Chapter 170

“This place… not even ‘Shadow’ knows about.”

As the hidden wall shut tight behind them, Cledwyn let out a low whistle.

Nerys braced herself for questions. Even if he suspected she was in league with the imperial family, she had no defense right now.

Sure, she’d almost been murdered by one of them moments ago—but Princess Camille’s will wasn’t the same as the Empire’s.

The imperial palace, twisted by centuries of scheming, was riddled with secret passageways. Only the Emperor knew them all. The Crown Prince knew the second most. The number of passages the Empress and Crown Princess were told depended on their political influence.

When Nerys had been the Crown Princess, Abelus had only told her about a few. But in doing Camille’s dirty work, she had learned of several others—not even Abelus had known.

This one in particular, she had discovered by chance after seeing Camille exit it. Camille hadn’t meant to share it, and Nerys had picked up on her discomfort ever since.

So even ‘Shadow’ didn’t know it? That made sense. Camille hadn’t wanted Nerys to know either, despite having freely shared other palace routes when it suited her.

Nerys didn’t know exactly what this one was used for. She only knew it led toward a garden near the Emperor’s quarters. That was enough for today.

She glanced around. The corridor was flanked by sealed iron doors, with no sunlight, no tapestries, not even painted wood—just bare old stone. It resembled the dungeon where she’d once been imprisoned before her death in her previous life.

Those iron doors lacked handles. They were clearly locked with magic—and likely could only be opened by magic. Most likely, this was where high-value prisoners were kept.

She’d only used this passage once before—thanks to Camille’s nerves—and knew little else.

Trying to offer some kind of explanation, she said lightly:

“Even ‘Shadow’ can’t know every imperial route. The palace isn’t exactly open-access.”

Which would now prompt the question—why did ‘she’ know it?

She walked quickly to avoid looking at Cledwyn’s face, expecting the question to come.

But it didn’t.

No one said anything.

That silence was more uncomfortable than a poke in the ribs. Nerys’s throat felt dry as she imagined what they might be thinking.

‘‘Traitor! I told Father she was a spy! House Elandria is conspiring against the Empire!’’

‘‘How much classified information did you leak?’’

When House Elandria had declared independence in her past life, Abelus had raged and accused her of being a traitor from the beginning. He’d said that’s why he’d never felt attached to her.

Nerys could admit she had played a role not unlike that of a spy. But she had never truly betrayed the Empire. As Crown Princess, she had done her duty.

Yes, she had helped her family on occasion—but so had Megara Lykeandros, who brought far more benefits to House Lykeandros.

But no explanation had mattered. She’d been tortured as a scapegoat, her body ruined beyond recovery. And in the end…

The memory of being condemned by the very people she’d tried to protect returned. Years had passed, but it was not a wound that healed easily.

Unconsciously, her fists clenched. Then, she turned to face the others.

Cledwyn smiled faintly. Dora grinned brightly.

That made her heart sink even more.

After a moment of hesitation, she asked quietly,

“…You’re not going to ask?”

“Ask what? If you’re still astonishingly mysterious today?”

“Of course she is!” Dora chirped, dragging the assassin’s corpse behind her.

Nerys instantly regretted bringing it up.

Not that she would’ve known how to explain it anyway. Should she say she heard about it from the matron by chance? But who would believe Camille shared this?

Yet she had no idea how to respond to ‘this’ reaction either.

Still… her heart felt strangely warm. That unfamiliar comfort from Maindulante—the odd, overwhelming sense of being fully accepted…

It was awkward.

The joy was too obvious to play off. It scared her.

She turned her head away, unwilling to think about what kind of expression she might be making.

“Anyway, how did you show up just in time?”

“I dropped by to see you and noticed ‘Silver Moon’ acting strangely. So I came right away—turned out to be perfect timing.”

“Thanks. You saved me.”

“Even if I hadn’t, Dora was there.”

“Still. Let’s dump the body somewhere noticeable nearby. Imagine the Emperor’s face when he sees his daughter’s personal assassin lying dead in his courtyard.”

“Sounds good.”

Camille would want this assassination kept secret. But there was no reason to oblige her.

Dora tilted her head.

“What kind of face would that be, my lady?”

“Hmm. Probably furious. He’ll think his daughter tried to block his view again—and failed. He’ll restrict ‘Silver Moon’ for a while. So next time I come to the palace, I won’t have to worry about this.”

“Next time, don’t come.”

Cledwyn grumbled. Nerys kept walking through the passage.

“How can I not? If I’m summoned, I have to show up. What power do I have?”

“Is your work in that house still not done? What would they do if you just returned to Maindulante?”

Her lips pursed at the way he so naturally considered her part of the family—people who would protect her. She did it to keep from making a strange face.

“…It’s not over yet.”

She guessed about half of House Elandria’s funds were frozen. Most of their social connections were distancing themselves.

But that wouldn’t last. She had to deal one final, irreversible blow.

“Want help?”

“I’d appreciate it. This time ‘Shadow’s’ help would be best. It’s hard to leak things to the palace using Joan alone.”

“What is it?”

Nerys turned and gave him a bright smile.

“The Duke of Elandria has acted like a loyal dog to the Empire. But he hasn’t succeeded in fooling everyone. You know what high nobles in the capital prefer when they need to silence someone?”

“If you hadn’t said ‘in the capital,’ I’d have said ‘they kill them.’ Is there another answer?”

Cledwyn’s face lit up—even though this was a topic she’d never spoken to him about. Nerys nodded.

“Outside the capital, they just kill. But here, they kill ‘and’ frame another house for it. Plenty of families here are tangled in long, bitter grudges.”

Like how House Wells had killed Redeng families while pinning the blame on other Redeng people.

Like how Camille tried to kill her using House Elandria’s hand.

Cledwyn smirked in understanding.

“So someone killed a person they really shouldn’t have.”

“Birds of a feather marry together. The Duke wants to be king, and he knows if the Empire finds out, he’s finished. So when even a hint of a leak appears, he kills everyone involved. There are at least seven nobles who’ve died this way—Keperson, Hudian, Bichert…”

Nerys remembered their names well.

They had died before she was adopted in her past life. When House Elandria declared their monarchy, the Empire had tried to use their deaths to discredit the new regime.

The Empire didn’t want to lose the legitimacy granted by claiming descent from the Three Heroes. Even beyond political advantages, they needed that symbolic claim.

Though they failed in the end—and legitimized the new kingdom by making Valentin the new Crown Princess—Nerys remembered it all.

“If the victims’ families all appeal to the Empire at once, the Duke won’t be able to stop it. The Empire will crush House Elandria. At least until Nellusion becomes duke, they’ll be completely immobilized. The name will survive, but that’s all.”

“Then… are you coming back?”

“Yes.”

She was tired of being surrounded by idiots at the Elandria estate. She responded naturally—so naturally it startled her.

She hadn’t even thought about her mother. But her instinctual reply to Cledwyn’s question had been: ‘returning’ to Maindulante.

‘…Back then…’

She’d had nowhere else to go. If House Elandria cast her out, she had no place in the world.

The tunnel ended. Cold air and bright light poured in.

Nerys felt the weight of the thick cloak draped over her shoulders anchoring her to the earth. She, who once floated like a ghost.

Then, suddenly, a warm, solid arm wrapped around her from behind. Cledwyn’s black hair shimmered as he pressed his face to the nape of her neck.

He inhaled deeply—like someone breathing for the first time in ages.

The embrace ended quickly. (T/N: PDA ALERTTTT!)

“Why not come back now?”

“If I do, they’ll claim Nellusion kidnapped a criminal in their custody. The Empire would send troops into Maindulante under the guise of enforcing the law.”

“Let them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Cledwyn Maindulante. What’s the point in confronting the Empire now? Picking fights just because you’re annoyed is foolish.”

The people of this land, for better or worse, still pledged loyalty to the Empire—out of habit, benefit, or emotion. Even the people of Maindulante revered the Three Heroes.

Now wasn’t the time to go to war. First, they needed to expose the hypocrisy.

The garden they emerged into was quiet. Yet it wasn’t far from the Emperor’s quarters.

Dora dumped the body in a conspicuous spot. Then she dropped and stepped on a button, making it look like it had been lost in passing.

“What’s that, Dora?”

“A button from one of the Duke’s servants. ‘Silver Moon’ will think House Elandria’s guard saved you.”

“And they’ll suspect the Duke knows about this secret route too. Well done, Dora.”

Nerys was pleased.

She had given Camille something to worry about, made the Duke suspicious, and planted doubt in the Emperor about both his daughter and his once-useful vassal.

A good day’s work. If she left the palace soon with a decent excuse, today’s trouble would be over.

“Let’s go.”

Before entering the public corridors, she sent Cledwyn off ahead. Dora vanished again to continue guarding in secret.

Soon after, Nerys approached a lone servant and spoke bashfully.

“Excuse me, I’m a relative of House Elandria. Would you happen to know where Nellusion is? I seem to have gotten lost.”

Her jeweled eyes served as an ID in themselves. The servant bowed courteously.

“Yes, my lady. Please, allow me to escort you.”