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“A natural enemy whose mere existence is enough. Because you came to see the light of this world, all of Libertan’s plans were thwarted; he suffered repeated failures and eventually met his ruin. I wonder if Libertan was even aware of that fact? No. He probably didn't know. To him, you were likely nothing more than one of those troublesome nephews.”
“…….”
“And yet, because he bared his teeth so specifically in Your Highness's presence, I occasionally wondered. I wondered if Libertan possessed memories of the time that had passed. If he remembered, perhaps that was why he went so far to try and erase you.”
“…….”
“The result… was that he did not. He knew nothing until the very moment he drew his last breath. I believe the reason you grated on his nerves was no different. Therefore, I concluded that Libertan’s wariness was nothing more than simple instinct. That sixth sense that had made him the victor in a past life. That sharp vigilance that left me with no choice but to be defeated and murdered by him.”
“……I think I get the gist of what you mean. Still, it’s a bit difficult. How exactly did my birth threaten him?”
“The reason for that.”
“The reason?”
“I will tell you if you accept my proposal.”
“…….”
“…….”
“…….”
“Follow me, Valentin. There is something I want to show you.”
Larisa took a deep breath of the scent of crape myrtles lingering beneath her nose, then set the bouquet down with a look of regret and left the bedroom.
The two left the Imperial Palace. The place Larisa led him to was not the downtown area of Makhachkala, but a forest path lush with oak trees behind the palace.
Larisa seemed unconcerned even as the hem of her dress became soiled with dirt. As they walked upward along the path for ten minutes without a single word, Valentin became immersed in the thought that this silence between them was incredibly comfortable.
Deep inside the small forest were lush grasses, house-sized oak trees, the occasional tombstone, and finally, a hunter's shelter appearing suddenly before them. The moment he stepped into the small, humble, yet incomparably sturdy wooden shelter, Valentin could not hide his surprise.
“How is the Statue of Roo in the Imperial Palace…?”
“I requested it personally.”
The Statue of Roo stood there, fully bathed in the tiny dust motes drifting through the air.
For a moment, Valentin wondered if his eyes were deceiving him, but the familiar figure before him was indeed Roo. Larisa, smiling mischievously as if finding his reaction amusing, circled the statue.
“Only my family and you know that this statue is kept in the Imperial Palace. I asked Bishop Parben for just one week—exactly in this castle—to have time to admire it alone. And then, on the last day of that week, you returned. I suppose there really is such a thing as fate in this world, isn't there?”
“Are you saying the Bishop granted such a request? I find that hard to believe. Even so, a whole week would be difficult.”
“Hmm, well. It wasn't that difficult. I told him that I heard strange voices whenever I looked at this statue.”
Valentin’s breath hitched. Caught between the fear of an unexpected situation and a faint surge of excitement, he followed Larisa.
“Voices? Surely you don't mean….”
“Of course it was a lie. I'm not insane; what voices could one possibly hear from a piece of stone?”
As she stopped walking, Larisa, standing right in front of him, cleared her throat with an awkward look in her eyes.
Hah. It was absurd and yet funny. Bishop Parben fell for such a childish lie? Was it because the precedent of Valentin existed that he didn't suspect her? Valentin sighed, imagining himself kissing the cheek of this lovely, fearless prankster.
“Your Highness… always surprises me in ways I never expect. So, why did you go as far as to lie and cast aside your dignity to bring the statue here?”
“To show you.”
“Yes, I am looking. Where should I look more closely?”
“You idiot. Do you still not get it? Look at the top of the statue!”
It was an innocent exclamation filled with intense curiosity.
Valentin looked up, relieved that her atmosphere—which had been as sensitive as a cat with its fur standing on end—had largely vanished. A familiar face. A worn-down nose and lips. Everything was the same, except for one thing.
The three holes where the jewels of prophecy were once embedded.
Those holes… were filled with something.
“Surprising, right? Let me tell you in advance, I didn't put them there. They weren't there when it was first moved here, nor were they there five days ago, four days ago, or three days ago. I first discovered them yesterday afternoon. Again, only we, my family, and Bishop Parben know that this statue is in this spot.”
Valentin held his head, steadying his breath so quietly that Larisa could not hear him.
Yesterday afternoon.
The moment he had beheaded Libertan.
It was a terrible coincidence.
“Could it be a ghost?”
I hope so, he intended to answer, but his voice wouldn't come out properly.
“Or maybe Ivan or Bishop Parben played a prank. The color is completely different from the real jewels of prophecy, isn't it? Instead of a bright turquoise, it's a greyish color, no different from faded mourning clothes. But look at this, Valentin.”
Suddenly, Larisa dragged a chair from somewhere, climbed onto it, and stood on her tiptoes. With a somewhat comical pop sound, the three jewels embedded in the forehead came out, and Valentin was too stunned to say a word.
Unaware of how he felt, Larisa held out the mysterious objects in front of Valentin.
The raw, cold light emanated from the dull, rat-grey ores that could hardly be called jewels. Valentin clenched his fists to calm his racing heart.
“These petal-like impurities embedded inside these jewels. They are identical to the jewels of prophecy drawn in the Diary of Roo. Just in case, I brought the translation and compared them myself, and believe it or not, they're exactly the same. Could they really be the jewels of prophecy? I don't know why the color… faded, though.”
Larisa looked at Valentin with a silent gaze seeking an answer, but he did not speak carelessly. He merely glared with a sharp gaze at the rotten jewels resting on her white palm.
He couldn't be certain of their identity. He only felt a deep sense of unpleasantness at the fact that they were touching Larisa's skin.
“Shall we take them?”
Valentin looked down at her with an expression of utter absurdity once more. Larisa, clearing her throat awkwardly, took a step back.
“What's the harm? It would be more confusing if something that was gone suddenly reappeared.”
This won't do.
“No matter how I think about it, it seems these jewels returned because of you, so it's only right that you have them—Huh? Wa-wait! You idiot! What are you doing? Why are you throwing them into the bushes!”
Valentin shook off the hand that felt tainted by a foul sensation and approached Larisa.
“My apologies, Your Highness. I shall carry you away for a moment.”
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