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Chapter 233
Just as Richard had said.
Rosalia claimed that once her husband ascended the throne, he would release Teresa, but that promise was never kept.
Teresa remained imprisoned behind those high walls until the day she died, never again stepping into the outside world.
Her quarters were a place where time stood still.
The sins and mistakes Teresa had committed, her anger, resentment, and longing—all of it remained, unweathered and intact, festering with her in that space.
In the end, it wasn’t the fire that killed Teresa.
She was strangled by all of that.
“His Majesty the Emperor did not grant permission…”
“But the mother I knew never knew the meaning of obedience.”
“She never showed it outwardly, but Her Majesty the Empress worked tirelessly behind the scenes for the princess’s sake.”
“Yes… Her Majesty the Empress was always so good at pretending she cared about my aunt.”
murmured Richard, almost in admiration.
The maids looked visibly upset, but none dared to argue further.
They clearly understood there was nothing to gain from going against the boy who would one day become emperor.
In the heavy silence that followed, Richard leaned his head back and rested it against the chair.
His thoughts drifted to the ruins he had visited earlier.
The palace where Teresa once stayed had burned so thoroughly that it was hard to recall what it once looked like.
Only the collapsed walls and charred pillars remained as faint traces of its former master.
They had managed to hold a funeral with what little remains they found, but no one could say for certain if those remains truly belonged to Teresa.
After all, all they recovered from the fire were fragments of half-melted bones.
Fragments too damaged to confirm an identity.
“I wonder if anyone got to see Aunt’s face one last time.”
muttered Richard, gazing down at the Empress’s veiled face.
By the time he arrived at the scene, the fire had already spread beyond control.
The grounds were chaos—people hauling buckets of water, voices calling out for those still trapped inside.
Overwhelmed by the blaze filling his vision, Richard could only stand there in shock, watching the flames consume the building.
He couldn’t even tell if the sweat on his neck was from the heat or from fear.
It all felt unreal.
That she had lived her entire life haunted by the grief of losing her daughter, only to die like this.
That her life had been filled with nothing but such meaningless time.
And now, their family would never again have the chance to kneel before her and beg for forgiveness…
Before something wet could spill from his eyes, Richard took a deep breath and straightened his posture.
When he opened his eyes again, the flickering flames that had hovered in his vision were gone.
He stood and said,
“I’ll return once Her Majesty the Empress wakes.”
The maids bowed respectfully as he departed.
Richard left the Empress’s chambers without looking back, just like his father once had.
In the end, he too was someone running from guilt.
As Richard neared the palace gates, he came upon a small commotion.
A familiar knight was in a heated exchange with the gatekeeper, standing right at the threshold.
He would have preferred to avoid the situation, but once they noticed him and quickly bowed in greeting, he could no longer pretend not to see.
Suppressing his irritation, Richard asked,
“What’s all this noise about?”
“Well, I explained that entry isn’t permitted right now, but the knight insisted on coming through anyway…”
The gatekeeper’s voice trailed off, troubled.
It was clear he was nervous about drawing the attention of someone of high rank for the wrong reasons.
The knight, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed.
“Forgive me. I have urgent news to relay to Her Majesty the Empress, so I rushed over without delay.”
It had already been five days since the Empress had taken to bed.
Today was the first time her condition had improved enough to allow limited visits, and it seemed the knight had assumed she was fully conscious again.
To come running the moment he heard she was awake…
Had the Empress entrusted him with something before she collapsed?
Whatever it was, it couldn’t be delivered if she wasn’t conscious.
Richard calmly explained the situation.
“Her Majesty has not yet regained consciousness. Don’t cause any more commotion—leave.”
He thought he had explained things clearly, yet the knight remained rooted in place, hesitant to turn away.
The gatekeeper now looked even more uncomfortable.
The knight asked again, this time directly addressing Richard,
“Her Majesty… she truly hasn’t awakened yet?”
“Are you suggesting I’d lie to you?”
“No, no, of course not! It was only… I wished more than anything that she would recover quickly. Please forgive my thoughtless words.”
Thankfully, the knight still had enough sense not to provoke Richard.
He bowed deeply and retreated with an apology.
As Richard watched him hurry off, he suddenly spoke up.
“Wait.”
The knight stopped in surprise and turned around.
Yes. That face.
That was the problem.
There was something about the knight’s uneasy expression that Richard couldn’t ignore.
“It seems you’re in a hurry. I’ll relay the message to my mother as soon as she wakes. So go ahead—what brings you here?”
“You mean… you, Your Highness?”
“Or should I perhaps escort the Empress herself, still bedridden, to come hear it from you?”
“But, Your Highness… this is something that must be delivered in secret…”
“Have you forgotten that I’m Her Majesty’s only child?”
Richard raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed.
The same troubled look from the gatekeeper now surfaced on the knight’s face.
Instead of offering an immediate answer, the knight bowed deeply in apology, clearly weighing whether this was something he could share with Richard.
Richard, for his part, waited patiently for the man’s judgment—composed, without the slightest trace of worry over whether the answer might be in his favor.
After all, he was the only son born of Rosalia and the Emperor.
That made Richard both the tool that had elevated the Empress to power and the only safeguard that allowed her to retain it.
Perhaps the Emperor might have cause to doubt Richard, but the Empress certainly wouldn’t—nor would her son have any reason to turn against her.
If Rosalia were to fall from grace, Richard, sharing her blood, would fall with her.
It seemed the knight reached the same conclusion. He lifted his head and looked at Richard with a solemn gaze.
“May I explain as we walk?”
Richard gave a small nod, his lips still curved in a polite smile.
To be willing to share a secret so quickly… It must either be truly urgent—or not worth much at all.
“So then, what’s this about?”
asked Richard as he followed the knight’s lead.
The knight asked if he could have the attendants step back, and once he confirmed no ears remained nearby, he finally spoke in a low voice.
“We believe we may have discovered the cause of the recent fire.”
Richard stopped dead in his tracks.
The formal smile that had lingered on his lips vanished in an instant.
He repeated the words as if he’d misheard them.
“…What?”
“There was a maid who escaped the palace during the fire. She attempted to leave the capital under a false identity but was caught. She’s currently being held in secret custody. The problem is… since her capture, she’s refused all food. It’s becoming a difficult situation, so I rushed to seek the Empress’s judgment on how to proceed.”
“Couldn’t she be investigated and brought to trial properly? Why the secrecy?”
asked Richard, his voice steady but firm.
The knight hesitated, then replied with a troubled tone.
“It’s just… we’re not certain who orchestrated it all…”
In other words, they were keeping the situation quiet because there was a chance the one who gave the maid her orders… was the Empress herself.
Richard let out a short, incredulous laugh.
The fact that even among her own people—those who acted as her hands and feet—there were now whispers of suspicion toward her… how laughable was that?
Even Richard himself could not say for sure whether the Empress had truly rushed into the flames to save Teresa or not.
‘You really lived your life the wrong way, Mother.’
he thought to himself, bitterly.
Then, his gaze sharpened as he asked the knight:
“Where is she now?”
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