“Ian’s connection to the royal family has been raised?”

Philea’s eyes went round, wondering what on earth that could mean. Soon came laughter she couldn’t help—incredulous laughter from absurdity. Confusion and bewilderment coexisted quite clearly.

Beric watched this while grabbing a handful of sugar cookies. From her reaction, it was indeed just a baseless rumor.

“It’s not true, right?”

“I don’t know why such talk would come up.”

“Probably because Ian is too outstanding.”

“Ian doesn’t have blue eyes but green ones, and most importantly, he looks exactly like me. Before going to the Great Desert as part of a peace agreement, Dergha had Ian’s bloodline tested. I remember him saying he needed imperial approval regarding the family registration.”

“Really? That fat old man prepared a lot.”

“Of course. He was that thorough. At first, I hid Ian tightly. I said he wasn’t Dergha’s child, so that someone probably had heard that somewhere.”

“Where’s that bloodline test?”

“The Cheonrye tribe in the Great Desert should be keeping it. I should let Lord Nersarn know. Since it only reacts to family of the same blood, if I’m tested too, doubts about bloodline would disappear.”

“Hmm. No, not really? I don’t think you and Ian need to do it. Your appearances guarantee it. The problem Sir Romandro is worried about is…”

Crunch crunch. Beric muttered while chewing sugar cookies melting on his tongue.

“You, Lady Philea.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Since Dergha is nobility, he’s certain about bloodline, but what if it turns out Lady Philea’s parents or ancestors were royal family?”

“Nonsense.”

Philea wiggled her eyebrows and asked if he was serious. Though practically an orphan, she clearly remembered her parents.

The parents who stroked her white, soft cheeks and always sighed with worry. The parents who said it was better to live like the wind when you had nothing, as if you existed yet didn’t, and apologized for leaving her with golden hair.

In midwinter, her father went out looking for food and never returned, and the following spring, her own mother fell into the melted lake and drowned. Most of Philea’s life after that was alone, but those childhood memories remained vivid in her heart.

“That can’t be.”

“Then that’s settled. Sir Romandro said to maintain daily life but not be too surprised if anything happens.”

Beric got up after finishing all the remaining cookies.

“That bloodline record thing should be left in the imperial palace. I’ll pass that along. Keep your belly warm and take care.”

“Wait, can’t I come along too?”

“Huh? I just told you, didn’t I? Maintain your current daily life.”

“I want to see Ian. Having this happen right after returning from the battlefield seems too harsh for the child. Though the imperial palace is originally such a place… I want to hug Ian like I hugged Beric.”

When tears welled up in Philea’s eyes, Beric stepped back with an ‘ugh’ sound. Then he quickly checked around to make sure Nersarn wasn’t watching.

As far as Beric knew, nothing in the world was more troublesome and powerful than Philea’s tears. They could melt that Nersarn and that Ian like sugar. How could he dare go against them?

Beric scratched his head frantically and wandered around in confusion.

“No, I really can’t.”

“I just need to see his face briefly and come back. Beric.”

“Ian is super busy.”

“Just seeing him from a distance would be fine. When a son has endured death and returned, how can his mother just sit still?”

“…If Sir Romandro says anything, I’ll say Lady Philea insisted.”

“Of course. It’s all because I pestered Beric.”

“Get your coat. Let’s go.”

“Thank you.”

Smooch! Philea planted a thank-you kiss on Beric’s cheek and moved quickly. Just as she was about to go upstairs.

Crash!

“Kyaaa! My lady!”

Bang crash! Boom!

Minnie’s scream came from the inner room. Startled, Philea quickly turned her body, and Beric reflexively grabbed his sword and rushed inside. The same went for Nersarn and the Cheonrye warriors training in the back yard. Everyone reacted alertly to Minnie’s small scream. This estate had to be safer than anywhere else.

“What’s wrong? Why?!”

“Beric!”

Philea, who first grasped the inner situation, turned and blocked Beric’s path. Viviana’s groaning continued to be heard.

“Don’t come inside, there—midwife. We need a midwife.”

“…What’s that?”

“The baby is coming, so we need someone to help. There’s a grandmother next door who was a midwife. Lord Nersarn!”

“Right, Philea! I’ll go!”

“We should notify Sir Romandro too.”

“Wasn’t Beric going to enter the palace? Hurry in and bring Sir Romandro. Quickly!”

Unlike Beric, who stood there dumbfounded in surprise, the warriors moved quite flexibly. All the tribe’s children were born this way.

Beric looked at Philea at the warriors’ urging.

“Lady Philea! Weren’t you going to see Ian?”

“How can I leave Lady Viviana like this? When Sir Romandro comes and returns to the palace, I’ll go with him. Beric! Hurry and tell Sir Romandro! As fast as possible!”

“Ah, uh, really. What is all this?”

Beric shook his head vigorously and ran toward the carriage. The coachman, who had been dozing peacefully, noticed the commotion inside the estate and wiped the drool from his mouth.

Beric climbed up immediately and opened the window toward the coachman, shaking his collar vigorously.

“Run! Baby’s coming!”

“Ba-baby?”

“Hurry!”

“Ah, yes yes. Understood.”

Neigh!

Clop clop clop!

The carriage hurriedly turned the corner and disappeared, and soon the warriors rushed into the estate carrying an old woman on their backs.

***

“I-Ian.”

Romandro approached Ian with slightly trembling hands.

Damon’s hair clutched in his hands. Sticky blood was pouring endlessly, so it wouldn’t seem strange if he died soon.

But Ian shook his head and blocked Romandro’s approach.

“Don’t come.”

“I-Ian. Why are you like this? Huh? King Damon is still officially the king of Burgos and an important hostage for negotiations with the opposing country. Most importantly, he needs to stand as a witness at the upcoming grand council, but what if you turn him into a bloody mess like that?”

There must have been some problem during the interrogation process. Whether intentional or not, Ian taking such a stance meant he would inevitably be implicated in responsibility.

The secretaries hugged their written documents tightly to their chests and stood firmly against the wall. From their pale, shocked faces unable to say anything, the shock must have been tremendous.

“Ian. First, let go of that hair. Huh? The mages will come down soon, and you can’t show them such a sight. Secretaries, please calm down for a moment and breathe. I don’t know what happened, but—”

“Lord Ian did it!”

“Wh-what?”

“When King Damon tried to say something, he suddenly got up and pounced on him! An explosion went off at the same time, so isn’t this Lord Ian using magic?”

The secretaries huddled together shoulder to shoulder and shouted as if protesting. Ian just stood there silently at their appearance, looking around the floor as if searching for something.

“No, don’t you know our Ian? He’s not one to act emotionally. There seems to be some misunderstanding—”

“You weren’t here. How can you make such hasty judgments when you didn’t see? We, we all saw it!”

“Yes! Lord Ian, th-this will be reported to the imperial family before being recorded. When asked about King Damon’s condition at the grand council, we will tell exactly what we saw and experienced without omission.”

The secretaries raised their voices and shouted at Ian. Then they tried to quickly back out of the basement.

But Romandro blocked their path. He spoke loudly enough for the mages waiting outside to hear.

“Hey! If you leave like this, what happens to our minister’s reputation? Isn’t it proper to share detailed information and resolve any misunderstandings? Sorry to the secretaries, but you cannot leave here before I understand the situation. The mages outside won’t allow it either!”

“Wh-what…! Hah!”

“Right? Huh? Outside! Can you hear?”

Then Ian put down the unconscious Damon’s head on the floor and approached the secretaries. They flinched and hunched their shoulders.

Ian slowly bent down with a calm face. In the thick smoke, he picked something up.

“…Ian, what is that…”

“Call a healing mage and a doctor.”

“Gasp!”

It was a tongue fragment. Romandro threw himself toward the secretaries in shock, and they looked at Ian while embracing each other. Fear, terror, and surprise were evident.

“The bleeding will be severe. Sir Romandro.”

“Ah, ah! Th-“

“I didn’t do it.”

Thud.

Ian lightly threw the tongue fragment onto the table and took out a handkerchief. There was an unknown pattern drawn on the back of the tongue. Romandro, who had shared joys and sorrows with mages, realized it resembled a magic circle.

“He was hiding a magic circle. A device that explodes when certain content is mentioned. The same context as my reaction to the Idgal pendant.”

“Wh-what? Then this is Damon’s tongue?”

“Isn’t it better to give flesh than to give bone?”

It was an instant. The moment Damon tried to answer Ian’s question, strange magical power was felt.

Ian reflexively grabbed Damon’s face to counter the explosion, and instead of his entire head flying off, Damon could preserve his life at the cost of part of his tongue.

Ian looked down quietly at Damon’s shoulder as he lay twitching on the floor.

“Wh-what question did you ask for that to happen? A magic spell being involved means a mage is connected.”

“Rutherford has everyone by his side.”

The fact that he had left child bastard Ian bound only by contract magic meant he didn’t immediately need a mage’s power at the time. In other words, there were mages under his command who could be used immediately. If there were then, there would be now too.

“So what question did you ask?”

“…King Damon said before that Rutherford was someone who communicated with gods to coordinate the world. So I was curious.”

What exactly had he done for King Damon to speak of Rutherford like that?

Damon was arrogant, proud, and royal to his bones. Moreover, wasn’t he someone living his second life? For such a person to speak of Rutherford that way was naturally curious.

“Generally, those connected to gods harbor mysterious powers, so I asked if Rutherford might be a mage. He answered well that no, he wasn’t.”

“He answered well? Then why did that happen?”

“He pondered quite a long time about whether he ‘had been a mage.'”

At Ian’s words, Romandro frowned. He couldn’t understand what it meant at all.

“Though it wasn’t in King Damon’s voice, I think I clearly heard the answer. Rutherford is someone who ‘was a mage.'”