27.
Philomel shivered at the cold radiating from the floor. No sooner had she arrived at the precinct than she was handcuffed and thrown into a holding cell.
Her wrists throbbed from the biting metal, and the cheek where she had been struck burned with heat.
Was it Rozanne Manon? The precinct captain had addressed her as the daughter of Viscount Manon. It hadn’t registered at first, but the memories of the Manon viscountcy surfaced. Having been educated as an heir, she kept information about most noble families filed away in her mind.
‘The Manon viscountcy, if it’s them…’
Apart from the fact that the viscountess was the biological sister of Duchess Muriel, they were an unremarkable family. Their only daughter, however, did not have a normal personality.
It was the first time she had been struck, and she remained stunned for a moment.
‘I’ve never even been slapped by my nanny.’
Moreover, beyond the stinging pain, the scratch on her cheek suggested she had been cut by something.
‘Rozanne was wearing several rings.’
If it was a ring-induced scratch, there was a high probability it would leave a scar.
But now was not the time to fret over wounds. The guards, as well as the other prisoners dragged in, were gawking at Philomel like a monkey in a zoo.
“Is that the famous fake princess?”
“She’s the spitting image of the wanted poster, so it must be her.”
“She looks perfectly normal, so why would she do something like that?”
“How should I know? I guess you can’t hide the bad blood flowing through your veins.”
“Just thinking about how I had to patrol twelve times a day because of her makes me sick.”
The guards were at least marginally more composed than the others.
“Hey! You’re going to die anyway, why don’t you play with us!”
“What’s wrong? Did you think that because you played the noble princess, guys like us are just vermin?”
“You heaven-cursed wretch! Even worse than the rest of us!”
The prisoners openly scrutinized Philomel, showering her with insults. As the guards did not actively stop them, the harassment only intensified. Being exposed to their leering eyes with nothing but iron bars in between gnawed at Philomel’s sanity. Yet, when she imagined what was to come, even this seemed trivial.
‘I was foolish.’
She had exposed the Solar Flare Ring too much. Since the magic only took effect while wearing it, she couldn’t take it off.
‘I should have kept my hands in my pockets the whole time.’
At the very least, if she had rubbed the ring before they seized her, she could have activated a defensive spell and avoided this fate. If she were dragged before Eustis in this state, she would die sooner or later.
Thinking that her escape, dreamed of for years, would end so vainly made her feel more bitter than afraid. No matter how much a villain struggles, can they never escape the villain’s fate?
She had to do something. She refused to wait for the predetermined ending in silence.
Philomel stared at the people beyond the bars.
“Excuse me.”
“W-what?”
The guards flinched when the fake princess, who had been motionless until then, finally spoke.
“I will say this again; I am not the fake princess. My name is Charlotte Tate. I am just a traveler visiting this place to meet my family.”
Philomel used a pseudonym and an excuse she had fabricated on the spot. One of the guards, the one who seemed to be the most senior, stepped forward.
“My, I’m speechless. Look here. Don’t try anything funny and let’s keep this civil. No one here is going to believe that kind of lie.”
He did not look like an easy pushover, but Philomel did not give up.
“Isn’t it possible that there is someone in the world who looks similar?”
“So you’re just someone who happens to look like her?”
“From what I’ve read in the newspapers, all the reports submitted so far were misidentifications. You can’t say for sure it’s me.”
“Shut up! I know you’re just trying to slip away!”
To the man snorting in derision, Philomel played the final card she had just fashioned.
“Above all, I have a witness who can verify my identity.”
“And who is that?”
“Call the Magic Tower right now and ask for the mage, Lexion. I am his younger sister.”
When the Magic Tower was mentioned, the atmosphere among the guards shifted. It was no exaggeration to say that the economy of Angelium relied on the Tower. Visitors stayed in the city to spend money, and the magic tools produced there were the primary local specialty. Historically, when friction between the Magic Tower and the Empire led the Tower to close its doors, it was the citizens of Angelium who suffered most. To them, being on the bad side of the mages meant nothing but trouble.
“Lexion? Did that woman just say Lexion?”
“If it’s Lexion, the senior mage of the Magic Tool Management Division?”
“The one who is said to be the Tower Master’s protégé?”
Furthermore, it seemed Philomel’s brother, whom she had met for the first time today, was quite a famous figure. If magic tool management was his duty, the security forces naturally had to be cautious. Any slip-up could disrupt the supply of specialties, and the cooperation of the Magic Tower was essential for investigating magic tool-related crimes.
Philomel breathed a sigh of relief. If Lexion’s name didn’t work, she had considered bringing up Leguin, but it seemed unnecessary. The title of the Tower Master’s daughter was too grand and would only sound like a bluff.
“…How can we believe what you say?”
The guard, whose momentum had clearly waned, asked.
“If you don’t believe me, send a message and ask my brother to come here.”
“But at this late hour…”
“Is waking someone up in the middle of the night forbidden, but leaving his sister abandoned in a place like this acceptable?”
Philomel’s point made them look uncomfortable. They were on the verge of relenting. Philomel decided that since she was already using him, she might as well lean into it.
“My brother is a man who dotes terribly on his only sister. If he finds out that his sister was struck due to a simple mistake and locked up in a place like this, how heartbroken would he be?”
Although it was Rozanne who had struck her, she subtly shifted the blame onto the security forces.
“…Well. Wouldn’t it be alright to at least ask if his sister is visiting Angelium or not?”
“That’s true. If what she says is true, we might end up making a high-ranking person take a useless trip for nothing.”
As the other guards shifted, the senior man had no choice.
“Ugh. I don’t believe it, but I’ll make the call. But if it turns out to be a lie, don’t expect any mercy. No one will care if a criminal is missing a limb or two.”
Even the gruesome threat did not make Philomel afraid. Relief that she had somehow overcome the crisis spread through her. She had heard he had only two brothers, so if they asked about a younger sister, Lexion would naturally think of her. All that remained was to hope he would have the presence of mind to play along.
“Hey, you. Go to the Magic Tower and see if that woman’s story is true…”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Captain!”
Someone who had just entered blocked the man giving the orders.
“Someone who knows the fake princess has arrived. If we ask them, the truth will be clear immediately.”
Her mind went blank.
“They’ve arrived already?”
In response to a guard’s question, the precinct captain answered.
“Yes. They were already headed this way, so they could arrive early, apparently.”
Who on earth could it be? Whoever it was, if they knew her, it was over.
‘If I had just a little more time, I could have escaped…’
Fate was truly not on her side. Several footsteps and voices traveled through the narrow hallway.
“Please, this way. We had a report come in a few hours ago, so we’ve kept her detained. The reporter was a young lady named Rozanne Manon, and she specifically asked us to relay her message to you.”
“Wait. Detained? What does that mean…”
Soon, Nasar Abridon revealed himself. He was the last person Philomel wanted to see her in such a state. Nasar’s eyes fixed on Philomel, who was inside the cell. His honey-colored platinum hair caught the precinct’s lighting, glowing faintly. Even in a cramped and noisy environment, the distinguished young duke seemed to radiate light.
She turned her head, wishing she could hide in a mouse hole.
“Princess!”
The miracle of Nasar failing to recognize his own fiancée did not happen.
“You are safe! Really, truly… I was worried. But why are you in a place like this…? Please, wait just a moment.”
He drew his sword from his waist. He could have borrowed the key, but the bars were easily cut by his aura-infused blade. Nasar entered the cell, his eyes falling on Philomel’s handcuffed wrists.
“Could you extend your arms?”
The cuffs were severed like paper.
“Princess. Please, return to the Imperial Palace with me.”
He took Philomel’s cold hands as if to share his warmth. His eyes, shimmering with moisture, were unfamiliar.
‘Why is he making that face?’
As if he were truly, sincerely worried for her.
“Excuse me, Young Duke. What is the meaning of this situation…”
The precinct captain was flustered.
“You’re cold, aren’t you? Please, wear mine.”
Whether the captain cared or not, the young duke gently took off his coat and draped it over Philomel.
Bewilderment was etched on the faces of everyone in the room. It was because the Young Duke Abridon, who was supposed to take custody of the fake princess, was behaving so unexpectedly. Given the rumors, the woman they had locked up was indeed Princess Philomel, but it made no sense for the Young Duke to treat her with such deference. Princess Philomel was a fake, wasn’t she? So wasn’t she a criminal?
Then, something struck the precinct captain.
There had never been a single order issued through official channels to “Capture the criminal Princess Philomel.” The instructions were only to find the missing princess by any means necessary. That order had combined with rumors of a real princess appearing, and it was naturally accepted as a search for a criminal. Looking back, he realized he hadn’t questioned this interpretation at all.
‘Wait, if the princess isn’t a criminal, what have we done?’
Cold sweat broke out on the back of the precinct captain’s neck. Not only did they fail to serve an innocent member of the royal family, but they had dragged her in and locked her in a holding cell…
He didn’t even want to imagine what came next. It was a grave crime where even a clean death would be considered a mercy.