Chapter 35: The Grand Duke Enters the Lower Vault (2)

This was not proof of anything yet. The term could refer to monsters. Maybe a cult or some ancient enemy. It could also be a plague.

Or most likely a metaphor. Humans loved metaphors almost as much as they loved lying.

Still, something in the words scraped unpleasantly against my instincts.

"Your Excellency," the empress said, "what is your interpretation?"

I smiled without warmth.

"That depends on whether Your Majesty wants the polite answer."

"And the impolite one?"

"That someone buried records they did not want later generations to understand."

The Crown Prince’s face tightened.

Marcellus said nothing, his face remained blank.

The empress approached the case, her silver-blue gown barely stirring. She looked down at the fragments with an expression I could not easily read.

"History often buries itself," she said.

"No," I replied. "People bury history. Then they blame time for the grave."

For the first time, something in her expression shifted.

Heh. Looks like the empress knew more than she had said.

Of course she did.

If she did not, this invitation would have been disappointingly simple.

We moved deeper along the shelves and more fragments appeared. Some were geographical notes while others were damaged accounts from early envoys sent eastward. A few mentioned the desert in ways that no modern Capital scholar would tolerate.

Lorillis was referred to as keeper, watcher, mouth of silence, sun-veiled witness, and once, in a badly cracked line, beloved jailer.

Beloved jailer.

Now that was dramatic enough to be useful.

I almost wanted to admire the brain of whoever came up with it.

My eyes caught a sealed box sat near the end of the room, protected by three layers of wards. The box itself was black wood veined with gold, the same pattern as the walls. It bore neither imperial crest nor noble crest.

Only a symbol.

A circle split by a descending line, with three small marks beneath it.

I did not recognize it. That annoyed me immediately.

It meant this thing has escaped the information network of the Konstantin.

"That one," I said.

Marcellus’s eyes flickered.

The empress looked toward the box.

Whe the Crown Prince followed my gaze.

Abi did not move.

That was the most concerning reaction of all.

"What is inside that box?" I asked.

Marcellus clasped his hands. "A relic of uncertain origin."

"That was not an answer."

"It is sealed for safety."

"Also not an answer."

The empress spoke. "It contains a fragment recovered from the foundation site beneath the palace."

The Crown Prince turned to her. "You knew of this?"

"Yes."

His jaw tightened. But she did not apologize.

Well, family dinners must be a delight.

"What kind of fragment is it?" I asked.

"Stone," she said. "Or bone. The records disagree."

Stone or bone?

How could records disagree on that unless the object enjoyed being an inconvenience of unknown origin?

"Open it," I said.

Marcellus immediately replied, "That would be inadvisable." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"I did not ask if it was advisable."

The keeper’s tone cooled. "The wards have not been disturbed in decades."

"Then it’s high time we do so. They must have been bored."

Abi snorted softly.

The empress studied me. "Why do you wish to see it, Grand Duke?"

"Because of everyone’s reaction to it. It seems a curious little thing."

"Reaction?"

"Yes."

A faint smile touched her mouth. "Your mother must be proud."

"My mother would have already opened it."

"I see, then perhaps you are more restrained."

"What a cruel thing to say, Your Majesty."

For some reason, the Crown Prince looked as if he wanted to laugh again.

Marcellus, however, was clearly not amused.

The empress finally inclined her head. "Open it."

"Your Majesty," Marcellus began.

"Open it," she repeated.

The keeper fell silent.

For a moment, I thought he might refuse. I’m going to admire his guts for a moment if he did. This was the mother of the empire commanding him, after all.

That would have been interesting.

Alas, he chose obedience. He stepped forward, serpent key in hand, and touched the wards. One by one, they dimmed. The process was precise, careful, and too practiced for someone who claimed the box had not been disturbed in decades.

What a liar.

I filed that away.

When the final ward faded, the lid opened.

The air changed. I was actually waiting if there would be bursts of dark smoke, screaming ghosts, or skeletal hand reaching for an ankle like a poorly written stage horror.

Sadly, there was none.

Instead, the cold vanished.

For one breath, the vault became warm.

It was a warmth that brushed across the skin like sunlight remembered by stone.

Then it was gone.

Inside the box lay a small fragment no larger than my palm.

It looked like black glass at first, translucent at the edges and dark at the center. Golden veins ran through it, pulsing faintly beneath the surface. Its shape was irregular, but one side was unnaturally smooth, almost as if it had been broken from something far larger.

Stone? Perhaps. It looked like it

Bone? Possible as well.

Neither? Maybe.

I stared at it.

The world suddenly narrowed and for the briefest second, sound thinned around me.

The vault, the empress, the Crown Prince, Marcellus, even Abi, all of it seemed to move farther away.

Images stirred in my sight.

I saw a field of white flowers under a sky full of falling lights.

A hand reached toward mine with a voice laughing and saying a name I could not hear.

Then there was blood followed by silence.

I felt the sensation of wings burning somewhere far away.

I blinked and the vault returned.

My expression remained calm.

Of course it did. My face was disciplined enough to survive natural disasters at this point, courtesy of Lady Konstantin’s maternal scrutiny.

But inside, I felt deeply offended.

What was that?

Why did it happen?

And who gave this ugly little fragment permission to rummage through my mind?

"Brother."

Abi’s voice was low and sounded strange.

I turned slightly.

He was watching me with an expression I had not seen before.

Fear? No, not quite.

Grief? Impossible.

This was Abi. His emotional range, as far as I had observed, consisted primarily of amusement, irritation, hunger, and theatrical betrayal.

Yet now...

Now he looked as if he had seen something he had spent centuries refusing to remember.

How troublesome.

"Do you recognize it?" I asked him.

Abi’s smile returned at the question. But it was utterly fake.

Who was this Jinn trying to fool?

"Should I?"

I looked at him.

He looked back.

Ah.

So even he was lying too.

Wow. This household and these palace people were all testing my patience with their secrets.

The Crown Prince noticed the exchange. He was getting better at that. Unfortunately for him, noticing did not mean understanding.

Marcellus reached toward the box. "As you can see, the relic is of uncertain nature. It has no recorded function, nor has it reacted to any standard method of examination."

"Don’t be in a hurry to close it," I said.

His hand stopped, hovering above the box and eventually moving away.

I leaned closer, careful not to touch the fragment.

The golden veins pulsed.

Once. Twice. Then stilled.

"Has it ever reacted to aura?" I asked.

Marcellus hesitated.

"No."

"Mana?"

"No."

"Blood?"

The empress looked at me.

Marcellus’s expression tightened.

Oh?

"Has it?" I asked again.

The keeper answered too slowly. "There are no such records."

Not outright no. Just that there were no records.

Those two are different.

"You are very careful about certain things," I commented.

The Crown Prince’s gaze sharpened. "Lord Keeper?"

Marcellus bowed. "Your Highness, old relics have been subject to many examinations across generations. Not all of them were properly recorded."

"That’s convenient," the Crown Prince said.

I almost smiled proudly at this remark, which would have been strange and unacceptable.

The empress’s gaze rested on her son for a long moment. There was something in it that looked almost like approval, but buried beneath too many layers to be easily named.

Perhaps she was not opposed to his growing teeth.

Perhaps she merely wanted to see who he bit first.

What a dangerous woman.

I liked her more than expected.

That was unfortunate.

I stepped back from the box. "This should not remain here."

Marcellus stiffened. "Pardon?"

"You heard me."

"This relic belongs to the imperial archives."

"This relic predates your empire."

"Nevertheless, it was found beneath the palace foundation and has remained under imperial protection for generations."

"And what a splendid job that protection has done. No one knows what it is, records are missing, examination methods are incomplete, and your keeper lies with the subtlety of a child hiding sweets."

The silence became absolute.

The Crown Prince looked like he had stopped breathing.

Marcellus’s face went cold. And the empress laughed softly once.

Everyone looked at her.

She covered the sound with the grace of someone who did not regret it in the slightest.

"Your Excellency really is as direct as rumored."

"I am gentler than rumored, I dare say."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"That is because the rumors lack imagination."

Marcellus looked as if he had swallowed a blade.

"Your Majesty," he said carefully, "with all due respect, the relic cannot be removed."

"I did not suggest stealing it," I said.

"That is reassuring."

"I only suggested it should not remain in incompetent hands."

"Your Excellency."

His tone had a warning now. The snake was showing a fang.

I smiled. How dare he?

"Lord Keeper."

The blue-white lamps flickered once.

But Abi moved, it was not visible to ordinary eyes, perhaps, but I caught it. There was a slight shift in his stance. His body angled closer to mine. His expression sharpened, the shallow amusement in his eyes gone entirely.

The fragment in the box pulsed again.

This time, the gold veins glowed brighter.

The Crown Prince swayed.

It was subtle. But I saw that his face lost color for one brief moment, and his fingers curled against his palm as if gripping pain.

The hidden ’illness’ was reacting.

Without thinking, I stepped toward him.

Annoying.

My body kept doing decent things before consulting my villainous intentions.

"Your Highness," I said.

He straightened immediately. "I am fine."

A practiced lie.

The empress’s face did not change, but her eyes did.

Marcellus looked at the Crown Prince, then at the box with a quick and knowing glance.