“Can you… can you prove what you’re saying?”

Duke Bercht finally spoke, though his voice trembled.

Black hair with golden eyes.

A few years ago, a man had appeared claiming to be the lost crown prince. He too had black hair and golden eyes.

Though his appearance was less impressive than the crown prince they remembered, given the ravages of time, they couldn’t categorically deny it was him.

That man was received into the palace, treated graciously for several days, and then discarded like a sacrificial lamb.

That was the fate of someone who didn’t know how to prove whether or not they were of royal blood.

The same would likely happen to this man.

He must be a swindler, lured here by rumors that he resembled the crown prince. Duke Bercht couldn’t understand why he felt a chilling sensation.

“Proof?”

The man with black hair tilted his head as if hearing the word for the first time and then let out a faint laugh.

“Ah, a paternity test? Sure, is that done with blood?”

Duke Bercht took a deep breath.

Paternity tests were secretly conducted on royal or noble children whose lineage was questioned. Commoners and lower nobility didn’t even know such tests existed.

Especially the practice of determining parentage by sprinkling blood on the bones of the deceased was unknown to many nobles.

How could this man know…

“While you’re at it, draw plenty of blood. The rest can be consumed by you all. It’s winter, and you might be lacking in iron.”

At his joke, which was spat out with a smirk, the people’s faces went pale.

The man was undoubtedly mad, but there was a strangely oppressive feeling in the air.

“However, to be honest, I’m not very keen on it.”

The fleeting smile disappeared from the man’s face.

“Not because I would waste my blood… but because I think the proof is unnecessary.”

“…”

“Don’t you agree, uncle?”

The man looked directly at the high seat. The gaze of Duke Montaner was still calm, but it was a calmness akin to the stillness before a storm.
The man spoke with a forced smile, as if trying to provoke anger from his uncle.

“Do you not recognize me, uncle?”

“…….,”

“It’s me, Her.”

The empire was in uproar.

The crown prince, thought to be dead, had returned.

Contrary to the people’s expectation of a bloody storm, the royal family continued with surprisingly composed steps.

It was because their leader quietly stepped back.

Duke Bellion had removed himself from contention for the throne without hesitation, thereby eliminating a source of conflict.

Rather, he embraced his nephew warmly with a face full of emotion.

“Your Highness… you’ve finally returned. Now, I can face the late Emperor and his consort in death.”

He was a man who knew when to advance for victory and when to retreat. The returning nephew fit perfectly with what he had envisioned, and thus he knew resistance was futile.

It was far better to cede his position now and plan for a future opportunity.

Opportunities would certainly come again, as long as one did not give up.

It was foolish for his deputies to fuss about paternity tests when he, their leader, had acted thus.

And now, there was nothing to gain by challenging the man who would be Emperor.

They had to obey. And not just in word; it was quickly concluded that offering a suitable gift would be beneficial.

They dressed up their daughter and granddaughter and presented them before Hersis.

The daughters who hesitated to marry the Duke readily agreed this time.

Hersis, now of marriageable age and fitting for an emperor, treated them all as potential empresses, and there was no lack of sincerity in his actions.

At least, that’s how it appeared on the surface.

Rumors spread across the empire that the coronation and national wedding would happen simultaneously.

No, there were also rumors that the national wedding would happen first.

Flowers were transported daily from the famous horticultural southern region, and renowned wedding dress designers and jewelers in the capital also lined up to visit the royal palace.

Though people spreading the rumors each pointed to different favorites, the rumor of a national wedding was robust.

Then, on a day when the rumors seemed almost to have become a foregone conclusion…

“I can’t live like this!”

Lady Berium returned from an outing, shouting as she threw her bag.
Liz stared down at her purse that had fallen after being hit by the cane.

A faint smile appeared at the corners of her mouth.

“The Duke has announced a divorce. He’s not marrying you.”

The mother added, as if swallowing her words, towards her daughter who nonchalantly picked up the bag.

“Please, just…”

“……”

“Disappear from my sight, you useless thing!”