“A secret chamber?” Rhea asked, eyes wide.

  “Yes, a secret chamber,” Lloyd repeated, grinning with barely-concealed smug satisfaction. The guy was clearly enjoying himself. “As you all probably know, after the Dark Emperor’s death, this castle was left to crumble. Looters and treasure hunters came one after another and stripped everything bare. But there’s still one room no one has been able to locate. Never found. Never touched.”

  Rhea’s breath hitched. “So... it’s still hidden? After centuries?”

  “Sealed by the Tyrant’s own hand, or so the story goes. Only a select few he trusted knew the way.”

  “That’s just baseless rumors,” Jeanne scoffed. “The same kind of ghost story they tell back in Daelin to keep people away from this pce.”

  “It’s not baseless,” Lloyd said. “Just think about it. This is a fortress built with multiple yers of defense, and you believe there isn’t at least one or two hidden safe rooms or secret passages?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But specution about its existence without any concrete evidence is just a waste of time.”

  Viktor observed the exchange with mild amusement. The thought of others debating a mystery inside his own castle struck him as strangely entertaining. It was like watching a bunch of kids squabbling over a toy he buried ages ago. He sat back and let them talk. He wondered how far they would push this tale.

  “Of course there is no hard evidence,” Lloyd said. Reaching into the folds of his cloak, the man pulled out a bottle. He popped the cork, then took a swig. “If it were easy to find, someone would’ve stumbled across it ages ago. But you have to look between the lines. Dissect the old tales. Take the story of Princess Celestia...”

  Oh?

  Rhea twitched, then shot a quick gnce at Viktor, probably recalling the little chat they had back in the courtyard.

  “Princess Celestia?” Jeanne asked.

  “Oh, come on,” Lloyd said. “Everyone knows that story. Even you must have heard the songs.”

  “Yes, I did. The princess from Brefjord. Forced to marry the Dark Emperor, right?”

  Rhea blinked. “Forced to?”

  “If you believe the bards,” Lloyd replied. “That’s how their songs go. The Tyrant was so struck by her beauty that he demanded the King of Brefjord send her to him like a tribute. A living prize to his vanity.”

  Viktor suppressed a chuckle. That was pure nonsense, of course, considering that he didn’t even know what she looked like until well after the deal was struck.

  On the other hand, it was true that their retionship didn’t begin with love. Instead, it was just pure politics. After he took the throne of Lyndor, he found out that being king wasn’t just about removing the predecessor with extreme prejudice. Apparently, legitimacy was important. And his advisors proposed that he should marry a foreign princess. So ambassadors talked, documents were signed, and a week before the wedding, he finally met the woman who would become his wife.

  “Is that true?” Rhea asked, gncing his way again. Confused, probably. Torn between the two versions of the story she had been told. Well, whatever. Let people believe whatever suited them, he couldn’t care less.

  “Of course it is,” Jeanne replied. “He was a monster. He impaled people. Who the hell would marry someone like that willingly?”

  “He... impaled people?” Rhea’s voice cracked, her eyes wide with shock.

  “Yes, that’s what he did to the Lyndorian royal family after he usurped the throne,” Lloyd said. He leaned toward the girl, eyes glinting. “Lined them up,” he whispered. “King, queen, princes, princesses. Didn’t matter. One by one, they were dragged out and shoved onto the stakes. They all died screaming. While the whole city watched.”

  Rhea stared, trembling. The color had drained from her face, leaving her skin a sickly shade of gray. Her chest rose and fell, too fast, too shallow. As if she were there herself, among them, waiting for her turn.

  That part of the story, well, did happen. In fact, out of everything Viktor had done, that was the one thing he regretted the least. If anything, he wished he had been a little more thorough. Because he had let a single brat slip away. And that same brat would return years ter, with five other fools who called themselves Heroes.

  “You’re scaring her,” Jeanne said, throwing at Lloyd a gre that could cut stone.

  “Hey, you’re the one who brought up the impaling. I just provided the colorful details.”

  “Anyway,” Jeanne cut him off. “I thought we were talking about a secret chamber. How the hell do we get from that to this?”

  “Ah, yes, the chamber.” Lloyd took another swig from his bottle, then dabbed his mouth with his handkerchief. “According to the songs, Princess Celestia was forced to marry the Dark Emperor. But she was not some helpless damsel in distress. No, she was a brave woman. She refused to let fate push her around. So she used the only weapon she had. Her beauty, her charm. She pyed to the Tyrant ego. Won his trust. Slowly, carefully...”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jeanne interrupted. “She learned his secrets. She stole his Reliquaries. That’s how the final battle tipped in the Heroes’ favor, right? Tell us something we don’t already know.” She waved her hand like she was swatting away smoke. “I still don’t see what any of this has to do with some secret room.”

  Viktor chuckled. Did those stupid bards seriously write songs about Celestia seducing him? Celestia, of all people? If she had ever been a seductress, she must have been a terrible one. He knew, because he had dealt with more than his fair share of seductresses. Damn those succubi! May their charcoal rest in peace.

  Come to think of it, most of their years together had been... strained. Not miserable, but not exactly joyful either. An awkward truce. They tolerated each other’s presence and went on doing what was expected of a king and a queen. Stood where they were meant to stand, said what they were meant to say, held each other’s hands while waving and smiling at people. They pyed the roles of husband and wife, not too different from how he was pying the role of a younger brother right now.

  And then... well, that happened. He had thought it would be the end. Of the marriage, of the charade. And truth be told, the him back then was not entirely opposed to that outcome.

  But... somehow, it worked out.

  “As I said, read between the lines.” Lloyd drank again. “Don’t focus not on what’s there, but what’s not there.”

  Jeanne gave him a ft look. “Such as?”

  “The ending.” The man set his bottle down. “Everyone talks about how she stole the Reliquaries, how she escaped the castle. But then what? No one ever found out what became of her. There’s not a single line in any official record about her fate after the fall of the Empire.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “What if...” Lloyd leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper, barely more than a breath. “...she never made it out? What if she’s still here? In this castle. After three hundred years.”

  Ridiculous!

  Rhea froze in pce, her body going rigid as if she had been petrified on the spot. Jeanne, on the other hand, was unmoved. “You’ve got a wild imagination, don’t you?”

  “I’m just using logic,” Lloyd said. “They cimed Celestia fled the castle the same night the Heroes stormed it. But how? You think she just walked out the main gate while deadly spells were flying everywhere? Have you seen the courtyard? Even stone got melted.”

  Jeanne didn’t answer.

  “No,” the man in green continued. “If I were her, I’d find a pce to hide. A safe room. One of the hidden ones the Tyrant built. He trusted her, so he told her where they were. She pnned to wait out the battle. But maybe something went wrong, and she got trapped. And no one knew where she was to come rescue her.”

  Rhea swallowed hard. Her voice trembled when she spoke. “You’re telling me... the princess’s body might still be here? Somewhere in this castle?”

  “Or she escaped and lived quietly somewhere, keeping a low profile,” Jeanne scoffed. “That’s a neat little fairy tale, but you’ve got a hole in it, Lloyd. If Celestia was trapped, then the Reliquaries she took with her would’ve been stuck here as well. But we know they got out. They ended up in the hands of every bastard with a bit of power. The so-called Tyrant’s Legacy.”

  “Of course I know about them,” Lloyd said with a hint of amusement, as if she had just stated the obvious. “But how can you be so sure that all of them got out? Celestia was just one woman. Do you think she could’ve hauled the entire collection by herself? No. She could only take one or two. And what do you think she would’ve picked?”

  “The most powerful ones?”

  “Exactly. The ones that mattered most. The ones that had helped the Tyrant conquer the whole world.”

  “So let me get this straight. What you’re saying is, in this castle, there’s a secret room where Celestia’s remains might be, along with the most powerful Reliquaries that ever existed? And that’s what you’re trying to find?”

  Lloyd grinned. “Yes, what do you think?”

  “I think that you’re drunk,” Jeanne said, looking at the red blotches blooming across the man’s cheeks. She turned to Viktor, half-smirking. “Hey, Quinn, you’ve been awfully quiet through all this. What’s your—?”

  She stopped.

  The words hung there, unfinished.

  Her smile faded.

  Huh? What was that about? So he asked, voice as neutral as ever, “What’s the matter?”

  Jeanne’s voice was quiet. “Um... you look a bit... scary.”

  Did he? He couldn’t see his own face, so he didn’t know. But how could he look that way? He was perfectly calm right now. He was not angry. At all.

  [Are you upset, Master?]

  No, Viktor replied. Why would I be? Because of a drunk’s ramblings? Please. I’m above that.

  [You are upset because there might be some truth in what he said.]

  His jaw clenched.

  What truth? he snapped. That Celestia stole from me? That I couldn’t fight without some Reliquaries? You know that’s utter nonsense.

  While those trinkets were certainly useful when he was still an adventurer, as his Thaumaturgy grew stronger, he needed them less and less. By the time the whole world knelt to him and called him Emperor, they were little more than decoration in his throne room. Fancy toys for a man who had already won.

  [They don’t know your secrets, so of course the details are wrong. But the fact is, you gave Brandt to Celestia. And that was the only reason you lost to the Six Heroes.]

  Viktor’s mind came to a sudden halt. He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t.

  Because it was true.

  Even though it was six against one, the battle had been close. And Brandt was just as powerful as him, so if they had been together, it wouldn’t even have been a fight, but a one-sided sughter.

  Are you trying to bme Celestia for my death?

  [I am saying you died because you prioritized her safety over your own.]

  No. I died because I was overconfident. Because I believed that I could win without Brandt.

  Viktor stood up. He had decided that he didn’t want to be in this pce anymore.

  “This has been a lovely lunch,” he said, forcing a smile. “But I’ve got a few things to take care of this afternoon, so I have to head back now.”

  Rhea blinked. “What about me?”

  “You can come with me, or stay here and go back ter on your own. Your choice.”

  She hesitated, clearly torn. Obviously, she didn’t want to return yet, but didn’t want to walk through the ruined city alone either.

  “But... but I haven’t talked with Jeanne yet.”

  “I think you’ve made your point clear. Now it’s up to her to decide if she accepts it or not. Or do you want to force your opinion on her?”

  “I... I...”

  Viktor couldn’t be bothered to wait for her decision. He gave a brief nod to Jeanne and Lloyd, then turned on his heel and walked away.

  “Alright, alright, I’ll go with you.” Looking over his shoulder, he saw Rhea gulp down the st of her stew, then grab a portion of meatwrap before scrambling to her feet.

  Not sparing her a second gnce, he made his way to the throne room.

  But once he got there, he halted, his eyes sweeping over the empty dais where the throne had once stood.

  Beneath it y the secret door. The one that Lloyd had suspected existed, the one Viktor knew all too well. A door that only opened to those who knew the password. A secret he had kept for himself and only a handful of others. Three, to be exact, including Celestia.

  But there was no chamber beyond the door. Instead, there was a tunnel. A hidden route that led to a concealed harbor at the rear of the castle.

  That night, he handed Brandt to Celestia and told her to hide in the tunnel. If the worst happened, she was to get the boat and escape into the Voskryn, then go somewhere safe. Back to Brefjord, perhaps.

  But what if... what if Lloyd were right, and she—

  “Quinn, what's the problem?” Rhea’s voice cut through his thoughts, breathless from running to catch up with him.

  No, it’s ridiculous.

  “Nothing,” he said ftly. “Let’s go.”