“Celia Brillion.”
Embarrassment clouded Empress Erpia’s face at the unexpected name.
Ileon spoke in a soft, gentle tone.
“Your Majesty has seen it yourself. That woman stirs the lustful desires of men—be they young or old, it makes no difference.”
“…What does that have to do with Ben disfiguring Jeremy’s face…?”
“Did not the Crown Prince himself publicly declare that Celia Brillion is his mistress?”
Ileon smiled faintly, his eyes delicately narrowed.
“At that moment, nearly every man present in the banquet hall would have turned their back on His Highness. Not granting the most honored seat to the most beautiful woman in Abelon, but instead reserving it for a mere mistress?”
Sipping chamomile tea with elegance, Ileon continued.
“It was the act of trying to monopolize a beautiful flower coveted by all that sparked resentment. Had he waited until after ascending the throne, it might have been different. To announce her as his mistress during the birthday celebration was reckless.”
Erpia struggled to grasp Ileon’s implication.
To her, the fact that men desired that woman and Jeremy’s disfigurement seemed entirely unrelated.
“So you’re suggesting the Duke wanted to frame me as the culprit—claiming that woman knew I sought to ruin my own face, so he instead drugged Jeremy and pinned the blame on me?”
“Heavens no. How could a woman who’s barely spent any time in the palace possibly orchestrate such a thing?”
“Didn’t you yourself just say, with your own mouth, that she was the culprit?”
Ileon smiled gently. Placing the half-empty chamomile tea cup on the table, he spoke in a languid tone.
“If she didn’t act alone, but had help from someone familiar with the inner workings of the palace, then such a thing wouldn’t be impossible, would it?”
“!”
“And who is the person closest to that woman, if not Duke Calypso?”
Empress Erpia’s hand, still holding the teacup, trembled slightly. It felt as though blood surged violently through her veins.
“…Are you implying Ben was working for Dietrich?”
“Hmm. I merely suggested the most plausible possibility.”
The corners of Ileon’s eyes curved faintly.
“Your Majesty once complained to me that Ben behaves like a solitary old man—never speaks of his family.”
She did recall saying that. Ileon, being from the same noble house and always wearing a gentle expression, was easy to talk to.
In contrast, Ben, though loyal, was nearly silent—speaking only when absolutely necessary.
“If Ben fell for that woman at first sight, and the two of them exploited that, is it entirely implausible?”
Could it really be true?
“I believe the person currently on the worst terms with the Crown Prince is also the one closest to the culprit. A woman forced into being a mistress, and Duke Calypso, who is close to her. Of course, this is merely my personal opinion.”
Erpia was completely convinced by Ileon.
After all, why would Ileon have any reason to harm her or her son?
He was already regarded as more imperial than the Emperor himself, and whenever she failed to handle something, he swiftly resolved it without fuss.
“Duke, you haven’t spoken of this matter to anyone, have you?”
“How could I possibly spread such things? I am not even of the royal household.”
Hearing Ileon’s firm denial, Erpia felt even more at ease.
Of course, deep inside, she seethed with rage at the thought of Dietrich—whom she had long coveted—doing such a thing, though she showed nothing outwardly.
“Indeed, only you can be trusted. Might I ask—could you look into whether there’s any way to restore Jeremy’s ruined face? He refuses to listen to me entirely, so I’d appreciate it if you could speak to him directly.”
Ileon gave a faint nod.
“I will, Your Majesty. Please do not worry excessively.”
[This is the timeline separator]The night grew deep.
Celia used the moonlight as her lamp, carefully examining a bookshelf positioned against the wall.
Every book on the shelf was thick and heavy.
Hoping to find some useful clue, Celia spotted one book that stood out.
‘History of Abelon Wars.’
Thump.
In the silence, the only sound was Celia turning the pages.
Her hand paused as she read through the war records.
Within the ancient chronicles was recorded the invasion of her own kingdom by Abelon.
[Year 313 of the Empire, September 13.The 13th Emperor of Abelon personally led the conquest of the Shan Kingdom.]
Just a single sentence.
A single sentence written from the invader’s perspective.
No reasons. Nothing else was written.
Feeling her blood boil, Celia flipped further back.
But the pages behind were blank.
Celia snapped the book shut.
The moment she returned it to the shelf, a long shadow suddenly loomed over her from behind.
‘When did he even arrive?’
Even Dietrich’s mansion was not a safe place.
Judging that drawing her dagger would be too late, Celia immediately activated her ability.
The scent of hyacinth bloomed from her body, instantly enveloping the intruder.
At the same time, the intruder froze. Celia sharply turned her head to face them.
“You!”
Recognizing the intruder, Celia immediately withdrew her ability.
The silent intruder was none other than Dietrich.
“Why did you approach without a sound? You nearly made my heart stop.”
“…I had something to tell you.”
Celia wondered—was it really necessary to sneak up like this at such a late hour?
Reading her expression, Dietrich’s lips parted slightly.
“If I waited until tomorrow, it might already be too late.”
“…Why?”
“Ileon has cornered both you and me. He’s strongly convinced the Empress that you and I were the ones who poisoned the Crown Prince.”
Why was there never a single peaceful day in this palace?
Celia felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
“The real culprit is Ileon. He approached me first, showed me poison, and asked if I intended to use it. I refused.”
Dietrich’s pupils widened—clearly hearing this for the first time.
“…This is bad.”
“What is?”
“This situation. It’s bad.”
Frowning, Dietrich gazed at Celia.
“The page you were just reading—it was definitely about the Shan Kingdom, wasn’t it?”
“…”
“Then you must be from the Shan Kingdom. I thought there were no survivors. Judging by your ability, you must be of royal blood.”
Celia was stunned by Dietrich’s precise deduction.
Was he merely guessing? But his certainty seemed absolute.
“I once heard from my mother about a princess born in the Shan Kingdom with the ability to control people’s minds—using the fragrance of flowers to paralyze the five senses.”
Celia felt her heart drop at Dietrich’s words.
“You can’t possibly think I’m that princess?”
Celia snapped sharply, and Dietrich fell silent.
Perhaps it was the moonlight, but his eyes shimmered with quiet intensity.
Celia had been about to reveal that she, too, knew Dietrich was from Inata Duchy.
“You’re from Inata—”
But Dietrich cut her off.
“Yes.”
He did not deny it. Instead, he gently tucked a strand of hair clinging to Celia’s cheek behind her ear.
“I am from the Inata Duchy.”
His gaze upon her, as he said this, was infinitely tender.
So gentle was his look that she felt foolish for having been on guard.
“I wish I had known you were alive much sooner.”
Though they had first met in this palace, he looked at her as if he had known her for a very long time.
“…Have you known about me all along?”
“Though I’ve never seen you, I’ve heard endless stories about you from my mother. So much so that I even know your childhood nickname was Asha.”
Celia suddenly felt afraid of Dietrich.
If he knew even her royal childhood name, then just how much did he know?
She realized denial was pointless.
At this point, where the other knew everything about her, she had already lost control.
But she couldn’t end the conversation empty-handed.
“Who are you, really? And who exactly is your mother?”
Dietrich shook his head slightly.
“I already told you. I am from the Inata Duchy.”
“…What I want to know is your true identity. How much more are you hiding from me?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Dietrich asked, his voice tinged with delight.
Celia had never seen Dietrich look so happy. Unsure how to respond, she faintly nodded.
In response, the man who was always expressionless broke into a wide, genuinely joyful smile.
Beneath his straight brows, his eyes crinkled warmly, and his usually stiff lips curved into a soft arc.
Even the moonlight seemed to dim before that radiant smile.
For some reason, Celia could not look away from Dietrich’s bright smile.
At the same time, a troubling thought arose.
If she learned everything he was hiding, she would never be able to escape from the man standing before her.
It was a kind of intuition.
Yet, more than that fear, Celia wanted the truth.
Dietrich leaned toward her.
“I’ll tell you who I am—just once. Listen carefully.”
Then, a warm breath brushed against Celia’s ear.
“I am…”
Male lead is a Love-Obsessed Merman
When he discovers she has gone, he risks everything to pursue her on land, enduring agonizing pain to transform his tail into human legs…
One-line summary: Male lead chases female lead. The male lead’s love is a bit sick, an invincible love brain.
Synopsis
During a voyage at sea, Jiang Yang accidentally captures a merman.
Servant: I heard that mermen are fierce and brutal.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman obediently rubbing her palm like a puppy: “You call this fierce and brutal?”
Servant: I heard that mermen have no human nature.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman with wet puppy eyes, obsessively calling her ‘A Yang’ like a childish infant: “You call this having no human nature?”
With great difficulty, she releases the merman back into the sea and returns to shore.
Who would have thought that in less than half a month, the merman, who should have been freely wandering in the South China Sea, would shed his scales, endure the pain of losing his tail, transform into human legs, and come ashore to find her?
He kneels at her feet, rubbing her palm, with merman tears rolling down: “A Yang, don’t abandon me.”
_____
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