“When I visited Lady Bercheria’s house the other day, I saw portraits of His Majesty the Emperor and his spouse hanging in her exhibition room. I knew it when I saw it because you look very similar to your original self.”

In truth, Liz had never seen such a portrait. But there wasn’t a painting or portrait that Lady Bercheria, a fanatic art collector, didn’t own, so there must surely have been a portrait of the imperial couple there.

It was a timely ruse. Except for one thing.

“Which of the two?”

At Kain’s sharp question, Liz lightly bit her lower lip. She had never seen the portrait, so she couldn’t know.

Liz quickly reviewed the original work. But….

‘There’s nothing. I don’t remember!’

She couldn’t recall which of the two she resembled more.

In the end, she had no choice but to guess.

‘It must be the father?’

Usually, in medieval-themed novels, the male leads resemble their fathers.

Liz tightly sealed her quivering lips and soon spoke her answer.

“My mother.”

Why?

At the last moment, her lips twisted involuntarily and she blurted out a completely different answer than what she had in mind.

‘I’m doomed….’

In Kain’s gaze that stared at her motionlessly, Liz felt as if her breath had stopped.

There was no way to recover from this.

“I see.”

Surprisingly, his tense forehead slowly relaxed.

He really did resemble his mother!

Kain withdrew his suspicions and once again turned his eyes toward the palace.

In that moment, Liz discreetly wiped her chest. She couldn’t believe this miraculous luck.

A short time later, Liz looked at him with a considerably composed face.

The distant golden dome appeared silver under the moonlight, but its value did not look diminished. Rather, it exuded an even more subtle and mysterious aura, like an ancient temple.

The enormous iron gates exhibited towering majesty as if they would never let just anyone enter, and the two guards in front of them stood as still as statues, holding their sharp spears.

As she was about to lose herself in the painting-like view of the palace,

“Just seven years old.”

His voice softly permeated her ears.

“It was too young an age to realize there’s not a single person in the world to trust.”

Hersis lost both his father and mother at the age of seven.

It wasn’t a sudden death, so it wasn’t a big shock.

Their bodies had gradually weakened over time, going through a predictable course that led to death.

Young Hersis visited his parents every day, holding their hands, reading books to them, and singing songs. He believed without a doubt that hope, kindled by the presence of a loved one, was the greatest strength for the sick.

Reading through examples of miracles brought about by hope, the young boy earnestly wished to add one more case to those miracles.

“But unfortunately, such a miracle did not occur.”

He stated dispassionately.

“I have never thought then, or now, that I was not a loved one to them. I had simply gone too far to trigger a miracle.”

Despite various efforts, the Emperor and Empress’s physical condition continued to deteriorate. Despite administering all sorts of potent medicines, there was no sign of improvement.

Young Hersis was afraid to open his eyes every day.

How much blood would they vomit today? How much darker would the shadows under their eyes be?

Their vision weakened to the point where they could no longer see his steadily improving handwriting or growing swordsmanship skills. The moment when all he could do was pray eventually came.

During the times when he couldn’t see his parents, he prayed tirelessly from morning to night.

He thought that if he prayed earnestly, he would be answered. He had heard that gods happily respond to a child’s prayers.

But on the day when he offered the most fervent and desperate prayers of his life, his parents both met their end.

When he rushed to the scene after hearing the news, all he saw were the frail bodies of his parents, lying as if they had peacefully fallen asleep while holding hands tightly.

“I should have felt sorrow, but at that moment I felt betrayed.”

His tone was tinged with restrained sorrow as he spoke about his emotions at that time.

“They both left me behind and went far away happily. Just like when they would have difficult conversations at the dinner table that I couldn’t understand. I felt excluded, just like then. I had stayed up all night reading books and studying because I wanted to join their conversation, but still felt abandoned.”
The thought dominated the young boy’s mind and heart for a while, but it didn’t last long. A few days after laying the Imperial couple to rest in the royal mausoleum, he finally confronted the rising pain of loss from the bottom of his heart and felt profound sorrow.

He wanted to wail, but even time for that wasn’t sufficiently given. Oddly enough, an unfamiliar situation awaited him.

The attitudes of the people around him changed drastically.

The slightest mistake led his relatives to question his suitability as a successor, and the senior advisors pushed him into unmanageable predicaments.

The young boy blamed himself for all these circumstances.

“I thought I was treated this way because I was inadequate. Otherwise, there’s no way the people who were so kind to me during my parents’ lifetime would change overnight,” he believed.

His seven-year-old mind was too innocent to consider other reasons.

The young Hersis became increasingly dispirited, cautious, and sensitive.

The person who warmly embraced him in this state was none other than his uncle, Duke Montaner.

“Poor Majesty. Trust only me now. I will protect you.”

What else could a frightened young animal relying on its kin do?

“I trusted my uncle. In the end, he was the least trustworthy person of all.”