* * *
The blunt, socially inept speech of someone who had spent their life buried in research shocked the royal attendants standing behind Hesia far more than the words themselves.
They cast uneasy glances, bracing for the possibility that Hesia might suddenly lash out and kill the expert.
But contrary to expectations, Hesia was simply staring down at Vivisian with a composed expression.
“Do you think… it hurt a lot?”
He asked it like a whisper to himself.
The expert blinked behind her glasses, then nodded slowly.
“It probably did.”
“Then why didn’t he say anything? Did he not trust me?”
“Mm… I don’t think it’s that. Maybe he just got used to it. You said the seal was carved a long time ago, right? Getting used to pain isn’t healthy, but if it lasts for decades… you do grow numb.”
He didn’t even know he was still hurting.
Her tone light and distinct, she gently straightened the edge of Vivisian’s slightly rumpled robe.
“I don’t think it was because he didn’t trust Your Grace.”
Her soft, soothing words made Hesia chuckle faintly.
He reached out and brushed Vivisian’s cheek with his hand.
“I know. I was just whining.”
“Got it! But… who could’ve done something like this? It doesn’t seem like someone who knew he was, um… your consort…”
She trailed off, awkwardly mumbling, but Hesia just shrugged.
“I think I know who. No need to dig deeper.”
“Huh? Ah, I see… that’s a relief. Then, is there anything else I can help with?”
“No.”
“Understood! If you ever need anything again, please don’t hesitate to call on me. Thank you for your commission. I truly hope you get what you’re looking for.”
Her tone suggested she knew this wasn’t simply about solving a mystery—but something much deeper.
Hesia gave a faint smile and perched lightly on the edge of Vivisian’s bed.
“That’s the kindest thing I’ve heard all year.”
The sweet tone of his voice gave her chills for some reason.
Rubbing her arms instinctively, the expert bowed deeply, then hurriedly left the room.
Once she was gone, only a few attendants remained—along with Hesia and Vivisian.
Hesia watched the body in silence for a while, then spoke softly to the attendants who had stood at a distance.
“I should pay a visit to Grandmother. Tell the Head of the Ducal Household I’d like an audience today.”
At that, one of the attendants bowed and quietly slipped out of the room.
The rest, as they had since Vivisian’s death, stood in silence.
The days when this palace overflowed with laughter, lighthearted stories, and little joys seemed like a distant dream.
The young heir who had never known how to smile had once smiled every day—for just one person.
And the only one he ever smiled for was someone who knew how to treasure the smiles of others.
“I know Hesia loves me. Whatever the emotion is, the one who gives more always hurts more. But please don’t worry. I’d never hurt the one you all serve.”
He was someone who, only upon coming of age, began his first awkward and youthful love.
No one had expected that the subject of such a person’s first love would be someone whose name, age—everything—remained hidden.
When one of the palace attendants, who had served Hesia for many years, became restless and voiced a concern beyond their place, this was the response they received.
It wasn’t said with anger, as if asking why they would worry.
Nor was it said with a flinch, like a guilty thief caught unaware.
He simply closed the book he had been reading, met their eyes beyond the veil, and replied to a mere servant’s worry with a gentle calmness…
Everyone within that space reminisced about the day—now forever unreachable.
The always-open windows and the scent of flowers that would drift in.
The man who would either sit quietly in a corner of the terrace to eat or read, or else stand silently among the flowerbeds.
When you called, “Ian,” he would quietly turn and meet your gaze.
That man died overnight.
It was as if he took all the warmth, laughter, and love from the palace with him on his journey to the afterlife.
Left with nothing but desolation, everyone fell silent.
This proved that everything here had existed solely for one person.
Now that warmth, laughter, and love were no longer needed, Hesia merely caressed the memory of his old love with a serene expression in the middle of the room.
Some time later, a courtier who had gone to the main palace returned with the head chamberlain.
“His Majesty wishes to see you now. I believe you may go as you are. Is there anything you’d like to prepare?”
“No. I’ll go right away.”
Hesia calmly answered as he pulled his hand away from Vivisian—whom he had been endlessly caressing—and rose from the bed.
It was a well-known tale by now, that he had been holding onto the corpse of his dead lover.
The chamberlain, having seen it, remained composed.
“Then please follow me. Will there be a lot to discuss? If so, I’ll postpone His Grace’s lunch appointment.”
“What time is it now?”
“A little before 11.”
“Oh, then it should be fine. It won’t take long, so there’s no need to reschedule lunch.”
Ever since the death of his lover—Ian—the young heir, now suddenly an adult, responded with a calm yet strangely sorrowful face.
The chamberlain, noticing something unfamiliar about his expression, gave a small nod and walked ahead.
Whatever they were about to discuss, it wasn’t going to be anything ordinary.
Anyone who had seen Hesia’s face just now would know.
The palace where Hesia stayed wasn’t far from the main palace, so it didn’t take long to arrive.
Along the way, he passed nobles who greeted him, but Hesia was too distracted to respond properly and headed straight to the Duke.
The Duke, who had been reviewing documents while waiting, looked up when the doors opened.
“You’re quick. So, what is it you need to say?”
“…Would you mind dismissing everyone for a moment?”
“Hm. Very well. Everyone, leave us. And Chamberlain, until I say otherwise, no one is to enter the study.”
With just a word from the Duke, everyone in the study bowed and quietly exited.
Now alone in the quiet room, Hesia took a slow step forward.
walking past the Duke who remained seated at her desk, he moved toward the window and drew back the curtain.
Sunlight instantly flooded the study.
Realizing that the blue flower field couldn’t be seen from here, Hesia let the curtain fall and finally spoke.
“Ian—Vivisian—was killed by his own brother. That’s why the gods won’t let his body be buried or burned.”
“I already knew he was murdered. When the dead cannot be laid to rest, there’s usually only one reason. But how are you so sure it was his brother?”
“Vivi died because of a curse. He once told me that the tattoo—the medium of the curse—was carved into him by a ‘family member.’”
“By a family member, huh… Blood runs thicker than water, but I suppose power runs thicker than blood.”
The Duke muttered bitterly, letting out a humorless chuckle, and reached for a cigarette from the desk.
Lighting it with practiced ease, she took a drag and stood from her chair.
“Judging by what you’re saying, I suppose the current Duke Teian was the one who did it. And you… you want revenge on him, don’t you?”
‘Am I right?’
When the Duke asked through a cloud of smoke, Hesia nodded.
It was such a clear affirmation that it left no room for doubt.
The Duke frowned.
A Duke whose reign had been prosperous—but who, in parenting, had found only ruin.
From child to grandchild, nothing had gone right.
A Duke whose future biographers would surely write: she had no luck with family.
“You fool. Do you think that child would’ve wanted you to go seeking revenge in his place?”
It was a question so easy that anyone who had even briefly known Vivisian could answer.
Yet Hesia, with an expression purely rational, offered the wrong answer.
“Maybe not. But I’ll do it anyway. There’s no one left to stop me.”
“All the more reason you need to live rightly! Don’t you realize how pathetic it is for the living to be ruled by the dead?”
The Duke’s voice was weary, her expression the most aged it had ever looked.
She ran a wrinkled hand across her face a few times before speaking again, more calmly this time.
“And that child—you said he was your ‘Vivi,’ didn’t you? Then all the more reason not to do this. For his sake, you need to hold yourself together.”
Her voice was as soft as if soothing a child.
But Hesia’s mind remained unchanged.
The stubborn, determined look on his face was the spitting image of what the Duke herself had once worn in her youth.
* * *
