* * *
After about ten minutes of walking, they reached Mujin’s guest room.
At a glance, it was clear the room was well-furnished.
Even after stepping inside, Sia remained standing stiffly in the middle of the room.
Mujin, who had been still in the dimly lit space, finally moved.
Drawing back the curtains and lighting a candle, Mujin turned to face Sia, who was still lingering awkwardly near the door.
The flickering light reflected in Mujin’s deep brown eyes, adding a reddish glow to them.
“…May I ask your mother’s name?”
The question was spoken with great care.
Sia raised an eyebrow at the unexpected inquiry.
Of all things, why ask about his mother?
He couldn’t understand the reasoning, but he also got the sense that Mujin wouldn’t drop the topic just because he didn’t answer.
“…Encia.”
“Encia… Encia… Encia. It seems to match…”
What the hell are they trying to do with my mother’s name?
Watching silently, Sia noticed Mujin give a wry smile.
“It seems… your mother is someone I know.”
Sia’s eyes widened at the completely unexpected statement, his wariness mixing with confusion.
Never in his life had anyone approached him claiming to know his mother.
And of course, that made perfect sense.
Sia’s earliest memories were of traveling from place to place with his parents, never settling down in one location.
A life of constant wandering.
The odds of running into someone familiar with them were practically nonexistent.
Cautiously, Sia studied the person before him.
To be honest, it was hard to believe.
The mother he remembered was nothing like Mujin—who exuded poise and confidence.
His own mother had always been anxious, melancholy, fragile.
The portrait of a woman who seemed almost designed for tragedy. Just thinking of her made his chest tighten with sorrow.
Yet strangely, in the contours of Mujin’s face, he caught glimpses of her.
The smooth, ashen-brown hair, the light striking across their sharp features—there was something oddly familiar about it.
Nostalgic, even.
Unable to hold back the thought, Sia blurted out the question.
“How do you know my mother?”
“We were friends. Very close friends. I thought I’d never see her again.”
Mujin’s eyes shone with an unmistakable longing, an emotion that couldn’t be faked.
But then, as if suddenly remembering that Sia’s parents were gone, Mujin faltered.
“…Ah. I suppose I never will.”
Never again.
For a fleeting moment, Mujin’s deep brown eyes—usually burning with a quiet intensity—dimmed, their glow fading into something forlorn.
The way they gazed into empty space carried such loneliness that even Sia could feel it.
Then, as if shaking off the thoughts, Mujin straightened.
“…Right. This isn’t what I meant to talk about. Hmm… may I ask your name?”
“Sia.”
“Sia. Alright, Sia. I’m not one to beat around the bush. I think some things should be said clearly. So, to get straight to the point… do you know of the Merien Principality?”
“Huh? Yeah.”
He’d heard of it.
A secluded principality far from the Eris Empire.
Even though Sia had traveled almost everywhere with his parents, they had never gone anywhere near the principality.
The only knowledge he had came from books.
As he was recalling what little he knew, Mujin’s calm voice shattered his assumptions.
“Sia, you are the only grandson of His Grace, the ruling Duke of Meriain.”
“…What? What are you saying right now…?”
“If Encia—is truly gone, that would make you the sole heir.”
Sia’s first thought upon hearing those words was simple.
Now? Of all times?
His parents were long dead.
He had spent years struggling alone, growing accustomed to a life where he had no power, no protection.
And now they were telling him this?
He wanted to laugh.
To tell Mujin that this was a terrible joke.
That there was nothing amusing about it. But then, something dawned on him.
If what Mujin was saying was true, then maybe—just maybe—he could uncover the truth behind his parents’ suspicious deaths.
And if that happened… then the only reason he had left for surviving would vanish completely.
That… might not be so bad.
A smirk curled at the corners of Sia’s lips.
It wasn’t the kind of expression a child should wear—it was laced with resignation, too bitter to be anything else.
“So? You’re planning to take me back to the principality?”
“…Yes. Of course. You are an irreplaceable figure, someone worth more than all the gold in the world. And yet, here you are, suffering under the hands of some lowly noble from the Eris Empire. How could I possibly stand by and let that continue?”
There was something personal in Mujin’s voice—more than just duty, there was emotion behind those words.
But Sia didn’t bother pointing it out. Instead, he simply shrugged.
He had once thought about wanting to live happily.
But the kind of happiness he had imagined was not about going from being an enslaved boy who lost his parents to suddenly becoming the sole heir of a grand duchy.
His idea of happiness was something simpler—just living in a quiet place where no one tormented him, chatting idly with Vivi.
And being a smart boy, he could easily predict that the moment he returned to the grand duchy as the Grand Duke’s only heir, he would be caught up in something incredibly complicated.
After all, succession battles were the same everywhere.
There might not be much known about the Grand Duke’s affairs, but that didn’t mean the fight for succession would be any less fierce.
People who were well-fed and well-educated still fell into ruin in such battles.
Given that he had barely reclaimed his rightful place from being a slave, it wasn’t difficult to imagine just how easily he could be knocked down.
How many people out there would either try to manipulate him as they pleased or attempt to get rid of him entirely, just because he was nothing more than an ignorant child?
For that matter, even the Grand Duke himself might not welcome a grandson who had once been a slave.
If the fact that he was the heir became known, he would likely never be able to return here.
He had no way of predicting what would happen in the grand duchy, and the Grand Duke held enough power to dispose of a mere child if he so wished.
‘If I’m lucky, he might not try to kill me just for ‘disgracing the grand duchy.’
Thinking cynically, Sia raised his hand and brushed his dry cheek.
“Even if I really am his only grandson and the rightful heir, the moment people find out I was a slave, no one will accept me.
And even if the Grand Duke does welcome me, he must be quite old by now.
If he passes away before I can properly establish myself as his successor… no one would bother helping me.
They’d probably just think about killing me instead.”
‘I don’t know much, but being the Grand Duke seems like an awfully coveted position.’
It wasn’t a wrong assumption, but the way Sia spoke was ironic—because he himself showed no desire for it at all.
Publicly, rumors said he had abandoned his guaranteed future to wander the world out of a love for freedom.
But in truth, he had been traveling from place to place in search of a friend who had fled from an oppressive mother.
Mujin, who had adored Sia’s mother, Encia, saw glimpses of his cherished friend in the boy standing before him.
“I hate my mother now. Even though she knows power brings misery, she still tried to sacrifice her own daughter for it. She was the one who killed my brother. And yet, she kept comparing me to him, saying he should have lived instead… I’m sick of it.”
“Sia….”
“So, Jin. I’m leaving. I’m sure my mother would prefer having a more ‘suitable’ heir over having a child like me. She always cared more about the people than her own family. She won’t miss me.”
Despite viewing the Grand Duke as utterly despicable, the girl had still loved her mother deeply.
And with those final words, she had vanished without a trace—taking only her lover, a knight who had served as her bodyguard.
The girl who had once turned the palace upside down in daily clashes with the Grand Duke had caused an even greater uproar in her final act.
Born with a rebellious spirit, she was bound to collide with others, but Mujin had believed she would find her place somewhere in the world.
But in the end, her fate had been nothing but tragically hollow.
She left behind only a single child who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Grand Duke she had so despised.
“…Come with me. Anywhere would be better than staying here. I’ll help you find your footing… Let’s go together.”
Sia remained silent, simply staring at Mujin, who was clearly seeing someone else in him.
Then, he smiled. It was a mature smile, one that seemed too knowing for a boy his age.
Dropping that expression, he turned his weary gaze to the wall. Mujin’s voluminous dress cast a deep shadow, covering an entire section of the room.
As he watched the hem of her gown tremble slightly with each breath she took, Sia murmured absentmindedly.
“Mujin. It’s alright if I call you that, right?”
“Of course. You can even speak casually to me… Do you feel like coming with me?”
At Mujin’s careful question, Sia shook his head with a lighthearted expression.
“No. There’s something strange about my parents’ deaths. They suddenly passed away right after a certain guest came and left. And the moment they died, as if someone had been waiting for it, I was immediately sold to a slave trader. Look into what happened. That much, you can do, can’t you?”
“Of course. That’s the least I can do. And I can do much more than that. Should I make sure you get everything you want? Or… since you’ll need a family, I could speak to the Grand Duke on your behalf—”
“You really think I need something like that?”
The boy, who had remained composed the entire time, showed no hesitation.
Only unwavering determination.
“Mujin, I know you really loved my mother. But I’m not her. She may have given birth to me, but if you’re only being kind to me because you see her in me… you’ll be disappointed. Because I’m not her.”
Mujin couldn’t say a word.
She knew—had it not been for Encia’s resemblance, she wouldn’t have given Sia a second glance.
His pretty face might have let him linger in her mind for a while, but ultimately, he would have been just another fleeting servant.
She couldn’t promise he would be happy in the grand duchy.
But at the very least, Mujin was certain that he would eat better, laugh more, and sleep more peacefully than he did here as a slave.
And so, even as she understood why Sia didn’t trust her enough to follow her, she still couldn’t bring herself to give up on taking him away.
* * *
