But Eric clearly had no intention of listening to my answer.
“If this bastard hadn’t passed out, you would’ve been arrested by the Royal Guard, Emelline Wedgwood.”
He bent down, picked up the glass slipper lying next to the unconscious man, and strode over to me—then dropped to one knee in front of me. I cleared my throat awkwardly, suddenly flushing red.
Wait, what? Was he… kneeling to put the shoe on me?
“Put it on.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
Eric placed the slipper at my feet and stood back up. With a face full of fatigue, he watched silently as I slipped it on.
The moment I finished, he shot me a sharp look.
“Why did you even come here? Do you have any idea what’s up here? Did you follow that disgrace of a Marquis’s son without knowing a thing?”
“You know that guy?”
I pointed at the man collapsed at the base of the stairs. Eric gave a curt nod.
“He was the one making a fool of himself downstairs earlier.”
“Downstairs…? So, he didn’t come from the Princess’s chambers…?”
Eric’s brow furrowed. “The Princess’s chambers?”
Only then did I realize that the man I’d seen earlier hadn’t come from the Princess’s room. He must’ve come up from the dining hall below. Then… who was the man I
did
see coming out of her room?
My thoughts churned as I glanced between the unconscious man and Eric. Plain jacket. No ornamentation. That guy who came out of the Princess’s room was dressed
exactly
like…
I narrowed my eyes.
“You were the one who came out of her room, weren’t you? Tell me I’m wrong.”
Eric took a step back, clearly flustered.
“Silence.”
He snapped, then muttered irritably, as if annoyed with himself for backing off.
I shook my head in disbelief.
So much for his holier-than-thou act—turns out
he’s
the one fooling around with the Princess. I glared at him, but my annoyance quickly shifted to the man still sprawled on the floor.
I stormed over.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Hey, hey! So you’re not even her cultivation partner?”
I jabbed the man’s cheek with the tip of my shoe, but he didn’t even twitch. He was properly knocked out cold.
…Is he dead?
Eric stepped in front of me.
“What do you think you’re doing? You came up here without even knowing what this place is?”
“I
do
know. Four walls, a soft bed, no windows…”
I muttered, staring up at the stairs. Eric’s face and ears turned red at my words. He grumbled under his breath.
“Why do they all come here, knowing exactly what it is…”
What the hell? He knew too when he came here. Why is he acting like he’s above it all?
My brain was now full of vivid and unwanted images of the Princess and Eric in a steamy night rendezvous. And then a very dangerous plan bloomed in my head—
A grand scheme to blow up this wedding…
Come to think of it, I did come here to catch the Princess’s man in the act. And now…
I looked Eric up and down like he was a prized spiritual beast ready for auction. Tall. Broad shoulders. That aura…
Then Eric suddenly exploded.
“You knew what this place was, and still came here three days before your mother’s wedding? How many more scandals do you need to cause before you're satisfied?! You acted like you cared so much about her—was that all an act too?”
His fury twisted my face into a scowl.
And the personality? Rotten.
Seriously, this guy had the gall to stand there and yell at me when
he
was the one sneaking out of the Princess’s chambers right before the wedding of his own father. This was hypocrisy cultivated to Nascent Soul level.
I stood there gaping, lost for words, and Eric grabbed my arm, dragging me away.
Guess he decided it was time we escaped the scene of the crime.
“What do you think will happen if word gets out that the daughter of your mother, on her wedding day, was caught causing a scandal at
Roses that Bloom at Night
, nearly stabbed a noble cultivator, and was arrested by the Royal Guard?”
Eric d’Orléans spoke in a stern, chastising tone.
But I’d had enough. The lid on my temper blew clean off.
I slapped his hand away and shouted at him.
“Yeah?! Well isn’t that
just perfect
! I was already planning to ruin my mother’s wedding anyway—!”
Just as I yanked away from his grip, I slipped on the staircase.
Eric lunged forward, trying to catch me. His hand wrapped around my waist, but he was a heartbeat too slow.
The next thing we knew, both our bodies tilted at an awkward and precarious angle.
Our faces were suddenly so close, I could feel his breath.
As I stared at Eric’s annoyingly handsome features, a thought crossed my mind:
Maybe personality really isn’t everything…
That was when something slipped out from inside Eric’s coat.
Thunk.
A sealed envelope dropped to the floor.
And the moment it hit the ground, I saw it clearly.
That envelope…
My heart pounded in my ears.
It was a familiar envelope—one I’d seen before.
I immediately reached for it, not caring if I ended up tumbling to the ground.
Eric instinctively tightened his grip on my waist, but that only made it harder for him to stop me from snatching it up.
The moment I got my hands on it, I sprang to my feet and bolted up the stairs.
“Return that. Now,” Eric commanded sharply.
“Nope!” I shouted over my shoulder.
He reached out with those annoyingly long arms of his, but I darted higher up the stairwell.
Judging by his expression, chasing after me was the last thing he wanted to do.
At the landing, a massive ceremonial candle burned brightly, casting flickering shadows across the walls—
as if symbolizing the burning desires of the noble disciples who frequented this pleasure hall.
Eric ground his teeth from below and snapped,
“Do you even know what you’re holding?”
“I do. I know
exactly
what this is,” I replied, eyes locked on the envelope.
Eric must’ve sensed something was off from the intensity in my gaze, because he abandoned his pride and ascended the steps after me.
“Lady Emelline Wedgwood,” he said, trying to reason with me like I was some naive child. “You’re gravely mistaken. That document… it contains things you have no business laying eyes on, not in this lifetime.”
I brought the envelope dangerously close to the candlelight.
Eric’s voice sharpened.
“You’re not the type to play with fire… are you?”
“I
am
that type, actually,” I replied without hesitation.
Then, without delay, I pulled the documents from the envelope and held them over the flame.
Eric lunged, but it was already too late.
A trail of acrid smoke filled the corridor.
“What in the heavens are you doing, Emelline?!” he roared.
“Emelline! Get up. Take those documents and run to the back alley—get to the nearest constable’s post!”
I remembered my mother’s pale, stricken face.
I remembered myself, fleeing with her jewels tucked under my arm.
Then came the sound of gunfire.
And I remembered what I saw when I opened that envelope: translucent writing, slowly emerging on the page.
Even in dreams, and even after waking, I knew what that ink was.
When I was once forced to manage account ledgers under loan sharks, I learned about invisible ink techniques.
First, you coat the parchment with a special solution. Then, you write with a compound that vanishes as it dries.
To the naked eye, the page appears blank.
But when exposed to high heat, the writing reveals itself—like ghostly script from a hidden realm.
And once it appears, it cannot be erased… not unless touched by water.
That was the secret hidden in the Duke’s documents.
The secret that held all his transgressions.
I covered my mouth and held up the document for Eric to see. The moment his eyes scanned the faint, translucent writing illuminated by candlelight, he froze.
Among the ghostlike script glowing on the page, I spotted the clearest name and read it aloud.
“Robert von Denik…
Twenty million gold.”
A cold smile crept across my lips as I pointed at the seal—Robert’s personal crest, stamped cleanly onto the ledger.
Found it.
This was the proof that the Duke of Orléans was conspiring in rebellion with Robert.
Yes.
In my dream, the Duke’s secret scrolls contained damning evidence: that he and the second-ranked prince in the line of succession were plotting a coup. And that rebellion required the coastal lands left behind by Viscount Wedgwood.
Eric, still staring at the pages in confusion, caught sight of my smile—and snatched the document from my hands.
I didn’t resist. I slowly lowered the hand covering my mouth. Things were under control now.
“…What is this? How did you…?”
“It’s a common trick used by loan sharks in the southern provinces when they prepare false ledgers.”
“…False… ledgers?”
Eric pressed his forehead, a vein bulging at his temple as his eyes flickered with shock. He clearly wasn’t ready for this level of political backstabbing.
I folded my arms, watching quietly. By now, I had only one question left.
“Why would this bastard… hide something like this?”
Eric leaned against the wall, clearly dazed. He didn’t even have the strength left to reprimand me for my tone.
“How many times have I told you to cover your nose and mouth when heating invisible ink, Emelline! You'll pass out otherwise—unless you’re some legendary Aura Cultivator or something!”
Eric’s body began to sway.
Guess he wasn’t quite Aura Cultivator level after all.
Still, he lasted longer than most. A regular man would've dropped nearly two minutes ago—
Thud.
Eric dropped to one knee before me. I shrugged.
That’s more like it.
He glared at me with the expression of a fallen protagonist glaring up at the villain—bloodshot crimson eyes, more vivid than ever.
“You… what the hell are you… Emelline Wedgwood… you… you…”
I crouched down in front of him and gently pulled his chin up with a finger.
“Just sleep it off. You'll feel better when you wake.”
“…You crazy woman…”
Thump.
The next moment, Eric’s head slumped limply into my arms.
Chapter 14