The royal physician who examined the king cautiously suggested that the problem might not be physical but mental.
If an evil spirit had possessed the king, it would require treatment beyond the realm of medicine, so he secretly summoned Boren.
I thought he knew how to keep things quiet without special instructions.
Why did he reveal the king’s condition to Martin?
Are the two that close to share secrets?
“Is His Majesty all right?” Martin asked.
“We are employing every possible method for a swift recovery,” Kalian replied.
He was more concerned about Martin’s intelligence gathering than his father’s condition.
Martin Skalson, who had distinguished himself in the Sun War, had left the court after the war ended.
“Since your departure from the palace, I know you have served His Majesty as his eyes and ears. What news did you bring this time?”
“You are mistaken, Your Highness. I live by soothing the world wounded by the sword with stories. My life is now far from the court.”
Kalian wanted to believe that.
But the troupe was a disguise, wandering the continent acting as the king’s spies.
It was an open secret that traveling merchants and minstrels bought and sold secrets.
How much more so for a large troupe, especially one led by a man who had once served the king closely.
Didn’t the woman who helped Kiabel escape say her father was under the king’s patronage?
The king would not hand out gold coins just to watch trivial plays.
Martin Skalson, your daughter tried to change the next heir to the throne.
Who do you take me for, playing such shallow tricks?
Kalian knew that when Kiabel was held hostage in Verden, the Skalson troupe had performed at Verden Castle on the king’s secret orders.
The play must have been the medium for contact with Kiabel.
Lines that held meaning for only one person rang out in front of countless others.
To carry out such acts and still pretend to be innocent…
He must not yet know what fate his daughter faces.
Kalian inwardly smirked but decided to play along with Martin’s act.
There were more urgent matters than exposing the troupe leader’s identity right now.
“Did His Majesty say anything special?”
“He gave advice on the play to be presented at the feast.”
What kind of play had the king requested?
What message did he want to convey to the vassals through Martin Skalson this time?
“Did he give you anything?”
“A new cloak. The one I had before was badly worn by wind and rain.”
A cloak hung on the wall in the corner.
Simple, without any patterns or decoration, but Kalian was troubled by its color — as if stained with blood.
Red was the mark of a warrior.
Surely, Martin Skalson was more than a mere storyteller to the king.
“What are you curious about, Your Highness?”
“I have not found the king’s seal. Do you know its whereabouts?”
“I am but a mere storyteller. I have no connection to such noble items.”
If he was lying, Martin Skalson was a superb actor. He showed no signs of fluster or hesitation.
Let it be for now.
If he had anything to squeeze out, he would have already said it. It’s better to pretend to believe and watch closely.
Kalian suppressed his impatience and said, “Recover quickly. I also have a story I want to commission.”
‘Your daughter has become Blayden Rehat’s slave. By now, she’s probably being trampled. When the time is right, I will give you a sword. Use it to stab Blayden. The story I want to commission is one of revenge.’
Catching Blayden, a friend of his father’s, must be an unexpected pleasure.
A cold smile flickered at the corner of Kalian’s mouth.
Martin bowed his head and looked down at the floor before speaking.
“But, Your Highness…”
Kalian paused as he turned to leave.
“To be recognized as the heir of Ekilium, one more thing is needed besides the king’s seal. Do you know what it is?”
He knew what it was.
He just didn’t know where that item was.
The brief sadistic thrill he had just felt vanished.
Kalian swallowed the bitter saliva gathering in his mouth and left the room.
Outside the temple, the guards waited for Kalian.
Boren escorted him as he left the garden under the bright moonlight.
After walking for a while, Kalian gave an order.
“Only those who can communicate with spirits may stay in the temple. Move Sir Skalson elsewhere.”
No reply came.
Kalian stopped and looked back at Boren.
Could Martin Skalson really have the rumored ability to communicate with spirits?
Kalian was increasingly troubled by Skalson’s existence but still wanted to use him.
“Skalson has entered His Majesty’s chambers. Since he may have caused His Majesty’s collapse, interrogation is necessary.”
They needed to corner Skalson first.
Only then would threats or persuasion work, and it would be easier to manipulate him according to their convenience.
But Boren did not comply obediently.
“Your Highness.”
Even after clasping his hands and bowing, Boren remained silent for a moment.
“If you have other thoughts, speak.”
“Your Highness, do you know why I, who managed the royal temple when His Majesty conquered Kiabek, was spared?”
“Because you took good care of someone precious to His Majesty.”
“Sir Skalson now is the same as I was back then.”
Kalian frowned.
“Sir Skalson was kind to someone precious to Your Highness. Now it is time for you to consider Sir Skalson. Show mercy so he can recover his strength in a comfortable place.”
If he is someone precious to him—
“Could you mean my mother?”
“Yes.”
Breaking through the moonlight, a flickering vision appeared, and Kalian gritted his teeth.
Even after all these years, the longing still boiled within his chest.
“Do not treat Sir Skalson like a criminal. If you are displeased with him being in the temple, I can recommend another place.”
Unexpected words came from Boren’s mouth.
“Why that place?”
“Because we can take care of Your Highness using Sir Skalson’s body.”
“Take care? Explain in detail.”
Boren gestured to the guards.
After Kalian ordered the guards to stand back, Boren spoke.
As Kalian listened to Boren’s explanation, he got goosebumps, then his eyes brightened.
“A clever plan. Move Martin Skalson there. And bring His Majesty along as well.”
Kalian approved Boren’s plan and left the Quiesa garden.
On the way to his chambers, he summoned his attendants.
“Inform Administrator Athenak. Convene a council meeting at dawn.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Tell all nobles residing in the castle they must attend.”
***
Shapiro Market, a lively daytime space under the sun, transformed into a pleasure district under the moonlight.
Most shops were closed, but on the outskirts, a tavern occupying a two-story building was brightly lit and thriving.
With the war over, a festival celebrating peace had begun.
Those who sought excitement from bloodshed now sought it in drink, mingling under one roof with those who had profited handsomely from the war.
A middle-aged man with a flushed face stumbled out of the tavern and looked around the street.
“Hakan!”
Among the drunken passersby, the servant was nowhere to be seen.
That guy—he was told to fetch the carriage, but where had he disappeared to?
Even though he collected his salary punctually, his work was never satisfactory.
People who had been drinking with him came over and patted his shoulder.
“Hey, Tumeron. The moonlight’s nice; why not walk?”
“Yeah. Got a young bride now, gotta take care of myself.”
The man called Tumeron leaned back his shoulders and patted his protruding belly.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if this belly got a little flatter to seat a pretty lady?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Laughter burst out.
Ignoring his companions’ lewd jokes, Tumeron stepped into the street.
The scenery was blurred in his hazy mind, but his mood was great.
A week ago, he had bought a poor noble’s young daughter from the fallen Kiabek and took her as his wife.
Like a finely crafted porcelain doll, she ignited a blazing fire when unveiled.
He was lucky.
Yeah, this is how you spend money.
To celebrate the marriage, he even treated the guild members to drinks.
Now, off to the house to spend another night burning away.
Though he was merely a candle seller, his son would inherit noble blood.
That child would mingle with the noble elites in the palace, not in a shabby tavern.
Lost in sweet fantasies and staggering, he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings.
He thought he was walking toward the shops but stood in a dark, narrow alley.
“Damn it!”
Annoyed, Tumeron spat on the ground.
This was all because of Hakan.
If only he had quickly summoned the carriage, he’d be home by now.
As he spat again, a dark shadow slid before him.
“What?”
Before he could say more, his words were cut off.
A sharp dagger silently slashed his throat.
“Gah!”
Tumeron clutched his neck and collapsed to the ground.
A gloved hand snatched a thick coin pouch from his waist.
A fresh scent of herbs filled the darkness.
Leni lifted her heavy eyelids.
As she stretched her stiff body, she felt the soft touch of a cloth in her hand—not her rough blanket.
Her hair stood on end, and her body jolted upright.
The whirlwind of events since meeting King Tigrinu flashed through her mind.
She had nearly died.
The princess had been beheaded, her father’s whereabouts were unknown, and she had become the slave of the Red Wolf.
Her head throbbed.
Leni groaned and rubbed her forehead.
Surely there was something in the strawberry tea—otherwise, losing consciousness so suddenly made no sense.
She was alive, so it probably wasn’t poisonous.
But why did the Red Wolf put her to sleep?
Leni checked her arms and legs.
Though she felt weak, she didn’t seem injured.
That was at least some relief.
Another relief was that she was alone in the bed.
Where was the Red Wolf?
The room was quiet.
She held her breath and listened closely, but there was no sign of anyone.
Relying on the moonlight streaming through the window, Leni got out of bed.
Rising onto her toes, she tiptoed to the door.
Carefully opening the heavy door, she peeked through the crack and saw two armored guards with spears at the end of the corridor.