#85. A Boring Position
“Hoo…”
Bonita let out a short sigh and set down the mirror she had been holding.
She had spent several days weighing whether or not to report her meeting with the princess to Greta. Now that she had reached a decision, there was no reason to clutch the mirror any longer.
Of course, she had no intention of leaving the princess alone based on mere speculation.
The princess knew about the Ancient God, yet she had never made a firm vow to follow him. She was not subservient to him like a devoted servant.
And considering she was of Bolsheike blood, there were plenty of reasons to remain cautious.
If Bonita wanted to investigate the princess further, she would first need permission from the Ancient God’s servant.
Bonita picked the mirror back up.
It would surely be far more efficient to relay the message through Greta than to do it herself.
Soon, a flash of crimson hair appeared through the mirror.
“What is it?”
“To investigate the princess’s movements, we need her permission.”
“The princess?”
As soon as the word “princess” left her lips, Greta’s eyes glinted, and blue veins began to show on her forehead.
Bonita calmly spoke a lie in response.
“There’s a vacancy in the princess’s palace. We’re selecting a servant to fill it, but nowhere in the palace escapes her watchful eyes.”
It was a plausible excuse, and Greta’s glare softened slightly.
Yet the word “princess” seemed to irritate her, and she answered in a cold tone.
“If it’s about that woman, I don’t care. To burn and purify the continent, the empire is the biggest obstacle. Since he said he’d handle it personally…”
Cryer had never said such a thing.
‘So that means he will continue to stay in the empire?’
‘Yes.’
‘Will he teach why he is doing so?’
‘No.’
After all, he had never explained to Greta why he remained in the empire.
Yet Greta, just as she had from the first time she met him until now, believed her own thoughts as absolute truth. Her words carried conviction.
Naturally, Bonita had no reason to doubt Greta’s claim.
“I understand… so he intends to stay in the empire.”
Yet when Bonita pictured the moment the princess and the Ancient God’s servant were together, a trace of doubt colored her voice.
‘There’s no going back to before the meeting. If I don’t take the princess’s hand, I’ll lose my way.’
Could one call the eyes of the Ancient God’s servant, who claimed he could not leave the princess, mere acting, smoke, or lies?
The next moment, Greta called her sharply, like a tearing sound.
“Bonita!”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Bonita met Greta’s piercing gaze, her expression unchanged, and continued to speak her lie.
“I acted rashly. I tried to return him to the Norden Kingdom. I failed to grasp the depth of his intentions.”
Greta let out a short, derisive snort at the flowing falsehood.
“A pointless act.”
“Yes. It was pointless.”
Greta, her eyes still glinting, watched Bonita admit her “mistake,” then withdrew her gaze.
Surely, she hadn’t expected Bonita to lie to her.
And if Bonita were to lie, it would hide her own fault, not reveal it.
“From now on, do not make any judgments on your own.”
“Yes.”
After Bonita’s short reply, Greta covered the mirror with her palm and added,
“Reflect carefully on the consequences of your judgments.”
With those words, the mirror returned to its ordinary state, but Bonita did not move.
Her face remained impassive, yet her eyes burned with a deep, crimson intensity, as if ready to explode.
She could not have misunderstood Greta’s last words: judgment. And consequences.
The day she buried her dead child without even opening her eyes, Bonita had cursed her choices and could not forgive herself.
And this world that had taken her child.
-
Thunk, drip.
Blood seeped from her nails into her palms, falling to the floor as she gripped the mirror too tightly. Yet Bonita only stared at the past with those haunted eyes.
“…Master. Marquis.”
The voice of an unwelcome, vulgar woman finally pulled Bonita back to reality.
After briefly surveying the woman rolling her eyes in front of her, she cleared the mirror away and spoke.
“What about the man?”
It was an unexpected, ambush-like question. Yet, like someone who had survived long in back alleys, Bonita calmly delivered a falsehood.
“He’s been dealt with. He vanished without a trace.”
Though not by her own hand, he had indeed disappeared without leaving a trace, and in effect, the matter had been handled.
It was a lie, but also the truth, and Bonita felt no discomfort. In this way, Sugar’s older brother vanished beyond everyone’s perception.
“I see. Bring the candidate for the princess’s palace two days from now.”
“Yes. Actually, there is something I need to report regarding that.”
“What is it?”
Thus, Greta and Bonita, and the woman to Bonita, layered lie upon lie, constructing their massive plan atop a foundation of falsehoods.
‘We’ve decided to go to the Taren household. I need to repay the family’s debts. And this diary—I think I can uncover something more. The words my parents and I exchanged as a child are like a code, and it seems hidden in this diary.’
After leaving those words, Sugar had departed the princess’s palace, and some time passed.
For some, it was just another ordinary afternoon.
For others, something entirely different was unfolding.
“Is this regarding the escort?”
“Yes. The diplomatic representative from Norden has changed. It’s nothing special, just an escort duty, so pay closer attention.”
“Yes. I’ll do my best.”
If a foreign representative stationed in the empire suffered even a minor injury, it was not just a matter of national embarrassment, but the empire’s prestige was at stake.
Though rare in the Imperial Palace, a foreign dignitary could still be harmed intentionally.
Thus, the knights assigned to these foreign dignitaries were ostensibly ‘escorts,’ but in reality, more like ‘watchers.’
Kaslan, well aware of this fact as the Third Knight Commander, understood the gravity of the instructions, as did the Third Knight Order.
Once the briefing ended, Kaslan left the commander’s office and was soon surrounded by his fellow knights.
“They said the commander called for you?”
“Yeah. What is it? Did you secretly do another good deed somewhere again?”
“This guy… talented and kind? Unforgivable!”
“Exactly! His promotion to vice-commander is inevitable. Step on him before we lose the chance!”
Amid jokes and mock threats, Kaslan smiled good-naturedly, deflecting both words and playful punches.
“It’s just luck,” he said.
“If that’s luck, then how terrible is my luck?”
“This guy is humbly boastful in the strangest way.”
His companions patted him on the shoulder, treating his words as mere humility, and Kaslan said no more.
“Anyway, what’s really going on?”
“I’ll be away for a while.”
“What? Where to?”
There was no reason to hide it, so Kaslan answered honestly.
“To escort Norden’s new diplomat.”
“Ah… a boring position.”
“Yeah, must be dull.”
After exchanging their observations, the knights returned to their tasks. Kaslan packed lightly and headed to the palace where the foreign diplomats stayed.
-
Knock, knock.
Guided by the palace servants, he knocked on the door and was promptly granted permission to enter.
“Come in.”
Stepping in with proper decorum, Kaslan paused briefly.
The stagnant, humid air brushed against his cheek, giving him an uneasy sense… something was off.
“Are you the escort sent by the Imperial Court?”
But the chilling sensation he felt disappeared as soon as the voice from inside spoke.
Kaslan responded with the courtesy due a knight.
“My greetings…”
Unlike when he relaxed with his comrades, he now approached Norden’s new diplomat with the demeanor and expression befitting an Imperial Knight.
“…I will be your escort while you remain in the empire. Please call me Kaslan.”
Once he finished speaking, the diplomat, a woman with striking crimson hair, nodded lightly.
“Very well, Sir Kaslan.”
Unlike typical subservience toward Imperial Knights, she answered plainly, then waved her hand.
“Sorry, I’m a bit tired. I’d like some time alone. Could you leave the room?”
“I’ll stay right outside.”
Kaslan, disciplined and pragmatic, did not protest or argue; he left the room without unnecessary words.
The new diplomat from Norden, Greta, immediately understood his confidence: even if something happened outside the room, he could respond effectively, and nothing untoward would befall a foreign dignitary in the Imperial Palace.
Her lips twisted into a peculiar smile.
Bolsheike Empire. There wasn’t a single thing here that didn’t irritate her.
Well, if the princess at the top of the empire annoyed her so much, the rest was hardly worth mentioning.
From her blurred focus, crimson flames began to rise.
In her eyes, seeing not the present but the longed-for future, the empire burned as the Ancient God wished—and as she wished.
The empire would serve as the largest sacrifice and prey in the purification of the continent.
Greta imagined the empire burning, moaning, and ultimately screaming its last agonizing cries. A bitter smile appeared on her lips, then quickly faded.
With a long exhale, she brushed her hair back and gazed at the empty space where the disciplined knight had vanished.
Although called an escort, Bonita had said he was essentially an Imperial watcher.
“Hmph.”
Greta snorted, her eyes glinting.
She had much to accomplish in the empire—there was no time to drag along such a nuisance.
Perhaps it was time to make that knight her puppet.
