Chapter 223

Unlike the outer wall reinforced with pitch-black iron plating, the sight that greeted us inside was dazzlingly beautiful.

An enormous garden stretched endlessly along both sides of the path leading from the main gate to the palace building.

Perfectly trimmed trees and flowerbeds overflowing with colorful blossoms decorated the grounds without a single thing out of place. At the center of the garden stood a fountain that added vitality to the scenery.

The beautiful landscape drew my eye, but I focused solely on Morpha's back as they walked ahead.

Following Morpha, we arrived before the towering palace building, where a formally dressed chamberlain greeted us.

His completely white hair and elegant bearing revealed the refinement of age.

"Welcome, Lord Litmus. We have been expecting you."

Morpha, still acting as Beloan, merely glanced at him without answering.

In reality, they simply couldn't greet a man whose name they didn't know, but outwardly it made them appear like an aloof and noble aristocrat.

Guided by the chamberlain, we walked through the palace corridors. The interior surpassed extravagance and entered the realm of absurd opulence.

The ceilings glittered beneath layers of gold leaf, while enormous framed paintings and expensive ornaments decorated every wall.

Suddenly, I recalled the royal palace of Dravergh I had seen in Belzena.

Unlike that place, which had been adorned with the natural beauty of the world itself, Laskar's palace felt overwhelmingly artificial, as though it had been plastered over with money.

While I was lost in thought, Morpha, walking ahead, suddenly stopped with a brief sigh.

"Ah, I left my luggage in the carriage. Patrick, go retrieve it."

As Morpha turned and spoke, Crow bowed deeply.

Along with him, three attendants retraced the path we had come from.

I watched the departing rebels' backs. At the end of the corridor, a young female cleaner waited for them.

That was probably Moka, newly infiltrated into the royal palace.

After the group assigned to investigate the underground prison departed, we resumed walking down the corridor.

The dress shoes we wore to maintain our noble disguises struck the marble floor with sounds louder than horseshoes.

After passing through endlessly long hallways and climbing dozens of staircases, we finally arrived at the far end of the second floor of the palace.

Unlike the other rooms, the crimson velvet doors stretched all the way to the ceiling.

No explanation was necessary to know this was the king's bedroom.

Facing the tightly shut doors, the chamberlain spoke politely through the gap.

"Lord Litmus has arrived."

As though they had been waiting, the massive doors opened immediately.

Apparently guards stood inside operating them, because despite their visible weight, the movement was smooth.

As the pair of doors opened halfway, the interior was revealed.

Following the instructions Morpha had drilled into us beforehand, we immediately lowered our heads respectfully.

A middle-aged woman approached Morpha, who stood at the front.

"Welcome, Lord Litmus. His Majesty has only just awakened."

Her gentle voice overflowed with concern.

I wanted to look around the room, but since everyone except Morpha maintained a bowed posture, I didn't raise my head.

Instead, I sharpened all five senses, trying to grasp the atmosphere of King Laskar's bedroom.

The first things I noticed were the luxurious, subtle fragrance and the rustling sound of blankets.

"How is His Majesty's condition?"

"There has been no improvement. The headaches are still severe, and he cannot eat. With each passing day, he sleeps longer and longer."

In response to Morpha's monotone questions, the woman smoothly rattled off answers without pause.

At her words, my brows faintly furrowed.

Her way of speaking felt strange for someone who merely attended the king at close range.

Then, from the farthest corner of the bedroom, a weak voice drifted out.

"Nurse, that's enough. I'm not a child."

Hearing the voice for the first time, my eyes widened beneath my lowered head.

That single sentence was enough to throw me into confusion.

Judging from the conversation, the one who had just spoken was undoubtedly King Laskar.

But the voice that reached my ears sounded astonishingly young.

He had even called the woman explaining his condition nurse.

Among nobles and royalty, it was common to have a nursemaid who cared for children in place of their parents.

However, once they reached adulthood, it was normal to naturally grow distant from one's nursemaid.

All the clues pointed toward a single conclusion.

King Laskar was a young boy.

"It's been a long time, Beloan."

"I am relieved to see Your Majesty again. Are you experiencing any discomfort?"

The young king greeted Morpha first, and Morpha responded skillfully.

Laskar called out to Morpha in a benevolent voice.

"Thanks to you, I have no discomfort. Come closer."

At the king's summons, Morpha straightened from their bow.

Following them, the rest of us were finally able to raise our heads as well.

I cast my gaze deeper into the room.

I thought I would finally see Laskar immediately, but a canopy draped over his bed.

The silhouette visible beyond the thin fabric looked small and fragile.

No matter how I looked at it, it resembled not a majestic king, but the shadow of a sickly young boy.

To keep my anxiety from showing, I bit hard into the inside of my cheek.

The preconceptions I had built up over so long were collapsing apart inside me.

"Your Majesty, have you skipped your meals again?"

Beloan had supposedly served as King Laskar's personal physician for more than ten years.

Perhaps because of that, Morpha adopted a tone both respectful and familiar.

Behind the veil of fabric, the king's thin shoulders shook with soft laughter.

"The heat has merely ruined my appetite."

"Then it seems you require food that restores both appetite and strength."

"That's enough. I've caused too many people to worry."

Laskar's voice was youthful, but the way he treated those beneath him was natural and composed.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

Wind drifting in through the open window stirred the curtains around the bed, and through the shifting fabric I could almost glimpse the king's face.

Then Laskar tilted his head slightly.

"And who are those who came with you?"

"My sons, Your Majesty. They wished to greet you personally, so I have dared to bring them here despite the impropriety."

"Impropriety? Nonsense. If they are your sons, then of course they should greet me."

Subtle delight colored Laskar's voice.

He seemed pleased by the visit of unfamiliar faces.

The rustling of blankets echoed through the room. As Laskar rose from the bed, an attendant beside him knelt to slip slippers onto his feet.

The closer King Laskar came, the more violently my heart pounded.

It felt loud enough that anyone nearby could hear it.

Laskar lifted a thin hand and drew aside the canopy curtains.

The moment the king revealed himself, Theo immediately bowed deeply.

Varen and I followed a beat later.

Forced to stare at the floor again, I bit my teeth together in frustration.

That damned Laskar. Who would've thought seeing his face even once would be this difficult.

"The journey here must have been tiring. You all seem vigorous, just like the Litmus family."

The young king's benevolent voice gradually approached.

I desperately restrained the urge to immediately lift my head.

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty. I am Kairen, eldest son of the Litmus family."

Theo, playing the role of the eldest son, introduced himself first.

As someone born a noble, observing proper etiquette before the king came naturally to him.

Following Theo, Varen and I also introduced ourselves under the names of the Litmus family.

I had to tighten my throat to keep my voice from trembling with tension.

Once the three sons had finished greeting him, Laskar let out a pleased laugh.

"You may raise your heads now."

At his words, Theo and Varen straightened.

I forced my stiff body to move.

The heart that had pounded endlessly since earlier now felt close to stopping altogether.

My pulse throbbed through my entire body, and ringing filled my ears instead of ordinary sound.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

And finally, I was able to see King Laskar's face.

"......"

Just as I had expected from hearing his voice, he did not look like an adult at all.

He was a youthful boy in his late teens.

Whether the rumors about his unexplained illness were true or not, the shoulders beneath his white robe were frighteningly thin.

Milky pale skin, dark brown hair, and delicate, sickly features contrasted sharply with his strikingly handsome face.

Wearing a welcoming smile, Laskar introduced himself in a tone far too friendly for someone of his status.

"It is good to meet all of you. I am the king of this nation and the eldest son of the Laskar family, Berius."

Berius.

The moment I heard the king's personal name for the first time, it felt as though all the blood drained from my body.

At the same time, the conversation Varen and I had shared so happily the night before flashed through my mind.

"Ceryl, if that child were reborn as a human, how would you recognize him?"

"I'm sure of it. I'd recognize him just by his eyes."

At that moment, Berius's gaze turned toward me.

Clear, transparent brown eyes that revealed a pure soul despite wearing a human form.

The instant I met those straightforward eyes, untouched by even a speck of falsehood, an indescribable certainty seized me.

"...Berry."

The word escaped like a groan through my constricted throat.

At my call, the king's brows twitched upward as he smiled.

"Hmm, Berry. It's been a long time since I've heard that name."

"......"

"It was the childhood name I used when I was young. But how do you know that name?"

Perhaps he really had fallen into this world together with me.

If so, then the only family I had ever wished would be reborn healthy as a human now stood directly before my eyes.