Erissa continued. “I-I was just worried that if your trips got exposed, then it’d only fan the flames of that woman's claims, and my lady’d fall into trouble. You’ve visited that town, and she says her friend from that same town is killed. I didn't want this to fall on Sir Benjamin’s ears.”

  “...Why the caution towards him?” Vivia asked slowly.

  “He’s the Captain-General in the Royal Army, so naturally he reports to His Highness and His Majesty. His loyalty lies towards them, and if he had heard this then…”

  It would’ve fallen upon Elvin's ears, and he would’ve easily used this against a sister he isn't so fond of, she joined the dots.

  Erissa urged. “That's why I’m concerned, Princess. Please forgive my audacity, but I think my lady shouldn’t have declared to investigate that friend’s death. Your trips are at a risk of being revealed, and everyone would only unnecessarily drag you into this despite your innocence. But it's not late. My lady can simply keep quiet about this. Nobody will believe that woman anyway.”

  “No,” Vivia sternly raised her voice, making her jolt.

  “I’ll not bury this matter. It's a grave accusation against me after all, against the royal princess. If there’s a misunderstanding, then I want it resolved. If there’s a death…” she breathed shakily, her life as Vivia flashing past her, “Then I want it investigated. A woman has been unjustly killed…”

  Tears threatened to escape her eyes, recalling her once carefree past life. Now as she looked at her hands, invisible shackles bound her wrists. Her feet would dance like a free bird once upon a time, but now they could only be caged within the confines of a royal palace.

  Erissa fell to her knees. “Please forgive me, Princess! I was simply concerned for your well-being. My lady is…already not favored in the palace.”

  That truth now practically blinded her eyes. The blatant bitterness against Clairette resounded across all the walls. The revelation about her secret trips to Stras coupled with Audreya’s testimony would serve as the golden chance for Elvin to take his revenge, especially now when she had slapped and humiliated him. She clenched her fists in silence.

  But I’ll do this. This is the only way I can find my killer and prove Clairette innocent too. This was always my fight, and I won't back down from this.

  Not now. Not ever.

  —

  A similar despondent atmosphere circled around Rudaheim's palace. Malphas's funeral was in procession, bringing forth an eerie silence.

  Zerath stepped forward and paid his respects to Malphas's body that was now laid in a black casket. As a mark of their tradition, he unsheathed his sword and made a cut across his palm. Blood trickled down on the grass, staining it crimson. Nefarion and Veloria then followed, who gave a short speech to honor Malphas’s contributions as one of the esteemed Orders.

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  The heart-wrenching cries of Malphas's wife, who could barely believe the death of her husband, resounded across the funeral procession. Zerath walked to her side, providing gentle words of comfort.

  “His death shall not go in vain. I’ll find that perpetrator and bring him to justice.”

  The wife broke down further and could only accept her widowed fate in resignation. It only propelled his guilt further.

  Zerath knew that he was committing a grave offense by keeping Malphas's last words to himself - the last words that clearly blamed a human for his death. Yet despite knowing the consequences he might face, he couldn't find the courage to reveal it.

  I need more information and evidence, he firmly believed.

  And now his firm belief was beginning to see Astaroth in a suspicious light, who strangely seemed pleased with Malphas's death. He might fool others with the act of his grief, but the evil satisfaction in his eyes was unmistakable. He had already witnessed Astaroth’s aggressiveness and readiness to kill Vivia, so was it possible that he had something to do with Malphas's death too?

  Zerath tilted his head.

  They were already colluding together, and after the court trial, things might’ve gotten ugly between them. Especially when cousin Astaroth has to depart for Nethermoor soon.

  Lucian approached him and said, “My lord. Captain Valtor is here.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Bring him to my office. We've got some things to discuss.”

  —

  “Astaroth!”

  Balam chased after his son, who had hurriedly left the funeral. He rushed and grabbed his arm, a streak of fury in his eyes.

  “You cannot leave the funeral like that, Astaroth! Not in His Majesty’s presence!”

  Astaroth threw a nasty glare. “It doesn't matter anymore, Father. I’m already stripped of my title and forced to spend a year in that loathsome town! Why should I care what His Majesty would think of me?”

  “You fool! As if I’d let you be in Nethermoor for an entire year. Naturally, Xeraphine and I’ll do everything we can to bring you back along with your title. We simply need some time, and until then, you need to show remorse and responsibility to curry His Majesty’s sympathy. So come back.”

  “No.”

  “You-!”

  He sneered. “I’m not interested in that arrogant Malphas’s funeral.”

  “Sshh!!” Horrified, Balam urged him to be quiet. “Control the words you spout from your mouth! If anyone heard you talking disrespectfully about Malphas, then you can forget about ever returning to the capital!”

  “So let them hear. It’s a waste of time to pay our respects to a demon like him anyway.”

  “What’s the matter with you, Astaroth? I know Malphas gave up on us at the crucial moment during the trial, but we still have to stay within our limits. Or is it that…” he peered in his eyes, “Nephis’s confession about you and him joining hands to kill that human was true?”

  A cold shiver ran through his blood, but he didn't allow it to leak through his expression. “That confession is just as a waste of time as this funeral. Let's just say that Malphas was getting out of hand. He had threatened me about my position.”

  Balam stood frozen as if lightning zapped him from within. Astaroth didn't have to be explicit in telling which position he was referring to.

  “Do you still think I should care about his death? See you soon, Father.”

  “Astaroth! Astaroth!”

  His calls fell on deaf ears as Astaroth refused to look back. Walking along the long corridor in silence, he eventually burst into mocking laughter.

  “Good riddance, Malphas. What were you saying to me that day?”

  ‘Because you say funny things. You say you’ll expose me? Sure, do so if you want. But then you should also consider your position.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Yes. The position where you’re not the real Sovereign of the Sun and Moon. Do you remember that or perhaps you really started to believe that you’re the Sovereign?’

  Astaroth balled his fists, a sparkle of delight and satisfaction shining in his ember eyes.

  “Dead people tell no tales, Malphas. Rot in hell.”