Chapter 120
But Vigros could not understand any of it. The Empress’s death had been a tragedy, but how could that possibly have been their fault?
Flustered, he looked up at his mother, only to see her lips pressed tightly together. Even the color had drained from them, and a sudden wave of fear seized him. His mother pulled him even closer into her embrace as she glared at the Emperor.
The Emperor spoke.
‘I never imagined you would do such a thing. To have harbored and hidden a seed that should have been killed.’
‘Those are my words to you, Your Majesty. I never knew you were capable of such cruelty.’
With vacant eyes, Vigros met Ovid’s gaze as it bore into him. It looked as though the Crown Prince might lunge at him that very instant and tear out his throat.
The Emperor spoke softly.
‘Leave us, my son.’
The obedient Crown Prince smoothed away the sharpness from his expression before quietly leaving the garden.
Vigros could only stand there in bewilderment. Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.
The Emperor he looked up at absentmindedly gazed back at him with eyes he had never seen before. It made him feel like something filthy. Something utterly worthless.
‘The blood has not even dried yet. Was your husband’s head still not enough for you?’
‘…Those are my words to you as well.’
His mother’s voice trembled with grief, but not for a single moment did she yield.
Back then, he hadn’t understood that she was doing it all to protect her child.
The Emperor pointed at his younger self, who stood there trembling uncontrollably. His gaze was filled with contempt.
‘Why did you hide it? Isn’t that scum standing right there? Have you forgotten, despite being one of the Imperial Family, how the Imperial House came to possess this glory?’
‘…Do not talk about my child like that.’
‘Indeed. When the prophecy was first delivered, I believed you to be scum. I thought your power would awaken when death came for you.’
The Emperor’s cold gaze fell upon the place where the enormous birdcage had stood.
‘But I was wrong. It was your child who was scum. What a troublesome situation. The Duke of Elrah has already been beheaded, yet if you die, and your child dies as well, the title of Duke of Elrah will be left vacant.’
‘Even now, Your Majesty’s only concern is the Empire? Surely no one could fail to see that it has become nothing more than a sandcastle on the verge of collapse, riddled with holes of Your Majesty’s own making! How utterly hypocritical you are, Your Majesty!’
‘Everything I have done has been for the good of the Empire. For peace.’
‘No. You’re just smearing lies on your lips. This is not peace—it is violence. It is not mercy—it is all for the sake of preserving Your Majesty’s imperial authority. How long do you truly believe that glory will last?’
“I, and my son, and his son after him will carry on.”
Scum. The duke had been beheaded. The ducal title would be left vacant…
‘If only these scum would stop being born.’
The Emperor stepped forward. Trembling violently in his mother’s arms, Vigros shrank back.
The Emperor’s face looked like that of a ghost. Like the gaze of the dead. Like an evil spirit.
A hand reached toward him. He squeezed his eyes shut, but what touched him was nothing more than cold, calloused fingertips.
The finger pressed into the space between his brows, then slid painfully down the bridge of his nose like the edge of a dagger.
Then it seized his cheek with bruising force.
His mother held him tightly, as though determined not to let him be taken away, while the Emperor gripped his face so hard it felt as though his skull would crack.
‘If you promise me one thing, I will spare your child alone. I have grown rather fond of you over the years, after all.’
‘…How very merciful of Your Majesty.’
‘Do you still have the leisure to sneer? Wasn’t your greatest wish to save your child, no matter the cost?’
‘…Are you trying to turn my child into your son’s dog’
‘Even so, wasn’t it your intention to keep him alive? The House of Elrah is still necessary to me.’
His head was spinning.
In truth, back then, he had already fainted from the dizziness. As a child, he had yet to master the use of his power. Perhaps because his ability was so absurdly overpowered, its limitations were just as severe. As consciousness slipped away amidst the dizzying pain, he heard the soft rasp of a sword being drawn.
‘Very well.’
His mother spoke. Then the Emperor’s voice followed.
‘Your son will become the Duke of Elrah… and live for my son.’
* * *
“Gah!”
“…Mmm…”
Staggering as though he had been struck head-on, Vigros stumbled away from Iora. Cold sweat clung damply to his temples.
He had been completely outplayed. A hollow laugh escaped him.
“Ugh.”
“Vig…ros…?”
Iora’s eyelids fluttered. Remarkable. Never before had anyone driven him into a corner like this. Iora was truly the first.
At last, the sleeping girl slowly opened her eyes.
Her gaze was unfocused, still hazy, as though she had yet to fully regain consciousness.
What was he supposed to say?
What could he even possibly say?
“Vigros.”
“……”
He held his breath, tense and motionless, as Iora slowly pushed herself upright and reached out her hand.
As though bewitched. As though he had become a puppet tied to invisible strings. Without realizing it, Vigros found himself frozen rigid before her.
The hand drew closer. Then, gently, it touched him.
Soft and warm, her hand brushed tenderly across his cheek with a familiarity that was almost painfully affectionate. The motion was like someone carefully wiping something away.
Only then did Vigros realize that tears were streaming down his face.
Iora had wiped away his tears.
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