37.
The Nanny’s eyes sparkled.
“Oh, that is a very sensible suggestion.”
“Wait a moment. Isn’t that… a bit too difficult for the Nanny? I believe her back would heal faster if she rested comfortably in a quiet place.”
Ellensia intervened urgently, but the Nanny insisted on demonstrating her loyalty.
“I am fine! My back can take its time to heal; I wish to remain by the Princess’s side to serve her.”
She knew that the day her back fully healed, she would be forced to leave the palace. That day would mark the end of her influence.
Therefore, she would do anything to cling to Ellensia and plant her roots in the palace. If she were confined to a small room for treatment, she would lose her only chance to exert authority over the Princess.
Philomel stepped in to defend the Nanny.
“Princess, please grant her request, as she is so insistent.”
“But…”
Ellensia hesitated, glancing toward Count Polan.
“Lady Philomel, are you truly certain this is acceptable?”
Count Polan seemed to believe that Philomel was being overly kind and foolishly taking on a thankless role.
“Of course. The Nanny will only be lying down here; what trouble could she possibly cause me? Besides, it will be easier for the Princess to adapt to palace life with her Nanny by her side.”
“…If you insist, I shall follow your will. However, since the Nanny’s stay will be prolonged, I have no choice but to inform His Majesty the Emperor.”
Count Polan looked down at the Nanny and spoke sternly.
“Be grateful to Lady Philomel and serve Her Highness the Princess with all your heart.”
“Yes, of course, how could I not?”
This time, Count Polan sought Ellensia’s agreement.
“Her Highness the Princess is fine with this as well, correct?”
“…That is.”
When an answer didn’t come immediately from Ellensia, the Nanny let out a loud sniffle, launching into dramatic complaints. She claimed she would be destitute if she left and had no family to take her in.
“…Yes, please do that.”
The kind-hearted Ellensia eventually accepted Philomel’s proposal.
“Lady Ellensia, do not worry. I will be by your side to provide thorough guidance so that the Princess can attain the proper dignity. Even if you grew up among the lowly, your noble bloodline remains. I shall wash away all the influence those base people have left on you.”
Having achieved her desire, the Nanny grinned.
It wasn’t even directed at her, but just imagining the Nanny’s ‘thorough guidance’ gave Philomel goosebumps.
Leaving behind the Nanny, who had launched into a long lecture about the poise of a Princess, Philomel exited the room with the Count.
‘Ellensia, you haven’t experienced enough of the Nanny yet, so it seems you haven’t been able to abandon your naive trust in people…’
It was clear that before long, even Ellensia would want to send the Nanny away with her own hands.
Philomel knew the woman well. She might have been a capable caregiver once, but that time had long since passed.
She was certain that even if an angel descended to earth, they would be driven to madness after spending just a few days in her company.
‘It’s a bit pitiful that Ellensia will have to suffer, but it cannot be helped.’
All of this was for Ellensia’s own sake.
Count Polan walked beside her and began to speak.
“I was once again moved by Lady Philomel’s compassionate heart.”
“I am no longer a Princess, you know.”
“Pardon?”
She had merely stated an obvious fact, yet he was startled.
“The real Princess, His Majesty’s biological daughter, has returned. I am a Princess no longer.”
“W-well, even so, if you were entered into the imperial registry… Has His Majesty not spoken to you about the registration yet?”
“He did, but I declined.”
“Why? Why would you do that!”
Count Polan’s jaw dropped; he looked even more shocked than before.
Philomel found his reaction more surprising than the question itself.
‘Is refusing the registration really something to be so shocked about?’
But she understood soon enough.
To them, she was a cuckoo chick that had rolled into another’s nest and occupied the place of the biological child. In their eyes, letting her stay was an act of grace that would make a saint weep.
Furthermore, if one were to stop anyone on the street and ask them to choose between living as a criminal’s daughter or as a Princess, how many would choose the former? To Count Polan, and from a general perspective, Philomel’s choice was like throwing away luck far beyond her station.
However, she had no intention of listing all the reasons why she didn’t want to be registered. Instead, she decided to make the Count understand from a different perspective.
“Registration is out of the question. Has there ever been a case of such registration in the history of the Belerov Empire?”
“That is…”
Polan closed his mouth.
As Philomel said, it was a matter without precedent in the long history of the Empire. Taking a person with whom one shared not a drop of blood into the Emperor’s family was unheard of.
Imperial registration was usually carried out for strictly political purposes rather than personal desire.
If the Emperor had no child to inherit the throne, a relative not too far from the direct line might be registered to secure the succession. Alternatively, if there was a need for a marriage alliance with another country and no suitable child to marry off, a child of a royal or high-ranking noble was formally registered for that purpose.
This instance didn’t fall into either category.
In fact, even if registration were necessary for those reasons, Philomel, who was neither royal nor noble, could not step into the imperial family. It was obvious that even if Philomel accepted the offer, the nobles would vehemently oppose it—unless Eustis, with his immense power, pushed it through at the risk of a massive purge.
‘Which obviously won’t happen.’
However, Polan did not give up.
“Still, it’s not as if there are absolutely no precedents. It is said that the 7th Emperor took pity on the daughter of a loyal subject who died protecting him and made her his own daughter, even though that subject was a commoner. Therefore, to say that Lady Philomel lacks the qualification…”
Good heavens.
‘The 7th? When in the world is that from? Eight hundred years ago?’
Philomel’s brow furrowed. At that point, it was the realm of legend, not history.
As she searched through her memories of history class, something bothered her.
“Wait a moment. The 7th Emperor… wasn’t he someone who was only posthumously honored?”
“Yes. That is correct.”
Posthumous honor.
When a royal who was not originally an Emperor is elevated to the throne by their descendants after death.
Usually, when someone who was not the child of the previous Emperor became Emperor, they granted the title of Emperor to their deceased parents to supplement their lack of legitimacy.
“Since he wasn’t an Emperor while he was alive, there naturally wouldn’t have been much opposition to taking a commoner as his child.”
It was a completely different matter from a living, reigning Emperor registering a commoner.
“Well. It’s not that there is absolutely no precedent, and well, the intent is good…”
“It seems insufficient as a basis.”
“How could this be… I spent three days and nights without sleep just to find this…”
Count Polan rubbed his hollow eyes and whined.
‘To think you dug up an anecdote from a time when hardly any records remain.’
Philomel could easily picture Count Polan struggling with musty, crumbling records in the underground archives.
“Why did you go to such lengths?”
Philomel, feeling a bit sorry for him, asked.
“When I told him it was unprecedented, His Majesty told me to find a precedent by any means necessary. He said that if one didn’t exist, I should create one and bring it to him…”
“……”
“I’ve searched all night and there is nothing. I haven’t even seen my daughter’s face in over five days because I can’t go home.”
Philomel offered a silent prayer for the father of a three-year-old.
Count Polan being worked to the bone by the Emperor’s unreasonable demands was nothing new, but this was going too far.
‘I have to do something.’
It seemed she would have to meet the Emperor directly and settle this, before the poor man went and invented a fake history.
But there was something else she needed to address first.
“Count Polan. No, Count.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Even though Philomel used honorifics, Count Polan still hadn’t given up hope and treated her as a Princess.
‘For now, I will let him do as he pleases.’
Instead, Philomel voiced what she wanted.
“I want to meet my biological mother. Please take me to the prison where that woman is being held.”
There was someone she had to see before she left this place: Katherine Hownz.
She had heard the story of Katherine from Countess Deles that morning. While they were chatting over breakfast, the Countess mentioned a scene she had witnessed.
“You know, I happened to pass by and saw a woman being dragged out of His Majesty’s office. It was so chilling to see blood dripping from her hands.”
“…A woman? Do you remember what she looked like?”
“Well, she was bowing her head, so all I saw was that she had brown hair. The maids there were saying the Emperor was extremely furious, but I wonder what kind of crime she committed? It was terrifying.”
A brown-haired woman.
Someone who had committed a crime grave enough to be dragged directly before the Emperor.
The Nanny, who had appeared shortly after, solidified what had been only a faint suspicion.
“Oh, my. That girl should end up like her mother who is in prison…”
The Nanny had grumbled it to herself, but Philomel had heard it clearly.
Katherine, the woman who gave birth to Philomel, was here in the Imperial Palace.