Chapter 237
“You’ve come.”
Camille’s confinement had been sudden. The lifting of it was just as sudden.
A messenger arrived at the Imperial Princess Palace with word that she was free to leave again—and that the Emperor was summoning her. Then, in the audience chamber, alone with his daughter, the Emperor greeted her with those first words.
Camille smiled, baring her teeth. There was no trace of the obedient attitude she had shown until now. The Emperor grasped that at once and snapped.
“How dare you look at the Emperor like that! Do you dare resent me?”
Her confinement had been for the attempted assassination of the Crown Prince. If Camille hadn’t been a direct Imperial Princess and the owner of the Ja’an, she would have been executed on the spot without a single question. Thinking his daughter was even more brazen than he’d imagined, the Emperor’s fury flared.
Camille could see straight through her father.
The only Ja’an owner of his generation, a direct descendant, and blessed with a reasonably handsome appearance… Her father had never known hardship from birth to now. Because of that, he had the strong, naive arrogance of someone raised on indulgence, and he couldn’t imagine he might be missing something.
Abelus was the same. Until very recently, Camille had liked the foolishness of the two men.
Because it didn’t restrict her.
‘While the court was in chaos, I fixed it—and planted my people everywhere without them even noticing.’
Yes, the Crown Prince was Abelus. And the Emperor and his wife worried that Camille would infringe on her brother’s authority. Even so, she had held the reins of state affairs and guided them from behind.
Because she had been blinding the Emperor for a long time.
There were limits, but in departments Camille had completely taken over… for example, matters related to the Imperial Investigation Unit, the Emperor was nothing more than a figurehead. How many “important prisoners” had been created for the ideal court she envisioned? How many had been pardoned without his knowledge?
She received little praise for any of it, but Camille felt rewarded by expanding the glory of the Imperial Family. She was satisfied with her reality. If Abelus ascended the throne as planned, she believed she would hold the real power behind him for the rest of her life, then leave the world peacefully as the one who secured eternal prosperity for House of Bistor.
But she couldn’t be satisfied anymore.
Not after realizing how easily what she built could be destroyed by a foolish brother and a greedy commoner.
Even as the Emperor scolded her with a dignity he still managed to maintain, his face reddened with anger. Camille continued to look up at him with insolent eyes.
She watched him for a long moment. Then she finally spoke.
“Did you ask if I resent you?”
Of course she did.
Camille had already heard from her subordinates that Nellusion and Megara were working together. She still needed to find out why the news had reached her so late, but either way, it was only a matter of time before she proved her innocence.
And Camille assumed her father had heard by now. He simply didn’t want to admit he’d been wrong, so he was scolding her like this.
It was obvious. He had always been like that.
‘So my moons are hidden crescent moons.’
Beings that would someday illuminate her life, dark as night.
The Emperor waited for Camille to continue. When he realized her answer had ended with that single question, he glared.
“It seems you haven’t repented.”
“Repentance?”
She laughed. Camille actually laughed out loud.
“What should I repent for, Father? You should know by now. I never tried to harm Abelus. I’ve been looking forward to the day he becomes Emperor. Why would I do something so pointless?”
“How dare you look the Emperor in the eye—cough, cough!”
The Emperor broke into a violent coughing fit.
Even in middle age, he was still of Bistor blood, stronger than others thanks to the power of the Ja’an. How could a blessed being, destined to be healthy for life, be struck by illness?
As he coughed harshly, a strange expression crossed his face.
Thud, thud.
Camille walked toward the throne on the highest platform of the audience chamber. Her steps on the stairs were heavy, as if she were venting her anger into the floor, each one carrying a weight of meaning.
When she reached the top, Camille looked down at her father and asked in a blank voice.
“Are you in pain?”
“Y-you…!”
He was suffocating. Something was wrong. The Emperor stared up at his daughter, his face twisted with anger and fear. Camille spoke in a flat tone, as if reciting a passage she’d memorized.
“I analyzed and reinforced the cause of the failure during the previous Grand Duchess. The sacrifice was cheap, but it seemed the ‘eye’ was the problem. During the research process, I did some experiments on you. Are you all right? That’s why you’ve been feeling unwell lately.”
Only those with Ja’an could be targets of Seal magic. There was no way she would perform such special magic formally without testing it in secret first. After the Grand Duchess’s Seal had been broken, she had to reinforce it—find the shortcomings in the formula, correct them, and try again.
As parents, they could do that much for her, couldn’t they? They had also taken from her the Crown Prince position that should have rightfully been hers.
The Emperor didn’t understand what she was saying. What had she done in the Grand Duchess’s time? But Camille hadn’t meant for him to understand in the first place.
She had lived a very long childhood, she thought. She had clung to the desire to be the most loved child—more noticed than her siblings—for longer than necessary.
‘It’s easy to cut it off like this.’
Camille blinked once, slowly. Then she leaned down and whispered into the Emperor’s ear.
“Shh… Don’t be too scared. Do you think I’d kill the same blood? Even my parents who gave birth to me. Just…”
A brief silence.
“You’re just falling asleep. Maybe I’ll wake you again someday, when everything is over.”
So he could serve as a stepping stone while she rearranged the entire board.
The Emperor coughed roughly and shouted.
“Guards! Guards!”
His hoarse voice echoed through the audience chamber.
No one came.
Not the attendants who should have been waiting nearby. Not even the Emperor’s shadows.
Camille let out a sigh.
“Father, you still believe everything will naturally go the way you want. Did you think I would simply… leave obstacles in place? That’s why you were jealous of me. You were afraid of me. It seems I’m the only one with a brain in this family.”
“Who’s jealous! I knew it—you’re a terrible bastard who doesn’t even recognize her parents, cough! Ever since that happened, cough!”
His face flushed deep red. Even as he continued coughing, he forced his voice louder, still hoping someone would hear him.
For the first time, anger flickered across Camille’s expressionless face. She whispered, sharp and menacing.
“How many times do I have to tell you? That was a mistake. Just because of that….”
“How is that a mistake! Is there another child who tries to strangle her younger sibling when he isn’t even a year old!”
It was a secret only a small portion of the Imperial Family knew.
Born as the first child and the owner of the Ja’an, Camille had been raised as the next Emperor as a matter of course. The Emperor and his wife had been proud of their clever daughter, and everyone revered her as the center of the world.
Until her younger brother, Abelus, was born.
To be precise, Abelus’s birth itself couldn’t have affected Camille’s position. She was the first child, and there was already a significant age gap. But where power gathered, others were bound to have their own thoughts.
Some nobles entertained foolish ideas the moment another child with azure eyes was born. Others, disgusted by those whispers, fed them back to the young Imperial Princess as poison.
As the Emperor said, Abelus wasn’t even a year old. Camille had tried to kill him to eliminate future threats.
Fortunately for Abelus, a servant witnessed it in time. The child was saved, and the parents questioned their eldest about what she’d done.
“Didn’t you say we should be able to cast aside even our own flesh and blood for the prosperity of the Imperial Family, Father?”
Young Camille answered without a shred of guilt.
The Emperor and his wife watched her for a while, trying to judge whether she meant it. Then they decided that if their eldest kept the Crown Prince position, she might someday kill her parents as well.
After that incident, Abelus—clearly more foolish than Camille—was made Crown Prince. Nobles who didn’t know the truth, and Abelus himself, believed he must have had some other quality that earned him the position.
“I’m sick of hearing that story. Is there any Imperial Family member who hasn’t eliminated threats in advance to protect our long history? And even now, with the Imperial Family in danger, you’re still clinging to useless words.”
A smile formed on Camille’s wax-doll face.
“I’m done making futile efforts to please the two of you. Rest in peace.”
The Emperor’s vision began to blur. A hallucination rose before his eyes—the most terrible sadness and fear he had ever experienced…
Watching, Camille whispered coldly.
“Father, it was Abelus’s idea to call me here today, wasn’t it?”
That was right. But what did it matter? The Emperor clawed at his own throat, trying to regain his senses, but it wasn’t working.
“Maybe it was that mistress who incited Abelus to use you to lure me out. A few days ago, I deliberately released the ‘sacrifice’ in front of her for a moment. I wanted to feel the variables on my side and provoke her. But…”
Footsteps—many of them—suddenly rushed through the quiet outside. Camille didn’t stop speaking.
“She probably didn’t know, either. That she’d get the excuse to suppress me—something she’s been searching for constantly—so easily, today. And how delighted must she be, knowing Abelus, whom she prides herself on holding tightly, will be handling state affairs from now on?”
Camille’s expression twisted slightly, as if that point disgusted her.
Then the audience chamber doors were thrown open behind her.
Knights poured in. The Emperor was only groaning now, whether from shock or pain. The knights went pale at the sight—His Majesty clutching his own throat, and the Imperial Princess standing quietly above him, looking down.
And Abelus stepped out between them.
“Sister, what is this! Are you trying to harm Father too, not just me?”
He must have guessed the situation after hearing there was no one near the chamber. So he brought a crowd of witnesses.
Had he thought of it himself, or was it the mistress’s idea?
Camille turned to her brother and smiled strangely. Her eyes were filled with seething hatred, but the corners of her mouth curled as if they couldn’t help it.
Yes. She had wanted this for a long time.
She wanted to torment her father—by any means possible.
The father who had cast her aside in an instant because she’d tried to protect her position, then began cherishing only that fool.
“She’s a traitor who tried to assassinate His Majesty the Emperor! Arrest her immediately, and call someone to check on His Majesty’s condition! Call all the doctors and priests!”
“Yes!”
Camille allowed herself to be dragged away as if she’d been waiting for it. Since he’d ordered them to call everyone, this would spread through the entire capital before the night was over.
Thud, thud.
Abelus stepped onto the platform. The Emperor was nearly unconscious.
Abelus couldn’t understand why his father had become like this. But his clever Megara had warned him this might happen.
He’d never thought the warning would become reality… but he also knew this could be an opportunity.
“Don’t worry, Father. I will definitely find a way to bring you back.”
He whispered it to the Emperor, who was starting to groan faintly. Then he turned to the knights and declared, his eyes shining.
“Since His Majesty’s health is not good, I, the Crown Prince, will handle state affairs for a time. There is no time to delay, so I declare the first matter that must be addressed! There are ominous movements in the north—send soldiers in the name of the Three Heroes, the saviors of the continent!”