Chapter 66
“…Huh?”
Kiara’s frown deepened.
This world had no consistent rules, no dependable logic. And though she’d been doing her best to adjust, this part was particularly hard to swallow.
Future queen didn’t mean current queen, and yet everyone seemed perfectly content to blur the line whenever it suited them.
Not that there was anything she could do about it, even if she didn’t like it.
Laine, as if catching on to her mood, clicked his tongue and added:
“Altnebra’s history goes back even further than the Empire’s founding. Surely you didn’t think becoming queen here was as simple as holding a wedding, did you?”
“Ah, r-right, I suppose not?”
Kiara let out a weak laugh, caught off guard. Laine chuckled knowingly, like he’d expected just that response.
“Among those formalities is a procedure for granting access to the royal-restricted areas. Tell me — has the head maid here ever taken your blood?”
“…Oh!”
The exclamation burst from her lips before she could stop it.
She suddenly remembered: during one of their long embroidery sessions, Raelin had pricked her finger with a needle, drawing a drop of blood.
‘I did wonder back then…why had she wiped the blood away with silk of all things?’
And not just any silk, either.
A white handkerchief, pristine and unused, embroidered in silver thread with rows of snarling lions. Something clearly made for ceremony, not stains.
And yet, it had been used for that. To take her blood? What on earth had they used her blood for?
As Kiara stared, her expression shaded with growing suspicion, Raelin spoke up.
“For Lord Blaine. Or rather, for His Majesty the King…”
Raelin spoke hesitantly, her eyes flicking toward Laine as if checking for permission before she continued.
“…They drop a trace of His Majesty’s blood onto yours. So the two can mix.”
“Excuse me?”
“That way, you’re able to enter spaces reserved only for royal blood. Same goes for me. His Majesty… was generous like that, even to those who serve him.”
A faint smile had crept onto Raelin’s lips — as if the mere thought of the king was enough to warm her.
Laine, listening in with a raised brow, cut in smoothly.
“Every section of the palace is regulated by access tier. The head maid has clearance to the most restricted areas. The king’s bedchamber, the royal archives… You understand now, don’t you?”
He gave her a wink, as if letting her in on some delicious piece of gossip. His chuckle deepened into a full, dry laugh.
“Your friend Maeve, or whatever his name is, wouldn’t be allowed in the archive. Can’t have someone from a fallen kingdom stomping through the king’s chambers with mud on their boots — even he had his limits, I suppose.”
Judging by the constant sarcasm dripping from his tone, Laine seemed to hold little respect for either Ael or the now-deposed King Blaine.
Not that Kiara had a clear picture of how grand this so-called “Royal Historical Society” president was supposed to be.
‘So he’s not just a scholar… is he?’
Kiara stared at him with growing suspicion. From the way he came and went so freely in a space supposedly on par with the king’s bedchamber, it was hard to believe Laine was merely a scholar.
As if sensing her thoughts, Laine spoke again, his tone light but pointed.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m more than capable of bashing in that idiot king’s skull if it came to it.”
“Laine!”
Raelin gasped, scandalized, but Laine hardly seemed to notice, let alone care.
“If you must know, I’m technically of royal blood. Fairly high in the line, apparently… Not that I care. I prefer being called a scholar, thank you. Let the illiterate nobles think what they like.”
“Laine, I’m begging you, please!”
“Yes, yes, head maid, I hear you. Though now that I think of it, I heard you were rather well-educated yourself, my lady. That’s… refreshing.”
Kiara just stared at him, dumbfounded. Whatever Laine was, he clearly had a close relationship with King Blaine.
‘…An older brother, maybe.’
But did Blaine even have a brother? Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall any mention of siblings, rifling through fragments of memory.
Before she could land on an answer, Laine asked instead, voice feigning innocence.
“By the way, if you’re feeling so sorry for this Maeve friend of yours, couldn’t you just read the book yourself and pass the contents along?”
Huh?
Kiara stared at Laine in a daze. It wasn’t a bad idea — if she could read, that is.
“That’s…”
But it was far too embarrassing to admit to someone who had just been talking about her supposed level of knowledge that she couldn’t read. As Kiara hesitated, Laine added bluntly:
“Of course, it’s not like I want to be of any help to that mad lion or golden lion or whatever he is… so don’t even think of asking me.”
Kiara closed her slightly parted lips again. It felt as if she could hear Ael’s grumbling voice echoing in her head.
Altnebrans, stubborn as hell.
“Not that I have any desire to help that idiot king reclaim the country he was stupid enough to lose in the first place, so I won’t get in your way if you want to read it yourself and tell him.”
It was as if he were peering straight into her thoughts as he added the remark offhandedly.
Even as he spoke, he casually smoothed out the wrinkled sleeve of his robe, creased from flinging books around. He was so nonchalant about it that Kiara felt a wave of nausea fluttering through her chest, in sync with the flutter of his gray robe.
In the end, she had no choice but to confess.
“I… um, I can’t… read.”
Discussion
0 CommentsNo comments yet.