree above, watched them closely.
“They’re paying us well enough. So stop whining and move. Standing around won’t make the stone lighter. And…”
One of the laborers lowered his voice mid-sentence, prompting the other to grumble back:
“Yeah, yeah, I know. We have to get this done secretly and as fast as possible.”
As the workers resumed after a short break, Isaac melted into their shadows. A secret operation to move a giant rock within the palace? With confidentiality involved?
Even if he heard this while standing on his head, it would still reek of suspicion.
Jackpot.
Calling it a coincidence felt like insulting all the running around he’d done, but there really wasn’t a better word for it. Watching the neatly cut stone sway right in front of him, Isaac grinned, his fox-like eyes curving.
Looked like he was finally going to earn his keep.
“I wish you a safe return.”
Olivia offered a formal bow to the Crown Prince of Norden and then boarded her carriage. Leaving immediately after the funeral was considered highly rude, so she was the only one heading out. Still, no one criticized her. The fact that the imperial princess had arrived just a day before and offered personal condolences was already an extraordinary gesture.
Inside the rapidly moving carriage, Olivia rubbed her throbbing temple with a sigh.
“I just hope Isaac comes back with something.”
When she decided to go to Norden herself, it felt like walking into a tiger’s den to catch a tiger. She couldn’t exactly dig through the palace, but she’d hoped to gain some information by confronting the Crown Prince.
But…
“Staying out of that lunatic’s sight is the top priority.”
The mage who had “cleansed” the other mage had now deemed her an irritant. She had to avoid his notice at all costs.
That didn’t mean she’d grovel in fear, but still—fearing a madman and acting to survive were two separate things.
Closing her eyes, Olivia whispered almost like a prayer.
“Cryer said the altar was mentioned. If I can confirm that, maybe I can predict Greta’s next move… So I’ll trust you, ancestors. The descendants of Rianaph Arkendel.”
The road back to the Empire felt much easier and faster than the road to Norden. But then again, returning home always felt quicker than setting off.
“I greet Your Majesty.”
Right after returning from Norden, Olivia visited the Emperor and gave her brief, unproductive report. Then she returned to her office.
“Ugh… uuuugh…”
She flopped onto the soft couch with a moan. Just one day in that tiger’s den, and she was completely exhausted. But no wonder—she’d spent several days on high alert, like a finely honed needle.
Her head now overloaded, Olivia massaged her temple, which throbbed more and more painfully by the second. Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore and forced herself up.
She’d learned one thing from her four past lives:
“Moving hurts less.”
Lying limp in pain only made it worse. She’d realized in one of her past lives that it was much better to just walk around and breathe fresh air than to stew in her thoughts.
“Shall we go out together, Crai… ah.”
She frowned, looking at the empty chair where he always sat. Her head now throbbed like it was being stabbed with a knife.
He had said he’d bury himself in books tonight, investigating Bolsheik even further.
“Maybe I should join that research.”
Olivia glanced toward where Cryer was probably flipping through books by now. Then she inhaled deeply.
“Guess I’ll get some fresh air.”
Wandering alone down the corridor, she suddenly stopped. Walking around alone this late at night was bound to lead to trouble. Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head and quickly decided to solve the problem another way.
After living four lives, she knew the imperial palace better than her own palm. She easily found the room where the servants’ clothes were kept.
“Just borrowing this.”
Picking up a random servant’s uniform, she pinned her hair tightly and tucked it under a cap to hide every strand. Even with the disguise, anyone who saw her hair color in the imperial palace would recognize her immediately.
Then she paused.
“Huh? The ribbon color’s a bit different…”
