.jpg)
The claim that he had murdered his own mother—the former Empress—was not something that could be easily brushed aside.
But what was even harder to accept was the fact that it was Yulan, of all people, who had committed such an act.
No matter how much she racked her brain, she always returned to the same conclusion: 'A man like Yulan could never do such a thing.'
'This must be a misunderstanding or a leap in logic. Perhaps he's saying he killed her because he's in pain over the fact that she passed away early due to illness, having given birth to a cursed child...'
Seeing how he still kept the words left by the former Empress buried deep in his heart, it seemed entirely plausible.
Pretending to be frail to avoid all public activities, and choosing to hide in the back alleys, staining his hands with blood despite his noble status.
If she viewed all of it as part of that guilt, his actions became somewhat understandable.
Perhaps his high regard for people like Madame Magnolia and the way he cleared paths for them was the same.
Like some cliché story about wanting to exert a positive influence on the world in his own way.
'I might be seeing him in too positive a light, but I simply can't think of it any other way. Because the Yulan Artlux I've known so far is that kind of person.'
To deny this was equivalent to denying Yulan, and by extension, denying her own judgment in observing him.
Thus, continuing to dwell on it was getting her nowhere.
With the meager information Yevgenia possessed, it was impossible to uncover the truth behind the confession he had made.
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she spoke cautiously.
"The former Empress was frail and fell ill. To blame yourself for even that is—"
"Hahaha..."
The conjectures Yevgenia had built up were immediately sunk by Yulan's laughter.
There was an inexplicably gloomy atmosphere in his laugh.
With their noses nearly touching, he spoke, his eyes slightly cast down.
"I am not so weak as to blame myself for my mother's death by illness, Imperial Princess."
"..."
"When I say I killed my mother, I am not speaking in metaphors."
Yulan's voice, as he continued calmly, did not tremble in the slightest.
Such an unwavering confession would be impossible unless he had rehearsed it alone dozens, no, hundreds of times.
This confession Yulan was reciting now was likely the largest and heaviest secret he carried.
Unfortunately, her intuition was perfectly correct.
"I handed my mother a teacup laced with poison, and after drinking that tea, she vomited blood right before my eyes."
"...!"
"Well, Imperial Princess. Are you still not afraid of me?"
The scene he described seemed to paint itself as a picture in her mind.
A woman drinking tea brought by her son, then collapsing while vomiting blood.
And a green-eyed boy standing before her, watching her silently.
Yulan seemed quite pleased with the speechless Yevgenia, a faint smile playing on his lips.
To her, however, Yulan's attitude felt like a signal that there was 'something' more to the story.
'There's no way that man committed such an act without a reason. No matter how young he was, there must have been a reason to do such a thing.'
Therefore, Yevgenia spoke with a firmer voice, pretending to be unfazed.
"Not at all. Even if you truly gave the former Empress poisoned tea, there must be a hidden truth behind it."
"There is a limit to stupidity, Imperial Princess. Isn't insisting blindly without a single shred of evidence something you should have graduated from in childhood?"
Cold, biting criticism poured out without a moment's respite.
But Yevgenia could not back down here.
She had already thrown away all calculations regarding him.
Right now, she simply didn't want to leave him—who had become her 'associate'—as he was.
It would have been pitiful even if they were mere acquaintances, but Yulan was already too deeply connected to Yevgenia.
So, if she didn't want to regret it later, her only choice was to do her best now.
"I... do have evidence."
"Now that is a surprising tale. That an Imperial Princess, who has known the Second Imperial Prince's true identity for less than half a year, possesses evidence that could change an event from over ten years ago."
Yevgenia let out a small sigh and clamped both hands over Yulan's mouth, which continued to pour out spiteful words.
He merely quirked an eyebrow as if daring her to say what she wanted, neither pulling her hands away nor pushing her off.
Charging her courage by taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she continued in a low voice.
"It's true that I haven't known you for very long. That is an undeniable fact."
"..."
"But that doesn't mean there's a problem with me believing that you aren't the kind of person who would do such a thing."
Before Yevgenia could even finish, Yulan's lips twitched beneath her palms.
She knew he wanted to refute her words immediately, but Yevgenia stubbornly ignored him.
'Yulan, this man needs to learn how to listen. Even if I have to force him.'
Keeping his mouth blocked with pressure, she looked straight into his eyes, just as he had done to her.
"That is my evidence. The belief that you would never kill someone without a reason."
"..."
"So, I can answer the question you asked as many times as you like. I'm not afraid of you at all."
Of course, it would be a lie to say she had never been afraid of him once.
It was only natural to be terrified when she first saw him dragging a blood-soaked person around.
However, as their conversations increased and the time they spent together grew longer, her thoughts about him gradually changed.
'It's a bit annoying how he twists things to provoke people during conversations, but sometimes it feels like solving a puzzle, so I actually enjoy it. I worry that I'm taking him too lightly...'
Even if she didn't fear him and felt he was almost like a friend, it was inevitable that he was mentally exhausting.
Perhaps that was why a conversation like this, where there was no returning answer, was much more... comfortable than she expected.
She could say everything that came to mind, and there was no risk of the flow being interrupted.
She intended to shatter every misconception Yulan held.
"When I said earlier that it might be better to cover your eyes, it was just because you want to hide your identity, so I thought it would be better for you to hide it more thoroughly. Because if someone else who knows your identity isn't friendly, it'll just become a nuisance for you."
She felt the small amount of unfairness she'd been harboring roll away.
It was unbelievable that the reason she discovered this absurd secret was merely a single word of trivial concern.
It meant that his eyes—or more accurately, anything regarding the former Empress—were essentially Yulan's Achilles' heel.
Letting out a light sigh, Yevgenia added jokingly.
"Well, since wearing tinted glasses all the time would be inconvenient, why not bring about ten young men with eye colors similar to yours into the capital? Then even if someone suspects, it'll be easy to brush it off. By suggesting they just mistook the color."
In reality, few people stared that intently into another's eyes, so it would be easy to deceive them.
Even Yevgenia's own golden eyes were occasionally mistaken for light brown or yellow, so a green hue would be easy to play off.
'Still, Yulan's eyes are quite striking. Such a vivid green is hard to find...'
Fortunately(?), he spent most of his time in this dark room, so it was a plan worth attempting.
Instead, he could just let the men with similar eye colors operate in bright areas within the capital.
Having finished saying everything to her heart's content, Yevgenia removed her hands, and Yulan's spiteful tongue immediately began to move.
"So now you're encouraging an Imperial Prince to engage in slave trading? Indeed, you are a worthy successor to Duke Martir."
.jpg)