While bestowing a name for the founder was at the will of the head of the family, revoking it was not something they could do at will. It was of no use regretting later that the founder's name had been given as a middle name. Once given, a name could not be changed unless the person died. That is why naming a founder required the utmost caution.
Of course, even if one had the founder's name as a middle name, it would be all for nothing if they lacked the power to wield the rights associated with that name, but I had enough power to exercise the rights to my name.
The head of the Pison Count family was currently absent. Since my maternal grandfather's death, all rights to the Count's estate were practically mine. Although it was slightly different from the truth, it was better for them to believe that.
"What does the name matter...?"
“Shut up.”
Recently, hardly anyone used the founder's name as a middle name. This was inevitable, as no head of a family would easily pass on a name to a successor that could overturn even their own will. Perhaps for this reason, many young nobles were unaware of the rights associated with the founder's name. Most of them were newly emerging nobles from humble backgrounds or those who had been negligent in their studies.
Marquis Moyton naturally belonged to the latter group, and he wore an aggrieved expression at the First Consort's angry shout.
"Your..."
"I told you to shut up, Marquis Moyton"
Marquis Moyton flinched at the First Consort's chilling shout and quickly shut his mouth. The First Consort's chilling gaze passed by Marquis Moyton and landed on me.
"I am fully aware that the young lady is the de facto owner of the merchant guild. However, even if that is the case, surely that cannot serve as an explanation for your inappropriate relationship with that man."
The First Consort, having regained her composure before I knew it, tenaciously pressed on. As I had already anticipated this, I calmly retorted.
"What kind of relationship is the inappropriate relationship that Your Highness the Consort is speaking of?"
At my audacious question, several nobles blushed and cleared their throats. Unlike the flustered nobles, the Consort looked at me without changing her expression at all.
"I heard that Your Highness the Consort certified her virginity before entering the palace. Do I also have to prove my virginity right here and now to prove my innocence for you to believe me?"
The corners of the First Consort's mouth trembled at my sarcastic remark.
Virginity verification was a method of determining virginity in which the fresh blood of a parrot was dropped onto the wrist; if it stained the wrist, it was judged to be a virgin; otherwise, it was judged not to be. Although it was a custom that was neither scientific nor practically effective in determining virginity, it was a method routinely used to verify virginity until 30 years ago.
It was the First Consort, trembling with rage before me, who abolished that custom that had been practiced since ancient times. She, too, had been certified as a virgin before entering the palace, but whether by coincidence or fate, the parrot's fresh blood flowed down her wrist without staining it.
That incident later became evidence supporting the rumor that the First Prince was not the Emperor's child, and the First Consort abolished the custom as soon as she seized power. Of course, some practiced it secretly and tacitly, but in any case, the certification of virginity was effectively gone officially.
"Since Young Lady goes so far as to say that, I guess I have no choice but to believe you."
"Thank you, First Consort."
I bowed my head slightly toward her and smiled faintly. Most of the nobles present were heads of a single clan. This meant that the majority of the people here remembered the events of that time. The Empress glared at me and bit her lip, as if feeling humiliated.
I turned away from the First Consort and approached Evan. Noticing my intention, Evan raised his clenched right arm and brought it to his heart. It was a knightly gesture that only knights with a master could perform.
The nobles who had been watching Evan's actions glared at me in disbelief. I turned around to look at them as if mocking them.
My intention was clear. He is my knight, so cast aside such filthy fantasies in your head. If you still view his relationship with me as inappropriate, then you and those who swore a knight's oath to you are also in an inappropriate relationship.
As I intended, no one dared to speak rashly. I turned my gaze to the nanny, who was still glaring at me with a distorted face. It was time to end my relationship with her.
At my signal, Evan took a book from his bosom. It was a book similar to the one the nanny had claimed was the Marchioness's diary. A waiting servant quickly approached and took the book from Evan.
"This is my mother's diary that was left at the Pison Count's estate. Would you like to compare it with the one the nanny claimed was my mother's diary?"
The Emperor accepted the diary handed to him by his attendant. For a while, only the sound of turning pages could be heard in the conference room.
“How are you feeling?”
"Both books use the same handwriting."
"This is because both books are my mother's diaries."
"Didn't you say earlier that it wasn't a diary?"
I nodded at the Emperor's sharp question.
"What the nanny presented as evidence is indeed a diary written by Mother herself. However, it cannot be said to be a diary written solely by Mother."
I had known for a long time that the Marchioness had kept a diary since her maiden days. At that time, the nanny read the Marchioness's diary to me personally, word by word, and said, "The Marchioness's death is entirely the fault of the Marquis and Landt. Look here at the diary of the Marchioness, who died pitifully resenting them." Perhaps the reason I hated and resented my father and Landt's so much back then was because of those words from the nanny, which were close to brainwashing.
The Marchioness's diary, which I saw at that time, was a chaotic mess, unlike its neat handwriting. There were many blank pages here and there, and the order of the dates was jumbled. She had a habit of writing in her diary as thoughts came to mind on the page opened each day. There were days when she wrote about the events of the day exactly as they happened, and days when she wrote about dreams or wild delusions.
However, the diary the nanny presented as evidence was different from the one I saw back then; the events were listed in chronological order, as if intentionally trying to reveal a certain fact.
"As Your Majesty can see, the handwriting in the two diaries is indeed that of the same person, but the writing styles are worlds apart."
The Emperor nodded. At a glance, the two diaries looked completely different, as if they had been written by different people.
"This is because someone commissioned by the nanny imitated the handwriting and added content to my mother's diary."
The reason I even staged a play using the injured Evan was partly to make the cautious First Consort trust me and bring this matter to public attention, but also to turn their hand over to my advantage.
They tried to manipulate Evan, who felt betrayed by me, to use his abilities, and Evan pretended to obediently follow their will under the pretext of taking revenge on me. Playing the role of a man blinded by revenge, Evan conveyed every detail of their plan to me.
I caught my breath for a moment and opened and closed my eyes. Everyone's eyes were on me.
"Would you like to bring the candle closer to the part with the writing?"
At the Emperor's gesture, a waiting attendant placed the candle he was holding in front of him. The Emperor brought the diary close to the flickering red candlelight. The diary was merely slightly scorched by the heat; there was no change whatsoever. The Emperor turned to look at me in puzzlement.
"Try doing the same with the other diaries, Your Majesty."
The Emperor picked up another diary. It was the diary the nanny had presented as evidence. Unlike the diary that had remained unchanged, as soon as the heat of the candle touched it, the black writing began to turn red in places.
"This is because we used ink developed by Pison's top team. Normally, it appears as a faded black, as if it were written a long time ago, but it turns red when heat is applied."
Exclamations of surprise were heard from here and there. I turned to look at Evan, and he took a small bottle containing a black liquid from his bosom. I gestured to call a servant and took the bottle from Evan.
"This liquid is the ink used in the diary."
A servant, acting on the Emperor's orders, took ink from me, wrote on a piece of paper, and held it to a candlelight. The faded black, appearing as if the writing was from long ago, instantly turned red.
"That diary is proof that the nanny—no, that woman—told a lie."
The nanny's face contorted hideously. She screamed at me as if in agony.
"Even if that diary is fake, it does not make the fact that the young lady was born from the Marchioness's affair false!"
I turned away from the nanny and looked at the First Consort. She, who had briefly shown signs of being shaken by my counterattack, had already hidden her emotions and was sitting with a composed demeanor.
In fact, from the First Consort's perspective, she had nothing to lose even if the nanny's words turned out to be false. The mere fact that the issue of my birth had been officially raised was practically enough to achieve the First Consort's goal.
Things were different now compared to then. Back then, even if people whispered and criticized in the shadows, no one could bring the issue of my birth into public discourse. This was not only because there was no evidence to cling to like there is now, but also because the Emperor acted swiftly, arranging the wedding simultaneously with the coming-of-age ceremony and giving the First Consort no time to prepare.
Now that the issue of my birth has become a public matter, if I cannot accurately reveal the truth about my birth here, not only will I have to break off my engagement with Sis, but I will also have to live with the label of being an illegitimate child for the rest of my life.
The Empress was someone who would tenaciously cling to even the smallest pretext to tarnish the reputation of Crown Prince Sis. For she would absolutely not miss this opportunity.
"I can never hide the truth, if only for the sake of the Marchioness who committed suicide after suffering from guilt her entire life."
At the nanny's shout, my lips curled up involuntarily. I had no intention of blaming the dead woman, but I couldn't help but let out a laugh.
I could say that I knew the Marchioness better than anyone. Just like the saying "like mother, like daughter," I inherited my mother's beauty.
After all, the me back then, obsessed with her and Siss, resembled her like a twin. Until now, it has been so...
As I knew, the Marchioness might have taken her own life. However, even if it was true that she committed suicide, I was certain that it was never due to guilt. Until her death, she lashed out at me and resented that I was not a boy.
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