Chapter 187

A small room in the royal villa where Gale was receiving treatment. Faint, warm light seeped continuously through the crack in the door. Clothes and towels soaked with blood were scattered haphazardly across the floor, and three mages stood at the center, with attendants fetching warm water.

“Clean this area more thoroughly.”

“Yes, Mage.”

“There’s no sign the bleeding is stopping. Increase the magic at the pressure points—just a little more, a little more.”

“If we push any harder here, it could affect his breathing.”

“Of all places, he cut his neck…”

“Good, good. That’s enough.”

Sweat trickled down the mages’ noses. Usually, self-harm meant slashing wrists, but Gale had stabbed the spot where his nape met his collarbone.

“Generate more blood. More, more.”

“Go fetch the blood tonic from Captain Akorella. Don’t worry about the type—just bring everything they have.”

“Yes, understood.”

While the three mages focused on stemming the bleeding and regenerating flesh from within, the doctor meticulously stitched the torn skin and administered sedatives.

A low buzzing filled the room—whether from the heat of magic or the medical staff’s exertion, it was hard to tell. Once Gale’s condition stabilized, the mages wiped their sweat with bloodied towels and let out a collective sigh. They had done their part by keeping him alive.

“That should do it.”

“If His Highness regains consciousness or shows any abnormal behavior, inform us immediately. We’ll be resting in the next room. Doctor, you should stop as well.”

The attendants bowed deeply in response to the mages’ orders. They had heard of the wonders of magic before, but this level of skill was beyond their expectations—saving someone with a slit neck and stabilizing him afterward. The pinnacle of magic truly seemed to be healing magic, and it was no exaggeration.

Creak.

“Good work, everyone.”

“Ian.”

At that moment, Ian entered the room. The stench of blood and disinfectant was overwhelming. Gale was bandaged not only around his neck but also his waist, arms, and shins.

“He’s still unconscious.”

“Yes, but his constitution is strong, so there’s no problem absorbing the magic. I expect a swift recovery.”

“I heard he was talking in his sleep.”

“Ah, yes.”

The mages exchanged awkward smiles and glanced at Gale. Though he was a prisoner, he was still a prince. Speaking in hushed tones as if aware of the delicacy, they reported:

“He was calling out Lady Melania’s name, saying something. Because of the neck injury, it was hard to understand clearly, but it seemed to be accusations of betrayal. He mentioned curses and such.”

Ian pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down, checking his watch as he gave instructions to the mages.

“Let him rest. I’ll leave here in a couple of hours.”

It had already been three hours since Duke Haiman was brought into the palace and placed under a sort of house arrest. Ian wanted to catch the moment before the duke’s patience ran out and he gave up hope.

If Gale regained consciousness in the next few hours and spilled information about Lady Melania, that would be ideal.

“Hah.”

“Romandro, report.”

Romandro, his eyes swollen from lack of sleep, handed over the reports he had been working on. The scratching of pen tips echoed quietly in the room.

Scratch!

“…”

“Ha, ha. Don’t mind me.”

Romandro occasionally slapped his own cheek to stay awake, but otherwise, the room was peaceful and silent.

How much time had passed?

Ian noticed Gale’s fingertips twitch.

“Prince Gale.”

“…Ah.”

Gale grimaced, making an unfamiliar metallic sound. He tried to scratch at his neck, but only disturbed the stitches. Ian gently stopped him with a pen and spoke.

“Good to see you awake on time. There’s much to discuss, but considering our circumstances, let’s keep it brief. First, your final moments will not be on a bed, but in the courtroom.”

In other words, forget about an honorable death by suicide. Gale frowned and looked up at him with faded blue eyes.

“Duke Haiman and Lady Melania have entered the palace and are waiting. If you have anything to say, I will convey it for you.”

Gale let out a bitter chuckle. The missing magical armor that Haiman’s house had promised to provide had decisively swung the outcome. That was why he was lying here now.

“…You hope I have something to say.”

His voice was slow and strained, fragile. Ian simply nodded without much reaction.

“Of course. If you have nothing to say, I will speak on your behalf.”

With the third faction now controlling the palace, everyone assumed Haiman’s house would deny any connection to the two princes, especially Gale. Ian had no choice but to use Gale’s testimony as a weapon.

“If you hand over evidence of Haiman’s collusion, I promise you a more honorable death than Prince Marib.”

Ian’s offer drew a low laugh from Gale. The best he could hope for now was such a death.

“One more thing.”

“…What is it?”

“I will protect the tree in His Majesty the Emperor’s chambers.”

The peach tree the emperor had stared at blankly after dreaming of Gale’s birth mother. The peach tree his mother had cherished so dearly, where her remains were buried. Gale covered his eyes with his arm and sighed.

“You can find the collusion evidence if you want.”

“Thanks to someone, I have a lot to handle.”

“…Were your eyes always like that?”

Gale suddenly looked at Ian’s gaze with curiosity. Ian had always seemed unusual, but now… somehow, he seemed more like…

“You seem like the true master of the palace.”

“Enough with the commentary. The prince’s neck isn’t in good shape.”

Ian’s sharp retort told Gale to keep quiet and answer only when asked. Gale chuckled and let it all go.

“I never exchanged letters directly with Haiman’s house. We both know the people involved. They promised to help stop Marib with magical stone armor and to support Melania’s rise as empress. Not only that, but tax benefits for Haiman’s house, key positions for their relatives, and trade privileges for kingdoms with blood ties.”

“You planned to divide everything very thoroughly.”

Ian paused to organize his thoughts. Beyond Melania’s empress title, many other promises had been made to Haiman. So why didn’t they help Gale in the end?

“It seems Haiman’s support was lacking.”

“Didn’t you close the city gates?”

“Entering the palace beforehand to prepare is basic protocol. According to survivors’ testimonies, you only received about half of what was expected.”

Gale avoided Ian’s gaze, as if he knew the reason but couldn’t say it.

“Besides, Lady Melania seemed to adore you.”

“Adore? Me? Have you ever met a woman?”

“…”

Ian frowned, unable to argue. But if she wasn’t a lover, then what was that? She seemed utterly infatuated.

“Melania does not adore me.”

Gale muttered with certainty.

“Wesley made her that way.”

“How does Wesley’s name come up here?”

“You were curious about her curse, weren’t you?”

He rummaged through the table as if searching for a cigarette, seemingly unaware of his neck wound. Ian handed him a cigarette and Romandro took away the lighter.

“Didn’t I tell you? It’s a personal curse.”

“That’s right. You proved it with the antidote potion.”

“I will never be loved by anyone.”

‘You were arrogant and trampled on me, Gale. You will never be loved like I was.’

“So I knew from the start. What Melania wanted wasn’t me, but the prince’s position. That’s why I prepared. And now, here we are.”

Gale crushed the cigarette between his teeth. Even the author couldn’t clearly define Haiman’s change of heart. Ian stood up, brushing off his clothes, and took the cigarette away.

“Take good care of his treatment. Honestly, the fact that he woke up is good news for me.”

Now they had a way to suppress and pressure Haiman directly. Gale’s testimony was the most solid evidence they had.

“What about Marib?”

“You’ll meet him soon.”

In the courtroom.

Without hesitation, Ian turned and left. Gale sighed and closed his eyes. Now that he was awake, they would keep him under constant watch for 24 hours. Even if he wanted to end it, he couldn’t.

Click.

As soon as Ian stepped into the corridor, he gave strict orders to the guards.

“Reinforce the personnel and keep him under constant watch. If possible, contact the palace guard as well.”

“The palace guard?”

The guards asked in confusion. They only needed to prevent Gale’s self-harm—why call in the palace guard? They were already short-staffed rebuilding the palace.

“Do you need a reason for an order?”

“Ah, my apologies. I will correct it.”

Ian silenced further questions with a sharp rebuke. Romandro followed behind him and, once in the carriage, asked again.

“It’s because of Haiman’s house, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Now that the prince is awake, there’s a chance Haiman will make a move.”

At this point, the prince was doomed anyway. Killing him before the trial would sever any apparent ties with Haiman’s house.

And above all, if the princes were to die from an external attack here, the barely settled chaos could flare up all over again.

“Let’s go to where Duke Haiman is waiting.”

“Yes, understood.”

Whirrr!

Ian checked his watch as he announced their destination.

Seven hours and forty minutes.

That was how long the duke had been waiting inside the palace to meet someone. It must have been quite a long wait for the duke, the so-called core of Bariel.

“Have you ever met Duke Haiman, Romandro?”

“I think I saw him once at the New Year’s gathering. Or did I?”

“I believe I saw him briefly then.”

But Duke Haiman didn’t leave much of an impression. Ian recalled that when he was emperor, the eleventh Duke Haiman was the one he knew. Now, he was curious about the current head of the family.

“Blood doesn’t lie. They’re probably similar, more or less.”

With that thought, Ian hurried toward the building where the duke was being held. In the distance, he spotted soldiers guarding the castle gate.

“How’s the atmosphere outside the palace?”

“There are some vague rumors spreading bit by bit. No one who enters the palace comes out—this is the first time something like this has happened. We’ll have to make an official statement soon.”

This couldn’t drag on for long. Ian vowed to wrap things up within three days, no more. He gazed out the window as the Haiman family’s carriage waited nearby.

Creak.

“Is Duke Haiman inside?”

“Yes, Lord Ian. He’s been waiting.”

“Send my message.”

Guided by a soldier, Ian stepped inside the building.

The doors to the reception room opened on either side.

Ian faced Duke Haiman, sitting upright with a rigid posture.