“My wish…?”
Ellensia asked, her expression dazed.
Eustis ignored his daughter’s query, turning his gaze toward the others in the room instead.
“Sixteen years ago today, my wife closed her eyes while giving birth to our child.”
The mention of the former Empress cast a pall over the room. One could glimpse an unhealed, jagged scar on the Emperor’s profile as he dragged the past into the light.
“My child was born in the home of my wife’s old friend, Katherine Hownz. At the time, Katherine also had a newborn of her own.”
No one dared to guess why Eustis was dredging this up—at least, not until they heard the rest.
“That day, my child and Katherine’s child were swapped. By mistake.”
Everyone present, save for the man speaking, drew a sharp, audible breath.
*What?*
Philomel’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“But, Your Majesty…!”
The youngest maid dared to interject. However, as the room’s collective gaze shifted toward her, her face turned sheet-white and she hurriedly bowed her head.
In the ensuing silence, Ellensia spoke up, her voice trembling.
“What do you mean? Mother clearly said she did it on purpose…”
“Ellensia.”
Eustis looked at his daughter, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“If it were not a mistake, that woman would have to pay for her crime with her life.”
“That is…”
Ellensia glanced around the room and clamped her lips shut. It seemed she finally understood; she realized this was the only way to save Katherine, just as she had pleaded.
Philomel realized it, too. She recognized the common thread linking everyone gathered here: they all knew Katherine had swapped the children intentionally. They knew it as fact, not rumor.
*I suspect the nanny was summoned to the palace to confirm whether Ellensia resembled the Empress. The book described a similar verification process. Perhaps when Katherine was dragged into that setting, she confessed, leading others to find out as well.*
Given that the time Countess Deles witnessed Katherine coincided with the nanny’s appearance in the Imperial Palace, the theory held weight.
*The knights must have captured Katherine, and the maids must have been the ones serving Ellensia. Since the nanny had cursed Katherine incessantly, the maids couldn’t possibly have remained ignorant. It was obvious.*
“Katherine did not know the children had been swapped at first, but…”
One could feel the Emperor grinding his teeth.
“As the years went by, she saw the child growing to resemble the Empress and realized the truth. And it is said that she happened to meet Philomel and confessed it to her.”
With this, the lie was complete.
The Emperor locked eyes with each person as he continued.
“I know what kind of talk is circulating out there. It is a groundless rumor that will soon die down. If that does not happen…”
The Emperor did not finish. He didn’t have to; the answer was written in the lethal, shimmering light in his eyes.
“I trust you will all handle yourselves accordingly.”
***
After the Emperor’s not-so-veiled threat, the room cleared. Once even Count Polan had withdrawn, only three remained in the office.
“With this, there is no chance that woman will face a public trial or punishment.”
Eustis said in a low voice.
“Since her crime remains on record, I cannot allow her freedom of movement, but I will see to it that she is moved to a better environment, as you wished.”
“…”
“Ellensia?”
Ellensia, lost in thought, snapped back to reality.
“Ah. Um… Thank you for granting my request! Above all, I’m happy that Father thinks of me this much.”
“That is a relief.”
“I must tell the nanny this good news. I’ll be going first.”
Ellensia poured out her words and hurried out. Once she was gone, only Eustis and Philomel remained in the stifling silence.
“…”
“…”
Philomel spoke first.
“Why… did you make that decision? For Ellensia’s sake?”
In the book, he had been so consumed by rage that he killed Katherine in one stroke and put her head on display. Philomel swallowed the rest of her question. Eustis had just declared he would cover up the crime of the woman who had stolen his daughter’s life. He had spent over a decade grieving, thinking his wife had died for nothing—all because of Katherine. He should have wanted to tear her to pieces.
“Yes,” he answered calmly.
“No one will question the crime of your biological mother, so do not shrink away needlessly. Though, it was never a matter you needed to feel responsible for in the first place.”
Was it my imagination that made it sound as if Philomel was also a reason he covered up the crime?
That’s absurd. It must be my imagination.
“…I understand.”
Philomel returned to her quarters with a heart full of heavy, complex emotions.
“So, you’re going to stay here permanently?”
“This is such wonderful news!”
When she told them her companions would be released, the maids were overjoyed. They seemed even more delighted by the news of Philomel’s extended stay.
Countess Deles, wearing a matching smile, added,
“Then the invitation to our estate will have to be postponed.”
“I will definitely visit when I have the time.”
Philomel wanted to settle her affairs here and visit the Deles estate with a light heart.
“It’s a promise. But if you are moving your quarters to the South Palace, you should start packing tomorrow.”
“Yes. I don’t plan on taking much.”
She had already discarded everything once when she ran away; she had no lingering attachments to the items here.
*It wasn’t mine to begin with, anyway.*
Nothing Philomel had eaten, worn, or possessed until now was truly hers. Even the people around her; in principle, they belonged to Ellensia.
“Meow.”
At that moment, the only soul unrelated to Ellensia approached her.
*Ah, you were here.*
Philomel mentally petted the cat’s head before addressing the room.
“Thank you for all the work you have done for me until now. From now on, I intend to lighten your burden.”
Everyone looked at her, confused.
Countess Deles asked, “If I may ask, what do you mean by that…?”
“I mean that when I move to the South Palace, there is no need for you to attend to me as closely as you do now. According to the guest-welcoming rules, please just perform your assigned duties at the designated times.”
The Countess and the maids were visibly flustered. It was understandable; she had been served by others since birth, and now she was suddenly declaring she would not be.
“However, those rules exist precisely because distinguished guests bring their own personal servants.”
That was true.
It was assumed guests would bring the staff they were accustomed to.
“Are you perhaps thinking of hiring separate servants?”
Philomel shook her head.
“I’m going to try to do what I can on my own.”
Independence.
She intended to use her time in the Imperial Palace as a stage to prepare for standing on her own two feet. She had realized, through her few days of running away, that she had grown up like a flower in a greenhouse, perpetually under the Emperor’s shadow.
She didn’t know how to haggle, so overpaying at the market was routine. If not for Jeremiah, her travel funds would have been stolen. She had come to fully feel the reality of what she had only known in theory.
*I thought I was all grown up, but I wasn’t.*
From basic grocery shopping to picking a safe place to stay—if it weren’t for the kindness of strangers, she wouldn’t have survived even a single day.
Thus, while staying at the palace, she wanted to do more than just solve the mystery of the book. She wanted to become a whole person.
“…Are you sure you will be alright? The State Guest House is very large. It will take you all day just to clean it.”
Nancy, the maid, expressed her concern.
“I just have to make sure I don’t make too much of a mess. Besides, it’s not that I won’t be served at all, just that I won’t have dedicated attendants.”
Like other guests, she could have the palace attendants handle basic chores twice a day. In truth, if she could, she would do even that herself, but it was unrealistic.
“Still, it will be hard on you…”
To the maid who was worried about her, Philomel said with a grin,
“If I really can’t do it, I’ll call for you. You can help me then.”
Even if she had chores left, it would only be clearing dishes or brewing tea, yet everyone seemed overly concerned. Once the maids were somewhat convinced, it was the Countess’s turn.
“…What should I do? If you do that, it seems you have no need for me, Philomel.”
Countess Deles murmured self-deprecatingly. As a noblewoman, she could not do menial chores. Once Philomel was no longer a Princess, the Countess’s role had effectively ended.
Philomel looked at her.
“Countess, please rest easy now. You haven’t even seen your daughter’s face since she returned, have you? You should go back to your estate and spend time with your family.”
Philomel relayed the words she had wanted to say before resentment could cloud the Countess’s face.
“And when you return, please become my friend. Not as someone who serves and someone who is served, but as equals.”
“That is…”
“From now on, since I am not a Princess, there will be fewer people visiting and it will be quite lonely. So, you must come often and spend time with me.”
Countess Deles answered, her voice choked with emotion.
“Yes. I will do that.”
For dinner, at Philomel’s suggestion, the Countess and the maids gathered together to eat. They hesitated at such an unconventional arrangement, but in the end, they accepted her stubbornness.
It was a boisterous dinner.