“The Priestess looks like she’s about to die. Could she have contracted an infectious disease?”
"Your Majesty."
“The high priest will come to remove the Priestess’s body.”
Late the next morning, Ivan questioned Louis with a displeased expression and left the castle built on the cursed land. He said he saw Amelia, who had been trying to purify the land, sweating and suffering alone, and he thought she might have contracted an infectious disease.
“That’s fortunate.”
Louis nodded at Amelia's answer. In truth, he'd been brought here as if he'd been kidnapped, and even the knights hadn't been able to join him. If Ivan had been determined to disturb the castle, one of the secrets might have been revealed. So, his departure was a blessing for everyone.
“I was lucky.”
The timing was good, Louis thought.
"No."
If Amelia hadn't objected, she would have believed that judgment.
"Yes?"
Louis asked with a bewildered expression. It was a reflexive response, born of surprise. A normal Amelia would have nodded silently or turned away without answering.
“I was the one who made him believe that and called Aaron here.”
“...”
“That’s not just luck.”
Amelia said that and lowered her feet to the bed. She didn't show any signs of distress, like she had heard, like she was sweating and gasping for breath.
“...Did the Priestess act?”
Considering all the circumstances, the answer was one. But honestly, she couldn't believe it, so she had no choice but to ask Amelia a question, as if testing her. Everything Amelia had been doing lately felt strange to Louis.
"Yes."
Amelia answered, roughly brushing away the wrinkles in her skirt.
“What are you doing? I have to go eat.”
Louis followed behind Amelia, who calmly suggested they go to the restaurant. She felt no fear at all, knowing that Ivan and the knights had left, leaving only Amelia, Joseph, and herself in the empty castle.
“The meal isn’t ready yet.”
But Joseph, whom she met at the restaurant, wasn't as easily swayed as Louis. He coldly replied that he wasn't ready yet because it wasn't dinner time.
“Then bring me some alcohol.”
“...”
“I brought the wine to feed the Emperor if the time comes. You have it with you.”
Amelia looked straight at Joseph and spoke.
“Alcohol...”
Louis, who was about to reflexively lash out at Amelia, paused. She noticed a faint smile on Joseph's expressionless face.
“When did you see that?”
“I’ve never seen it. I just guessed because you smelled like alcohol.”
Amelia answered indifferently. Joseph chuckled and then brought out a bottle of liquor. He brought three bottles.
“If you keep trying to stir up trouble, I’ll feed you and send you to the pit, but you’ll get sick of it.”
Moreover, the moment he opened the lid, the stench of alcohol hit her nose. It seemed to be quite strong. Louis turned her head away, her face aggravated by disgust.
“Do you know how to drink alcohol?”
“You’ll know once you try it.”
Joseph laughed at Amelia's refreshing answer. He then filled a glass and handed it to Amelia.
“Give it to Louis, too.”
“No, I...”
Louis tried to refuse, but it was of no use. Joseph filled the glass to the brim, just like he had offered Amelia, and handed it to Louis. Louis looked down at the clear liquid with a puzzled expression.
Her vision faltered. Amelia forced herself to strain her eyes, roughly rubbing her eyes with her hand. It was the moment she exhaled a breath that carried a strong scent of alcohol. With a thud, Joseph, who had been enjoying his drinks, collapsed onto the table.
“...”
Naturally, Louis, who was weak to alcohol, had already fallen asleep long ago. Amelia felt the alcohol ripple through her body as her tension eased. But she couldn't fall asleep like this. It was pointless to try and get Joseph and Louis to sleep with the poison.
Amelia rose from her seat as cautiously as possible. However, her already drunken body refused to obey, and the sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor irritated her ears. She suddenly came to her senses and looked at Joseph, but he had just fallen and showed no sign of waking up.
“The key...”
Amelia, barely regaining consciousness, stumbled out of the restaurant. According to the diary she'd found, there was only one key that protected the castle's secrets.
To be precise, everyone is mistaken. The key that Duke Russell believes is "the only one" is probably hidden somewhere by Joseph. However, finding the key Joseph had hidden was a risky endeavor.
"There is."
So Amelia returned to her bedroom and, just as she'd written in her diary, found the hidden key in a potted plant, left with only dirt. She then staggered toward the hidden entrance.
As they circled and descended the stairs, the sound of Amelia's drunken groans was not insignificant. Joseph, normally alert and alert, would have surely spotted her. But with only three people left, the castle was silent. The two who had been lulled to sleep by the alcohol had passed out completely.
“...”
And so, undisturbed, Amelia finally stood before the secret door. No, in fact, she still couldn't tell whether what was hidden inside was a secret or not. It was a tale like a ghost story written in someone's diary, and Amelia had come to confirm it.
All that can be known is by opening this door.
Even as she thought that, a sense of hesitation arose. Perhaps it was because she was certain she'd see something uncomfortable if everything she'd read were true. But even so, she couldn't ignore it. Amelia carefully inserted the key into the lock and turned it. With a click, the lock unlocked.
The exposed space was gloomy. Silent and lightless, the pitch-black space beneath the stairs resembled the gaping maw of a beast.
"It's okay."
There was an atmosphere that made it seem like a ghost might appear. But after all, we live every day facing people worse than ghosts. Ghosts weren't all that scary.
Amelia consoled herself like that, picked up the torch hanging on the nearest wall, and began to carefully descend the stairs.
“...”
And finally, they reached the end of the stairs. Amelia reached a point where it felt like the floor, not the stairs, and adjusted her torch. Only then did she take another step.
Then she saw what lay ahead. Dark and dense, the bars obscured my view.
“...Isn’t there any?”
In the pitch-black darkness, it was the only thing discernible by torchlight. She'd clearly said she'd been locked underground. Amelia muttered involuntarily and took another step forward.
"Ah."
At that moment, a group of people huddled together, their bodies pressed against each other like animals nestled against the dense bars to protect themselves from the cold. Amelia stopped walking as soon as she spotted them.
But they trembled, unable to even meet Amelia's gaze, as if they were unbearably afraid of who would come. It was a clear fear. Perhaps that's why they hid in the deepest darkness the moment they sensed any presence.
“...”
Amelia began to cautiously walk toward them. Crackle, crackle. The fire crackled and burned the wood. The wood burned itself, clearing its vision.
"Excuse me."
Amelia opened her mouth. The sound of precious fabric rustling and her soft voice naturally penetrated the ears of those who had been hidden.
"Shhh!"
“...”
“Don’t look. You can’t look. You’ll get caught.”
One of them cautiously raised his head. It was a boy, probably around five or six years old. The woman, who appeared to be the child's mother, hurriedly gathered her child into her arms and hid him. She then curled even tighter, holding the child in her arms, telling him not to look outside.
In that secret space lived a hidden people. They lived solely to ensure that the child she would conceive would have black hair and eyes, a boy with black eyes and black hair. While there were occasionally blondes or brown-haired ones mixed in, most had black hair.
It was exactly as she read in the diary.
To begin with, it would be impossible for a boy or young girl with a different eye color or hair color to remain there indefinitely. A man or a worthless woman without jet-black hair or eyes would be subject to experimentation regardless of age, so it's more accurate to say they couldn't survive in that space.
Could it be an illusion? Amelia squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to clear her hazy, shaky vision.
Father, your decisions are killing your daughter and innocent people.
But everything remained the same as before. Her vision was blurry, and the scene before her eyes changed.
"Your Majesty."
“The high priest will come to remove the Priestess’s body.”
Late the next morning, Ivan questioned Louis with a displeased expression and left the castle built on the cursed land. He said he saw Amelia, who had been trying to purify the land, sweating and suffering alone, and he thought she might have contracted an infectious disease.
“That’s fortunate.”
Louis nodded at Amelia's answer. In truth, he'd been brought here as if he'd been kidnapped, and even the knights hadn't been able to join him. If Ivan had been determined to disturb the castle, one of the secrets might have been revealed. So, his departure was a blessing for everyone.
“I was lucky.”
The timing was good, Louis thought.
"No."
If Amelia hadn't objected, she would have believed that judgment.
"Yes?"
Louis asked with a bewildered expression. It was a reflexive response, born of surprise. A normal Amelia would have nodded silently or turned away without answering.
“I was the one who made him believe that and called Aaron here.”
“...”
“That’s not just luck.”
Amelia said that and lowered her feet to the bed. She didn't show any signs of distress, like she had heard, like she was sweating and gasping for breath.
“...Did the Priestess act?”
Considering all the circumstances, the answer was one. But honestly, she couldn't believe it, so she had no choice but to ask Amelia a question, as if testing her. Everything Amelia had been doing lately felt strange to Louis.
"Yes."
Amelia answered, roughly brushing away the wrinkles in her skirt.
“What are you doing? I have to go eat.”
Louis followed behind Amelia, who calmly suggested they go to the restaurant. She felt no fear at all, knowing that Ivan and the knights had left, leaving only Amelia, Joseph, and herself in the empty castle.
“The meal isn’t ready yet.”
But Joseph, whom she met at the restaurant, wasn't as easily swayed as Louis. He coldly replied that he wasn't ready yet because it wasn't dinner time.
“Then bring me some alcohol.”
“...”
“I brought the wine to feed the Emperor if the time comes. You have it with you.”
Amelia looked straight at Joseph and spoke.
“Alcohol...”
Louis, who was about to reflexively lash out at Amelia, paused. She noticed a faint smile on Joseph's expressionless face.
“When did you see that?”
“I’ve never seen it. I just guessed because you smelled like alcohol.”
Amelia answered indifferently. Joseph chuckled and then brought out a bottle of liquor. He brought three bottles.
“If you keep trying to stir up trouble, I’ll feed you and send you to the pit, but you’ll get sick of it.”
Moreover, the moment he opened the lid, the stench of alcohol hit her nose. It seemed to be quite strong. Louis turned her head away, her face aggravated by disgust.
“Do you know how to drink alcohol?”
“You’ll know once you try it.”
Joseph laughed at Amelia's refreshing answer. He then filled a glass and handed it to Amelia.
“Give it to Louis, too.”
“No, I...”
Louis tried to refuse, but it was of no use. Joseph filled the glass to the brim, just like he had offered Amelia, and handed it to Louis. Louis looked down at the clear liquid with a puzzled expression.
***
Her vision faltered. Amelia forced herself to strain her eyes, roughly rubbing her eyes with her hand. It was the moment she exhaled a breath that carried a strong scent of alcohol. With a thud, Joseph, who had been enjoying his drinks, collapsed onto the table.
“...”
Naturally, Louis, who was weak to alcohol, had already fallen asleep long ago. Amelia felt the alcohol ripple through her body as her tension eased. But she couldn't fall asleep like this. It was pointless to try and get Joseph and Louis to sleep with the poison.
Amelia rose from her seat as cautiously as possible. However, her already drunken body refused to obey, and the sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor irritated her ears. She suddenly came to her senses and looked at Joseph, but he had just fallen and showed no sign of waking up.
“The key...”
Amelia, barely regaining consciousness, stumbled out of the restaurant. According to the diary she'd found, there was only one key that protected the castle's secrets.
To be precise, everyone is mistaken. The key that Duke Russell believes is "the only one" is probably hidden somewhere by Joseph. However, finding the key Joseph had hidden was a risky endeavor.
"There is."
So Amelia returned to her bedroom and, just as she'd written in her diary, found the hidden key in a potted plant, left with only dirt. She then staggered toward the hidden entrance.
As they circled and descended the stairs, the sound of Amelia's drunken groans was not insignificant. Joseph, normally alert and alert, would have surely spotted her. But with only three people left, the castle was silent. The two who had been lulled to sleep by the alcohol had passed out completely.
“...”
And so, undisturbed, Amelia finally stood before the secret door. No, in fact, she still couldn't tell whether what was hidden inside was a secret or not. It was a tale like a ghost story written in someone's diary, and Amelia had come to confirm it.
All that can be known is by opening this door.
Even as she thought that, a sense of hesitation arose. Perhaps it was because she was certain she'd see something uncomfortable if everything she'd read were true. But even so, she couldn't ignore it. Amelia carefully inserted the key into the lock and turned it. With a click, the lock unlocked.
The exposed space was gloomy. Silent and lightless, the pitch-black space beneath the stairs resembled the gaping maw of a beast.
"It's okay."
There was an atmosphere that made it seem like a ghost might appear. But after all, we live every day facing people worse than ghosts. Ghosts weren't all that scary.
Amelia consoled herself like that, picked up the torch hanging on the nearest wall, and began to carefully descend the stairs.
“...”
And finally, they reached the end of the stairs. Amelia reached a point where it felt like the floor, not the stairs, and adjusted her torch. Only then did she take another step.
Then she saw what lay ahead. Dark and dense, the bars obscured my view.
“...Isn’t there any?”
In the pitch-black darkness, it was the only thing discernible by torchlight. She'd clearly said she'd been locked underground. Amelia muttered involuntarily and took another step forward.
"Ah."
At that moment, a group of people huddled together, their bodies pressed against each other like animals nestled against the dense bars to protect themselves from the cold. Amelia stopped walking as soon as she spotted them.
But they trembled, unable to even meet Amelia's gaze, as if they were unbearably afraid of who would come. It was a clear fear. Perhaps that's why they hid in the deepest darkness the moment they sensed any presence.
“...”
Amelia began to cautiously walk toward them. Crackle, crackle. The fire crackled and burned the wood. The wood burned itself, clearing its vision.
"Excuse me."
Amelia opened her mouth. The sound of precious fabric rustling and her soft voice naturally penetrated the ears of those who had been hidden.
"Shhh!"
“...”
“Don’t look. You can’t look. You’ll get caught.”
One of them cautiously raised his head. It was a boy, probably around five or six years old. The woman, who appeared to be the child's mother, hurriedly gathered her child into her arms and hid him. She then curled even tighter, holding the child in her arms, telling him not to look outside.
In that secret space lived a hidden people. They lived solely to ensure that the child she would conceive would have black hair and eyes, a boy with black eyes and black hair. While there were occasionally blondes or brown-haired ones mixed in, most had black hair.
It was exactly as she read in the diary.
To begin with, it would be impossible for a boy or young girl with a different eye color or hair color to remain there indefinitely. A man or a worthless woman without jet-black hair or eyes would be subject to experimentation regardless of age, so it's more accurate to say they couldn't survive in that space.
Could it be an illusion? Amelia squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to clear her hazy, shaky vision.
Father, your decisions are killing your daughter and innocent people.
But everything remained the same as before. Her vision was blurry, and the scene before her eyes changed.
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