"Isn't Father Roshan a *priest*?"
*Oops.*
Judith realized, with sinking dread, that she had made a mistake.
"Well, I maintain quite a few connections across various circles." She attempted a casual smile. "After all, I *am* the Viceroy of the Goddess Gernia."
But it was a weak excuse—laughably transparent. Judith wanted to sink into the ground and vanish. She opened her mouth again, searching desperately for the right words to justify herself, but quickly realized it was futile.
She chose silence instead.
Calix's eyes grew even colder as he watched her awkward attempts to extricate herself from the predicament.
Finally, she resigned herself to the inevitable and decided that attacking first would be her best defense:
"Why does this interest you so greatly?"
Calix's crimson gaze gleamed with predatory intent. He couldn't get the handsome blond man named Roshan out of his mind. And now presented a perfect opportunity to discover his true identity.
The high priest who had appeared at Benvito Castle some time ago to treat Asella had been a rather venerable, gray-haired old man.
But there was *another* man named Roshan—the one Asella had spoken to in the café during her outing with Mariel.
Karma had attempted to track him after he departed the pastry shop, but to no avail. Only fragments of a magical signature had been detected in the area where he was believed to have vanished. During subsequent interrogation, the coachman had confirmed hearing him introduce himself as Roshan.
"So he's a wizard, not a priest?" Calix's voice was dangerously soft. "And if a meeting of the Magic Tower's masters is being held at his request, that would suggest this man possesses considerable magical authority."
Judith swallowed dryly. Calix's reasoning had come perilously close to the truth.
"And what kind of power did he employ?" His voice turned sharp, accusatory. "Didn't I *specifically* request that you send a monk? Yet you dispatched a male *mage*."
The questions poured forth like arrows, the final one delivered through clenched teeth.
Faced with her justifiably furious husband, Judith quickly determined which concern needed to be addressed first.
"Master Roshan is a true monk," she said firmly. "I can assure you of that with absolute certainty."
At these words, the oppressive weight of the prince's aura instantly subsided.
"Can you explain everything properly?" His hawk-like gaze demanded an immediate answer.
Judith rubbed her temples in frustration, trying to recall which form Roshan had taken when he'd visited Benvito Castle. Then she sighed and began her explanation:
"It's exceptionally rare. But a mage can also be a priest—or more precisely, one who possesses magical ability can dedicate themselves to serving the goddess. After sufficient devotion and study, such a person can also acquire sacred power. The simultaneous existence of both magic and divine essence within one individual is uncommon, but possible." She met Calix's eyes steadily. "Asella's mother, Adele Charts, was such a person. Even though the Master declined to accept the position of Lord of the Magic Tower, the council members remain extraordinarily persistent in their deference to him."
"So." Calix's voice was flat, deadly. "The Lord of the Magic Tower has *visited my castle*."
"Not precisely. He managed to resign his position and transfer leadership to a master named Allen." Judith, feeling utterly cornered, swallowed against her dry throat and drained a cup of cold tea in a single desperate gulp.
"In any event, the Master can easily alter his appearance. The young man Asella encountered was also Father Roshan."
"So she *knew* who she was speaking with?"
Calix suddenly felt like a complete fool. *Why hadn't I considered this immediately?* His wife was rather timid by nature—not the type to chat naturally with strangers. *If I'd simply asked her directly, she likely would have answered. I wouldn't have needed to investigate in circles.*
"But why did His Highness require both myself and the Lord of the Magic Tower?"
Calix interrupted his self-recriminating thoughts and looked grimly at Judith:
"It concerns my wife's nightmares."
"Nightmares?"
"I don't know the cause. But she's constantly tormented by them. And it troubles me... greatly."
Judith watched the man's fists clench as he spoke—knuckles going white with tension.
"Will you be able to help Asella eliminate this suffering and finally find peace?"
"And the Grand Duchess also suffers from memory disturbances."
"Memory?" Judith's face shifted to one of deep concern. "What kind of disturbances, specifically?"
Just as Calix opened his mouth to elaborate—
"Your Highness!"
The door burst open. Margot rushed into the office, her face pale as chalk.
"Your Highness! It's Her Highness—"
"*Asella?!*"
Calix was on his feet instantly.
---
## — The Nightmare Unveiled —
Asella found herself watching a familiar child in her dream.
A girl with silver hair and vibrant blue eyes.
It was herself.
*That dream again...*
She was walking through the garden once more—the inevitable beginning of the same recurring nightmare. The only difference was that now she seemed to be observing everything from outside her own body, watching the scene unfold as though she were a ghost haunting her own past.
The sleeping girl's hands gripped the bedsheet with desperate strength.
*I don't want to see this anymore. I want to wake up.*
The sight of her dying mother always evoked feelings of guilt twisted together with helpless despair. And yet, paradoxically, she was happy—*grateful*—to see the beloved face she missed so terribly.
The little girl shuddered. Tears streamed down her small face. She turned and ran.
Asella watched her younger self flee, following as though tethered by invisible threads. It wasn't difficult—the child's steps were so tiny, so desperate. But Asella felt every ounce of the pain the girl was experiencing, as vividly as if it were her own.
Suddenly, the child stopped running.
It was the place.
The very spot where she had once found Adele bleeding her life away onto the garden stones.
Asella felt tears carving hot trails down her own cheeks as she watched the child cry piteously over her dying mother. She was consumed by a cruel sense of helplessness—trapped in a moment where nothing could be changed, where history was already written in blood.
A child's sobs. The death rattle of a dying woman.
Asella couldn't bear to watch any longer. She lowered her gaze—
*"Ah...sella... beware of the Emperor... kha...Fernand...do... Fer..n..do... beware..."*
*What?*
Asella's entire body went rigid.
The child, who had been desperately clutching her mother's bloodstained hand, froze as well. The girl's blue eyes stared in shock into the dying woman's face.
*"Cough... you mustn't... tell... anyone... take care of Mariel... that's the only way... you can... survive if Mariel... and you... are alive. Promise me... that you two will survive..."*
The child, paralyzed with bewilderment, only regained her senses when a black button materialized in her small palm. With trembling fingers, she removed the locket from around her neck. The secret clasp—which would yield to no hand but its owner's—opened at her touch. She inserted the button and closed the lid.
It merged instantly with the surrounding surface, becoming indistinguishable from the rest of the beautiful, solid piece of jewelry. No one would ever suspect it concealed a secret.
*"My daughter... I'm so sorry... I've placed this... burden upon you. Please forgive your mother... who can no longer... do... anything... for... you."*
With the last remnants of her strength, the woman raised her blood-slicked hand and stroked the girl's tear-stained cheek.
Then her arm fell.
Adele began coughing—violent, wet sounds—blood spilling from her lips.
*"Don't forget... The Emperor... He is your enemy..."*
The bloodied hand dropped lifelessly to the ground.
Asella's heart seemed to stop beating. This moment—*this* precise instant—was the most agonizing part of her nightmare. She had never grown accustomed to it. Would never grow accustomed to it.
The child stared at her dead mother with numb disbelief.
*"Mama! Mama!"*
Asella's legs buckled beneath her from the force of the shock. She barely managed to clutch at a nearby tree for support, fighting to draw breath. But her mind was in complete disarray, her vision spinning.
"What are you doing here?"
A dark voice cut through the air from somewhere above.
Asella looked up to find a man looming over her, his grey eyes cold and pitiless as winter stone.
She recognized him instantly.
Her breath caught.
*That man!*
Such a familiar face—impossible not to recognize.
The master and ruler of the Garmanian Empire.
**His Majesty the Emperor.**
He appeared somewhat younger than his present self, but unmistakably the same. The man approached the corpse and the inconsolable child weeping beside her murdered mother.
The girl's face drained of all color when she realized who stood before her. Apparently, she remembered her mother's dying warning all too well.
The Emperor bent over the body, his eyes gleaming with something carnivorous and satisfied. His lips curled into a venomous smile as he confirmed that Adele was truly gone.
Then he straightened and extended his hand toward the child—his expression shifting to one of benevolent concern.
"What a tragedy. Your mother has died. Come to me, child."
The girl shuddered and stumbled backward. She watched him with wary, horrified eyes.
"What a clever little thing you are." His smile widened. "What did your mother say to you before she closed her eyes?"
It became instantly clear to Asella that the child was in grave danger.
She gathered what remained of her strength and rushed toward them—desperate to reach the girl, to pull her away, to *save* her—
After only a few steps, Asella collided with an invisible barrier.
Something prevented her from advancing. She could see and hear everything with perfect clarity, but she couldn't take a single step in their direction.
*Asella!*
She screamed desperately. But neither the girl nor the man seemed to notice her presence at all.
Now she could only watch helplessly from the sidelines, without any possibility of intervention.
"What did Adele tell you?" the Emperor asked in honeyed tones.
Asella pressed both hands over her mouth to stifle a scream. The child before her was choking on sobs, trembling so violently it seemed she might collapse.
Fernando suddenly burst into laughter—loud, cruel, triumphant.
"Although what could a little girl possibly remember, when her mind has long been under *my* control?"
He laughed for some time, standing beside the body of the murdered woman and her grief-stricken child.
Then, abruptly, his face turned cold as carved ice.
"Stop crying. It's irritating."
Fernando seized the struggling child by the arm and yanked her with such force that she lost her balance entirely and fell face-first onto the ground.
"*Ow!*" The girl's face contorted in pain. She had clearly been badly hurt. Slowly, biting her lip to stifle further sobs, she raised her head and tried to wipe away the tears with a small, trembling fist.
In that instant, her entire body was enveloped in disgusting black smoke.
The girl recoiled in terror, trying desperately to pull away.
But it was too late.
The smoke wrapped around her like rope—binding her arms, her legs, coiling around her torso with suffocating tightness.
*Let me go!*
The child's body thrashed in a futile attempt to escape. But the smoke had already invaded her nose and mouth, pouring into her lungs. The girl was losing strength with terrifying speed.
Soon her struggles ceased. Her body went limp. Her gaze became utterly unfocused—empty, glassy, lost.
This spectacle apparently brought Fernando genuine pleasure. He smiled like a predator savoring its kill:
"Remember this well, girl."
His voice dropped to a silken whisper.
"**The one who killed your mother... is Calix Benvito.**"
---