Chapter 248

Melania’s eyes narrowed slightly, a faint frown crossing her face. What was this doubt she harbored? To speak of oneself as if from a third person’s perspective—it was baffling.

But Ian paid no mind. He kept examining the amber-hued gemstone. It bore a striking resemblance to the one Marib used during the rebellion, and the one found beneath the Silask flowerpot.

‘On the surface, it does seem to be Idgal. I’ll need to investigate more thoroughly.’

Acorella had said that artificial gemstones, when cut in half, reveal geometric patterns—signatures of an alchemist’s craft, unique markings.

If this truly was made by Ian, the illegitimate son, then its nature would differ entirely from Idgal’s.

“Ian.”

At Melania’s call, Ian turned his head. Her eyes were filled with deep suspicion, her gaze persistent and steadily closing the distance between them. She asked cautiously, her tone now formal, as if restraining her emotions.

“Sir Ian, do you have no memory at all?”

Though phrased as a question, it was more of a test. This was a crucial variable for Melania.

If Ian had lost his memory, the imbalance of information from the past would shift. That would be a tremendous opportunity for Melania, who held the knowledge.

“You smiled. You were so happy your face flushed with joy. So…”

Melania hesitated mid-sentence. If Ian truly couldn’t remember, it would be better to offer something abstract rather than concrete clues.

Ian caught her intent and responded with silence. Claiming to remember was too risky; admitting he didn’t was no better. Evading the question ambiguously was, in a way, an admission.

Regarding the past, Ian was at a disadvantage. But within the palace’s inner workings, Melania was the one who had more to lose. The longer he remained silent, the more likely she would speak first.

With a soft sound, Ian produced a pressed flower. The Silask, glowing faintly red under the lamp’s light. It was rare to find even a trace of it in the capital, yet here it was again, alongside the amber gemstone. Just like in the desert.

It was clear the Rutherford Syndicate was connected to the flower, lending some credibility to Melania’s claims.

Though Marib had also used Idgal, only Ian among those they’d met so far had any link to this flower.

“Say something. Please. If you don’t, it’s as if…”

Melania swallowed hard, struggling to voice the impossible. “It’s as if you’re a stranger. Not just forgetting, but treating it like someone else’s matter.”

“Like I’m the one lying. When the evidence proving that day is so clear.”

“Hmm.”

Ian flicked the amber gemstone lightly, acknowledging her words. He had a good lead.

Idgal was as potent as a magical sealing stone, making it a serious threat to mages. The Ministry of Magic’s long-term goal was to track down the Rutherford Syndicate, confiscate such items, and destroy them.

Yet, the illegitimate Ian—who held the position of Minister of Magic—was somehow connected to Idgal’s creation? Even sworn to Rutherford?

“What about this note? Don’t you recognize it?”

Melania pressed, unfolding a worn piece of paper. Just as Ian was about to claim ignorance, a flicker of recognition crossed his mind.

The strange script he’d seen when he first woke in Count Bratz’s manor, entering the illegitimate son’s room. Still indecipherable.

‘A secret released to save the Haiman family. It must have seemed threatening enough to me to be worth exchanging for salvation. Though I don’t know what it is, I must be cautious—’

The idea that the Minister of Magic created Idgal was almost contradictory. It had no effect on non-mages, and it was essentially a tool to tighten the noose on their own kind. There would be fierce opposition within the department.

‘But for now, it’s acceptable.’

If used well, it wasn’t a bad thing.

The heir apparent, Jin, trusted Ian. From the royal perspective, Ian was the right person to balance power within the Ministry of Magic, which would bring stability to Jin.

Stability meant solid unity. The Ministry would gain more trust within the empire. In short, though there might be turbulence, it could lead to a virtuous cycle.

“Melania, I’ve told you before—we have no connection. You call these ‘evidence,’ but aren’t they all subjective claims? What kind of relationship did we have? For two people who supposedly had none, it seems we were too sincere in drawing swords at each other.”

If Arsen wasn’t a monster, then Jin and Ian’s positions would have been on the brink of collapse.

If this truly threatened Ian, Melania would have played this card long ago. Especially when the connection between Marib and Rutherford was brought up in court, there would have been chances to implicate Ian.

“Even if we had some connection, don’t force me to treat memories I alone hold as shared recollections. I will confiscate these. This cannot be overlooked. Await your punishment.”

Click. Ian placed the items into the jewelry box and locked it.

As if expecting this, Melania stared at him steadily. Even after seeing the note, her expression didn’t change—proof she truly had lost her memory. Otherwise…

“Before autumn, Rutherford will enter Bariel. When you meet him, Ian, you cannot escape your fate.”

As far as Melania knew, the oath was eternal and binding. Even if the subject forgot, it would not disappear.

“Melania, for Bariel’s dignity, I wish to treat you more humanely.”

A warning not to provoke her in vain. Torture could force her to speak, but this was the last courtesy to honor Haiman’s achievements. Thanks to them, Bariel’s currency circulation had been smooth.

But Melania did not back down.

“Cut off my hands and feet if you must. But my tongue, I will cut myself.”

No matter what was done, she would not speak easily. Changing her expression, she stepped closer to Ian, pleading pitifully.

“I will hand over Haiman’s bank shares. I will bear all taxes within my means. I will humbly accept a demotion. I want nothing else. Only survival. Please, I beg you. If you do, I will awaken all the memories of that day you cannot recall. The destruction of Haiman may mean something to the royal family, but it’s no good for you, Sir Ian.”

Ian looked at her, then shifted his gaze toward his ear. Outside the window, branches swayed in the cool breeze.

Arsen had said something similar before dying. Meaningless words forcing a choice between Bariel and himself. Then and now, Ian’s answer was always the same, without hesitation.

“Melania, what matters to Bariel matters to me. Wait quietly. Otherwise, your family’s path will diverge from yours.”

“Sir Ian!”

If she wanted to see her family, she had to stay silent. Ian left those words behind and exited the parlor.

The servants waiting outside glanced at the jewelry box in Ian’s hand. He handed over the amber gemstone with instructions.

“…Send this to Captain Acorella. Have her verify if it’s the same as Idgal.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And—”

Ian paused, tapping the window frame thoughtfully. The sudden flood of information left him with much to process.

First, he needed to find out what oath was bound to his illegitimate self’s body.

‘We cannot let those who incited rebellion go unpunished. If a precedent is set, it will harm future generations. Even palace discipline will weaken.’

“Keep a close watch on Melania. In the evening, I want to see Mother and Nersarn.”

“Yes, sir. Shall I escort you to the Ministry of Magic?”

“Where is His Highness Jin? Is he at the Ministry?”

“No. He’s at Lady Dilaina’s residence.”

Ian checked his pocket watch as he moved outside. Quite some time had passed since they parted. Jin had probably gone straight to his mother, yet he was still there. No messages from Xiaoshi suggested no problems, but it was curious.

“Let’s go there. I’ll bring His Highness Jin back to the Ministry.”

With Ian’s orders, the servants parted and hurried ahead to prepare the carriage.

Ian glanced once more at the firmly closed parlor door, then turned away without hesitation. Even the death of Gale, erased from history, was known to the gods—and to him.

But was Melania the only one who knew about the illegitimate Ian’s oath?

‘I hope it’s nothing troublesome.’

Ian thought as he unfolded the note, then folded it carefully.

Illegitimate Ian. Who exactly was this person? Bearing traces of magic and talent for alchemy—what kind of life had he lived before waking in Count Bratz’s backyard?

‘At least one thing is clear.’

That Emperor Ian had awakened as Illegitimate Ian. There were far more causes and effects tangled in that than he’d imagined.

Cradling the jewelry box, Ian climbed into the carriage.

---

A dim bedroom.

Faint light filtered through thick curtains, but soon it would be swallowed by night.

Ian stepped into the small room that led to Delaina’s bedroom. Xiao Xi, who had been sitting in a chair, stood up to greet him.

“Your Highness?”

“She’s inside.”

“Still?”

“Yes.”

Creak.

Surprisingly, there was the unmistakable scent of impending death. It was different from when Beric had been brought in, battered and broken.

The sharp metallic smell of blood usually signals life, but this faint, lingering scent of medicine felt like the fragile thread barely holding on to her remaining time.

“…Is she—?”

Ian paused in the narrow space connecting Xiao Xi’s room to the bedroom, catching faint murmurs from Jin’s solitary voice.

The boy was lying beside Delaina’s bed, speaking softly and tenderly.

“When I first had a tutor… actually, I was the one praised in literature back then. I was too foolish to say anything.”

“……”

“If only I had caught the moments when things started to go wrong, earlier… Mother, you wouldn’t be lying here like this, would you?”

“……”

Delaina gave no answer, but Jin didn’t stop. He gently stroked his withered hand, sniffling, imagining his mother’s reply all on his own. Then, resting his forehead on her shoulder once more.

Jin wiped away tears and, whenever a memory surfaced, spoke to her with quiet affection.

“When I see yellow flowers, I think of you. You know? Yellow suits you so well.”

“……”

Was this how they were spending the last ten years of unspoken words—repeating, over and over, what they never said?

Ian leaned against the wall, silently waiting. The more Jin’s sobs grew, the more Ian thought of his own mother. When she passed, had he cried like this? He couldn’t remember.

“…Ah.”

“Mother.”

Jin caught a faint, pained call from his mother and listened closely. Ian couldn’t hear it. Tears welled in the boy’s blue eyes, and with a pained frown, he pressed his lips against his mother’s forehead.

“No, no, it’s not like that. It’s not true. I will live a long time. Long enough to forget ten years of memories. So please, don’t say that.”

Delaina weakly raised her hand and touched the wound on her son’s shoulder. Slowly, she moved her fingers, as if trying to gauge the injuries Marib and Ian had inflicted.

Then—

Her strength suddenly left her, and her hand fell.

Jin gasped and quickly grabbed her wrist, but all he felt was the unmistakable stillness.

“Mother?”

Delaina’s breath had stopped. Jin trembled, choking out desperate cries. The sound was so raw and heart-wrenching, it was hard to believe it came from a child. But now, Jin was truly alone. His father had never been around, and until now, he had lived here with his mother and siblings…

“No, no, please! Mother, wait!”

“Your Highness.”

“Lord Ian! Lord Ian!”

Jin tried to call for help, inhaling sharply, but the sobs kept pouring out uncontrollably.

“Your Highness, I will summon someone.”

“Sniff….”

At Ian’s words, Jin wiped his tears with his sleeve, curling inward to stifle the endless grief. Ian had told him that precious people mustn’t show their tears.

“Your Highness.”

Ian reached out, but Jin hid his face in his cloak. Hearing the commotion, Xiao Xi peeked inside. At his quiet summons, the outside grew restless.

“Call a doctor. A death declaration is necessary.”

“Oh! W-wait a moment!”

“Hold on. Is there anyone outside? Anyone at all?”

Pat, pat, pat.

“Please cover her, Lord Ian.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I will cover her.”

“And stay here.”

“Yes, I will stay right here.”

“Here, all the time…”

“……”

The attendants and doctor rushed in urgently, but Ian silenced them with a finger pressed to his lips, signaling for quiet. They passed by Jin without a glance and began examining Delaina’s condition.

“…We’ll need to prepare a black cloth.”

And so, Jin’s mother slipped away.