Chapter 315

A silence crackled like thin ice breaking beneath a cautious step. It was clear that Romandro and Timothy were pressed close outside, straining to listen.

Time seemed to freeze in the study until Damon, without realizing it, began scraping at the sofa with his fingers. Ian’s gaze followed the movement of Damon’s fingertips. The tips had turned pale, revealing just how tightly he was gripping.

“Good thing the sofa’s tough,” Ian remarked.

Had it been any softer, Damon would have long since lost his composure, like the shattered vase lying on the floor.

Damon shot him a fierce look in response. His mind was clearly tangled. No wonder—though the secret had been uncovered, Damon had gained nothing from it.

“There’s not much time left before we leave the palace. We should hurry with the investigation. Please make sure to check if anyone switched pouches while staying in the imperial palace. Even the smallest hint of trouble could cause serious problems.”

When high-ranking leaders of the nation meet, it’s never just lighthearted banter. Behind the scenes, family clans and officials exchange favors and deals—some legitimate, some less so.

If the dealings were constructive, the palace would commend them. But occasionally, illegal activities get exposed, and that’s the real issue. Ian was warning Damon to be cautious with the pouch of gold and jewels he received in return.

“Did the gypsy really make such a prophecy?”

“You mean the one about Burgos’s future?”

Ian nodded calmly. Just as Damon had forced the gypsy’s life or death to get what he wanted, Ian intended to do the same.

“You can ask before the gypsy dies. That one feeds on secrets, not on keeping prophecies.”

If the gypsy were still alive, or if his breath truly was fading, they could simply go ask. Isn’t that right?

Damon frowned at Ian’s refusal to confirm the truth. Then, as if to end the matter, he admitted:

“…The gypsy is gone.”

This was the imperial palace, and the opponent was a mage. The truth would come out once the investigation began. It was better to step aside than to stubbornly stand in the way.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The blood on the dagger belongs to someone unrelated to the gypsy.”

Ian smiled ruefully but felt relief inside.

He had expected as much. Still, this was a matter of utmost importance. Even the tiniest risk could not be allowed to touch Bariel’s future.

“I see. Then, rather than an investigation, we’ll just verify.”

Though similar words, the meaning was clear: they would only confirm whether Damon’s testimony was true. The king stared at the water trickling beneath the carpet and muttered:

“…I don’t know how that gypsy saw the future, but this time, he was wrong.”

Much had already changed. More changes were coming soon. The early deaths of the king and queen were proof, as was Ian’s very presence before Damon.

“You say it’s the same as before? You should be wary. Otherwise, your very existence—and that of the crown prince—will sink into doubt.”

“What do you mean?”

Ian asked.

Was Damon hinting that in his previous life, Jin and Ian did not exist? But that couldn’t be, since Ian had clearly seen Jin’s portrait in Emperor Ian’s life.

Damon seemed unwilling to explain further, turning his head firmly and settling his posture.

“One thing is certain. You acknowledge that I live two lives. You will regret not following me now.”

“Oh? That’s already a pity. Does Bariel fall in the future?”

Ridiculous. Bariel would stand strong for at least a hundred more years. Only Emperor Ian’s existence had crumbled. When Ian responded with disbelief, Damon openly showed contempt.

“They say we are like gods, but you’re surprisingly dull. I’ll leave the gates of Burgos open. If you ever have the mind, you’re welcome to step inside.”

He tapped Ian’s shoulder lightly, pushing him away with his fingertips. A warning smile revealed his teeth. Damon whispered quietly:

“Even if not this time, I will keep shaping the future I want, and someday, I will win. I’ll remember your smiling face clearly.”

Ian’s eyes flickered at the ambiguous remark.

What did “this time” mean?

Was it the moment the secret was uncovered in the palace?

Or the second life?

If the latter, did that mean a third life was also in his plans? It was hard to say. Ian lightly brushed away Damon’s fingers from his shoulder.

‘…I came back through time thanks to Naum, but how did Damon manage to return? The gypsy said it was related to his brother’s death. Was he a mage too?’

If Damon knew the secret of returning, Ian could use that to unravel his own mystery.

Better to leave a small opening.

Just in case. Even the tiniest one.

“I only placed faith in the gypsy’s prophecy. Even if the king knows the future, if the flow doesn’t change, then he’s no different from an old man reminiscing over a diary long after the fact…”

If the flow changes as desired, then knowing the future is meaningless, isn’t it?

It was a question that cut to the core. Damon curled the corner of his mouth.

“…Impressive. More than the rumors said.”

“It’s always hard to surpass rumors. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As Damon adjusted his clothes, his short hair swayed gracefully. Ian realized he had revealed too much in their conversation.

Silence is perfect for avoidance, yet it leaves traces. Ian sensed Damon’s true intentions hidden beneath his words.

A king caught between the future he wants to change and the time-loop information that would render it all useless.

“One last question. Since you say we are bound by fate, I hope you’ll answer honestly.”

“Ask.”

“Does Timothy know?”

About the gypsy, Damon, and Ian’s secret.

The truth was simple, but not easy to say now.

‘No matter what I say, Timothy will be in trouble.’

If Ian said he knew, Timothy would be seen as a traitor who colluded with Ian to betray and manipulate his lord. But if Ian said he didn’t know, that would cause problems too…

‘I was hostile to Damon on Bariel’s side. So if I’m asked this, the natural attack is to say Timothy knows. That would easily ruin their relationship. But if I say no, that Timothy is unaware and uninvolved?’

That would raise suspicion as well. Damon might think Ian was protecting Timothy. It was a true dilemma—no matter how Ian answered, Timothy would lose Damon’s trust.

The very fact Damon asked showed his distrust.

“No. He doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t know?”

“It’s best to say he’s not involved.”

If it’s a problem either way, telling the truth is the right choice. Ian bowed his head and answered sincerely. Damon looked down at the back of his head with violet eyes.

Clink.

Damon walked over to the desk and rang the bell. As if on cue, the study door swung open. Romandro and Timothy entered at once, calling out:

“You summoned us, Lord Ian?”

“Your Majesty, are you all right?”

Goodness. How did such a chill fill the dark study? Romandro hesitated, eyeing the shattered glass on the floor, then looked at Ian, his mouth moving as if to ask if he was hurt. The sight was oddly amusing.

“I accidentally broke it. Send the servants to clean up. His Highness Damon says he’s leaving.”

“Oh? Is that so? So it was you, Lord Ian, who accidentally broke it. Huh. The one who flawlessly handles hundreds of reports made a mistake? In front of His Highness Damon, no less. Hmm.”

Muttering to himself, Romandro glanced at Damon and grumbled repeatedly. He clearly didn’t believe it.

No matter that he was king—such a scene in the Bariel Minister’s study! And the Minister of Magic at that! It was unprecedented and unheard of!

“Your Highness, shall I call a carriage?”

“Yes. Minister Ian, enjoy your pleasant chat and then go.”

Clatter.

Damon crushed the glass shards deliberately as he left the study. His subordinates waiting in the reception room poured out after him, disappearing around the corner.

Romandro immediately shouted loudly:

“Damn it, crazy!”

“It’s fine, Romandro. I truly broke it.”

“If it were Beric, maybe I’d believe it. But you want me to believe that? Where did you throw the vase? If even a scratch marks that precious face, this is a national crisis I won’t stand for!”

Ian just laughed at Romandro’s exaggerated outburst. After all, he had played a part in provoking Damon’s anger. Ian sat back down at the desk and asked:

“Did you hand over the pass without issue?”

“Yes. He seemed clueless but tucked it safely away.”

“Good. That’s a relief.”

“By the way, why did you give him that? Sir Timothy is a diplomat; it probably won’t be of much use. If there’s another reason, tell me. I’ll find a suitable gift.”

He was asking if there was any special contact planned with the delegation. Timothy probably wouldn’t be swayed by bribes, but the Ministry of Magic could still try something.

Ian shook his head.

“It was truly a pure gift from me.”

A small courtesy to the ancestors who made Naum’s existence possible. I had many doubts before giving it, but since it was something inevitable, I wanted it to at least bring some comfort.

“…Judging by King Damon, it won’t take him long to use it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, Lord Romandro. It seems the Gypsy is still in the capital. I think it’s best if I handle it personally, so please gather a suitable team. And…”

If the Gypsy continued to roam freely across the world like now, it wouldn’t be a problem. But if he fell into Damon’s hands, that would be trouble. The secret of Jin still remained inside her womb. So, it would be better for Ian to catch him before Damon did.

“The Gypsy is still in the capital? Well, that’s impressive. Understood. This time, I’ll form an investigative team in cooperation with the royal guard. And?”

“I’ll send someone to Burgos.”

Romandro stopped taking notes and looked puzzled. Burgos was where the Gypsy had come from, and now they were sending someone there? What was going on?

“Someone? Who should I assign?”

“Someone swift and skilled at gathering intelligence.”

“What’s the mission?”

Since Damon was hiding something beneath his rhetoric, Ian had no choice but to dig deeper. He would start by looking into the biggest gap between Damon’s past and present lives.

“I want to find out more about King Damon’s siblings.”

“Siblings?”

The many half-brothers and half-sisters who had sown discord between the couple. If he hoped the brother who had led him to ruin in his past life had never been born, then just driving a wedge between the couple was enough.

“Did he have siblings? I don’t think there were many.”

“Include the deceased as well. Even rumors will do. If it’s information about anyone bearing the name of his siblings, bring it all back.”

The more Ian worked, the harder it was to read his true intentions. Romandro sighed but diligently wrote down the tasks.

“Understood. I’ll select the right people and submit a report. But before that, don’t forget to keep your schedule flexible next week.”

“Next week? Ah, yes.”

Ian nodded as he checked the calendar on his desk. The festival would be over, and finally, the engagement ceremony of Filia and Nersarn would take place.

You haven’t forgotten, have you? Romandro said, placing a hand on his hip and giving him a sharp look. Ian let out a soft chuckle—a warm smile that instantly melted the icy tension between them.

“I won’t miss it. I’ll be there.”