Turning

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Chapter 169

His heart was roiling with a tumultuous mix of emotions. Relief that the event he had most dreaded from his past life didn't repeat itself; anxiety as he constantly calculated and weighed whether manifesting as an Omega with a scent was truly better than before; and fatigue from a body still running a slight fever. These emotions stirred into a complex blend within him.

However, when all these thoughts were pushed aside, there was one lingering residue.

The conversation he had with Kishiar during the pain of manifestation, the patience and consideration he had shown, and the unwavering smile he held till the end.

'If I were the Commander when this happened, could I have acted the same way?'

No, he couldn't have. They were too heavy burdens for one person to bear for a single member. Yet, these were the tasks that Kishiar accomplished without a hitch for Yuder. Yuder sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

There was nothing as futile as attributing meaning to each action of another. Yet, how could he not?

Separate from his resolve to do his best for Kishiar and the Cavalry after his return, he had set up a few walls in his heart to maintain an objective view of situations.

However, he eventually came to realize, far too late, that all the walls he had built were completely perforated. It was terribly disappointing, but strangely, it wasn't unpleasant.

The problem was that it was quite the opposite.

'If I didn't feel any pull after experiencing all this, that would be weirder.'

No matter how faint one's expression of emotion might be, being human, there are moments when one is seized by an emotion so massive it cannot be controlled. This was one of those moments.

'...Now that I think about it, I felt something like this before.'

An emotion that had been buried in the darkness after the accident caused by the manifestation. Yuder realized the name of the sensation that had returned after 11 years.

It was the blind fascination he felt when looking at the back of a shining being.

—---

The Harvest Festival abruptly ended with a murder at the special award ceremony party on the last day, which left a stench of blood in the air.

Who was the one that invited Lenore Shand Apeto to the party by sending a letter that day, and who killed him? Who was the one who tried to poison the Crown Prince's drink and what did they want? Many speculated secretly and loudly about these questions.

Even more suspicion arose when the servant who had dropped the Crown Prince's glass was found murdered without anyone noticing, to the point that it overshadowed the trial of the Apeto family by half.

Most people who took interest in the matter speculated that the Emperor was behind it all and that the executor was his brother, Duke Kishiar La Orr. The late-discovered letter of Lenore fueled that speculation.

If the Emperor really put Kishiar in the front to target the Crown Prince and the four great dukes, would they just sit by and let it happen? The Emperor, who until now had appeared to acknowledge the Crown Prince's existence without any friction, though perhaps only superficially, suddenly stirred up such a situation. The nobles carefully watched the movements on both sides, wondering what his intentions were and how the situation would evolve.

"His Majesty certainly would not have wanted to adopt a successor from the Diarca family. Weren't there many rumors of foul play from that family during the selection of the Crown Prince a few years ago? Although His Highness is still young and blameless, the Diarca family has been too audacious recently."

"I've heard about it too. Rumor has it that the Emperor would have preferred to choose someone from the Herne Ducal House, the Empress's family. Wasn't the candidate put forth by them suddenly died after being confirmed?"

"Was it only the candidate from the Herne family? Virtually all the other candidates who emerged at that time took a bad path."

"Even so, it's surprising. I wonder if His Majesty's health is finally improving."

Within the temple, filled more with whispers of curiosity than voices of mourning for the deceased, the funeral of Lenore Shand Apeto was about to begin.

It was a meager temple, far too modest for the scion of a renowned Ducal House, but there was no one truly grieving as most of the attendees were there only to observe an interesting situation.

Lenore's father, Duke Apeto, refused to attend for the reason that he did not want to open the doors of his closed family due to such a disgraceful event, and only Lenore's elder brother, the first prince, Aishes, sat with the relaxed face of a leisurely winner, enjoying the attention of those who came to flatter him.

Those observing them exchanged glances, hiding their mouths beneath their black veils, and made all sorts of speculation.

"Come to think of it, isn't the third son, his younger half-brother, not coming at all?"

"It wouldn't be strange if he didn't come, since he was entrusted to Duke Peletta. It's a pity. I wanted to see his reaction and what he would say."

"That's quite something too. If it's true that Duke Peletta has caused trouble, the third son would be shaking hands with the one who pushed his own brother to a dead end, wouldn't he?"

"That would make a great scandal. Then again, that might be what's noble about it."

"But when is the funeral supposed to start? It's already much later than when the coffin would have come at other times."

The same thought arose in the minds of others at a question suddenly blurted out by someone who had been chatting for a while.

"Indeed. When was it supposed to start? Noon, wasn't it?"

"Right. It's been a long time already. This is ridiculous. I had somewhere to go after the ceremony. If it gets any later, I'll just have to leave."

As the murmuring grew louder, Prince Aishes called a servant and ordered him to bring the priests in charge of the funeral. But the servant, who disappeared for a moment, reappeared with a pale face and dropped a piece of shocking news.

"I apologize, my lord! The coffin, on its way here, has reportedly encountered Prince Revlin and Duke Peletta and is currently at a standstill."

"What?"

A flash of anger and surprise crossed the frail-looking face of Aishes.

"What are you talking about? Revlin and Duke Peletta?"

"That is…."

As the servant hesitated, unable to continue, Aishes, frustrated, rose from his seat.

"Enough. I'll have to check it myself. Lead the way."

As Aishes hastily exited, the guests, who had been watching each other, also quietly rose from their seats and began to follow him. No one wanted to miss such a stimulating and excellent spectacle.

Aishes, advancing down the long corridor outside the temple, soon discovered two groups of people sharply confronting each other. He quickened his pace towards them.

"What on earth is happening?"

"This is Prince Aishes Shand Apeto!"

As Aishes's servant loudly announced his identity, the attention of those quarreling finally focused on them. On one side were laborers and priests carrying a black coffin, and on the other were a few individuals dressed in Cavalry uniforms and a remarkably tall and handsome man who stood out even from a distance.

Aishes recognized him straightaway as Duke Kishiar La Orr of Peletta, and he furrowed his brow. He had previously sent a letter to Duke Peletta offering assistance to contain Lenore. Now that Lenore was dead, the proposal had become unnecessary, yet the awkwardness could not be helped, knowing that fact.

"So, you are the first prince. This is the first time I've seen your face so close."

"...Yes, indeed. But what is all this about? My deceased brother's funeral has not yet taken place because of your interruption. If you don't provide a satisfactory answer, you will have to take full responsibility for this disrespectful action."

"I couldn't help it, you see. Regrettably, it was only this morning that I learned how the poor soul in that coffin might have died, so I rushed over here. Despite my request to take a quick look, they insist they absolutely cannot open the lid. What else could I do?"

"Excuse me?"

The reason Lenore had died.

"My brother died from drinking from a poisoned cup. You were there as well, if I recall correctly?"

Aishes retorted, trying not to show his confusion, maintaining a cautious demeanor.

"I thought so. Until a letter sent by Lenore Shand Apeto before his death reached Revlin, your youngest brother and also the one who had been a temporary member who greatly assisted me."

"...A letter?"

"I can't disclose the details at the moment as the investigation is ongoing. Since you are here, won't you allow me to open that coffin for a moment? If you do, I assure you, you will see that I didn't come here in vain."

As Kishiar smiled, the Cavalry member standing around him looked defiantly at the laborers carrying the coffin.

'Is it true? Or is this a bold political show staged because he's being accused of luring and killing Lenore? What should I do?'

The right course of action would normally be to halt the funeral and suggest they go somewhere private to talk, but Kishiar was already putting the Apeto family on trial even without that. Aishes did not want to risk incurring his father's wrath by being seen dealing with Kishiar alone at such a sensitive time.

However, then he noticed the commotion caused by the crowd of onlookers gathering behind them. Hearing their noisy chatter, which would usually have irritated him, finally calmed his startled heart.

'Right. It would be difficult for him to put on a sham or a bluff in front of so many watchful eyes. It's none of my business to defend the honor of the dead, I have no choice but to wrap things up here.'

"...I understand. It is not something I can ignore as you have come with information that could potentially reveal a new cause of death for my departed brother. I grant permission to open the coffin for a moment."

"Prince!"

One of the priests who was acquainted with Aishes cried out with a grim look on his face, but Aishes avoided his gaze.

"Put the coffin down!"

In the end, in the midst of the temple, under the curious gazes of the crowd, the unprecedented event of a coffin being opened occurred.

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