Chapter 25: The Grand Duke Receives Unwanted Guests (3)

The room went still.

I smiled faintly. "That is also correct."

Spiro lowered his gaze. "I don’t have one now, do I?"

Something in my chest tightened unpleasantly.

I disliked it.

"Everyone has a mother in the biological sense," I replied evenly. "But if you mean whether you need one to belong here, then no. You do not."

His fingers pressed lightly against the cover of his book.

"What if people keep asking?"

"Then you may tell them to ask me directly."

"But won’t that trouble Father?"

I scoffed. "Spiro, troubling me is a privilege. Not just anyone qualifies."

He blinked then smiled. It was a rare genuine smile.

My day, which had been thoroughly harassed by callers and gossip, became slightly less offensive.

Abi watched us with that same knowing look again.

I ignored him with increasing difficulty.

William stepped forward. "Your Excellency, lunch will be served shortly. Afterward, you must prepare for the archive exhibition."

"Ah, yes. The Crown Prince’s bait."

Spiro looked up. "Bait?"

"Political bait."

"Is Father going to bite it?"

"Of course."

His eyes widened.

I smiled. "If I don’t, how else will I know if there is a hook?"

Abi laughed. "Such educational parenting. I almost want to admire you."

"Don’t. I’d only think you were criticizing my parenting."

"I am admiring it."

"That is worse."

Lunch passed with fewer disasters. Spiro was more relaxed after the morning’s education in courtly deception, which said worrying things about the child. Most children would be bored, he seemed fascinated instead.

He asked about the proper way to refuse invitations, the difference between a duke and a marquess, whether temple blessings actually worked, and why nobles used fans indoors.

The last question was the most difficult to answer.

"Probably because they enjoy making their hands relevant," I said.

William paused mid-pour.

Spiro nodded as if this explained everything.

Perhaps it did.

After lunch, I changed into formal attire suitable for a daytime imperial event. Less dramatic than last night’s midnight black, though no less refined. I chose a deep charcoal coat embroidered with subtle gold thread, the patterns restrained enough for an archive exhibition yet unmistakably Konstantin. My ring remained on my hand, of course.

Vita’s Tears stayed hidden.

I still had no intention of using it today.

But I’m not closing my mind to both possibility and opportunity.

Abi appeared in another set of violet robes, because apparently he had developed a personal color scheme and intended to terrorize society with it.

"You are coming?" I asked.

"Naturally."

"Must you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"The puppy invited you to a room full of old imperial things. You love old things. You might get distracted and fall into a historical trance. Someone must watch over you."

What a good excuse. He just want to have fun at my expense again. Although, the situation he used was unfortunately not impossible.

I frowned. "I do not fall into historical trances."

William, standing by the door, said nothing.

His silence was far too loud. I couldn’t help but look at him.

He continued being silent, further affirming Abi’s words.

Traitor.

"Fine," I said. "You may come. But you better behave."

Abi smiled brightly. The smile of his asking to be punched.

"Define behave."

"No floating. No insulting the imperial family. No statements that could be misconstrued as treason. No touching ancient relics without permission. No threatening scholars. No calling the Crown Prince a puppy in public."

"That is a long list."

"It is not even complete. I forgot some of it."

"How restrictive."

"It’s a necessary restriction. I don’t want to waste effort cleaning up your mess."

As we prepared to leave, Spiro appeared at the entrance hall. He had clearly tried not to look like he was waiting, but he was too young to pull off casual indifference. He stood near the staircase with Bernard behind him, clutching the geography primer in both hands.

"Father," he said.

"Yes?"

"Will you be back before dinner?"

I paused.

The question was simple. The tone was not.

There was a carefulness to it, the kind formed by being used to expecting promises to be broken.

"I intend to," I answered. Then, after a moment, added, "If I am delayed, I will send word."

His shoulders eased.

"Okay."

I walked closer and adjusted the collar of his coat. It did not need adjusting but I did it anyway. It’s a way of reassurance on my part.

"Do not spend the entire afternoon reading. Walk in the garden as William instructed."

"Yes, Father."

"And eat the fruit prepared for you."

"Yes, Father."

"And do not let Abi’s earlier behavior influence your manners."

Abi gasped behind me. "I can you hear you."

"I said it for you to hear."

Spiro giggled but he did not hide it fast enough this time.

I said nothing else and just patted his head once and turned away.

The carriage ride to the palace was quieter than usual. Abi spent most of it staring out the window, while I reviewed what I knew.

The Crown Prince was sick and the palace was hiding it.

The court was becoming restless and someone around the Crown Prince knew enough about Sonomi to use a rare eastern blessing phrase.

The imperial archives exhibition might be bait, but bait could be eaten if one knew how to avoid the hook.

Besides, I genuinely wanted to see the artifacts.

That was not the main point, but it was still a point.

When we arrived at the palace, the atmosphere was different from the previous night. Sunlight softened the white stone walls, turning them less theatrical and more severe.

Without music and dancing bodies, the palace felt closer to what it truly was.

A fortress wearing jewelry.

We were led not to the ballroom but through a side corridor lined with portraits of past emperors. Each one stared down with solemn arrogance, as if daring descendants to disappoint them.

Given the state of the empire, they must have been very busy even in death.

The attendant guided us toward the western wing, where the imperial archives were housed. Scholars in formal robes moved about with guarded excitement. Several nobles had been invited too, though far fewer than last night. They were carefully chosen guests. Only those influential enough to matter and educated enough to appreciate the display but angerous enough to watch one another politely.

The Crown Prince stood near the entrance of the exhibition hall.

He turned as we approached.

"Your Excellency," he greeted, smiling with controlled warmth. "Lord Abinatha. I am pleased you came."

"I could not refuse such a thoughtful invitation, Your Highness," I replied.

His eyes flickered faintly. He knew exactly what bait he had used. Of course, he expected us to be here.

"Then I hope the exhibition will not disappoint."

"That depends on what the palace is willing to show."

A faint smile touched his lips. "More than usual, I believe."

Oh?

Now that sounds promising.

We entered the hall.

Glass cases lined the room, each protected by layers of preservation magic and security arrays. Ancient documents, ceremonial weapons, fragments of treaty tablets, and artifacts from the empire’s founding era were arranged with meticulous care.

My irritation faded despite myself.

History had a smell. Not everyone could detect it. To most people, old things smelled of dust, ink, leather, and stone. But to me, history smelled like a locked door waiting for the correct hand. It smelled like secrets that had outlived their liars.

I stepped toward the nearest case.

Inside rested a cracked stone tablet carved in Ancient Paravel.

My brows lifted. This one was not a copy but an original.

The palace had indeed brought out something interesting.

Abi leaned near me. "Oh. Your eyes changed."

"Did they?"

"You suddenly look hungry."

"I am merely admiring a relic of the past."

"You look like you want to steal it."

"I can admire and want to steal at the same time."

"Ah. I suppose."

I ignored him and focused on the tablet.

The inscription was incomplete, but several lines remained legible. It referenced the early unification campaigns, before Yarina had become the empire it now claimed to be.

There were also mentions of alliances, conquered territories, oath-bound houses, and then...

I stopped.

A word caught my eye.

It was not Sonomi nor Konstantin

Lorillis.

But it was treated not as a desert but as a name.

The Crown Prince watched me carefully.

"You noticed as well," he said.

I straightened slowly. "This tablet refers to Lorillis as if it were a person."

"That is what the archivists believe."

I looked at him. "And why did Your Highness think this would interest me?"

His expression remained calm, but his eyes sharpened.

"Because Sonomi is not merely land to your family, is it?"

The air seemed to still. I could feel Abi’s amusement vanished.

And for the first time that day, I felt my smile become genuinely sharp.

"Careful, Your Highness," I said softly.

The Crown Prince did not look away.

"I am trying to be."

Oh, how very, very interesting.

Perhaps the imperial puppy had not merely brought bait.

Perhaps he had found a key.