“His Majesty has already chosen to spare Kiole from the brink of death. What you’ve done is just another part of that same path. If it leads to something positive, so much the better. I doubt he’ll see it as anything negative.”

“If that’s how he’s likely to judge it, then I’m relieved...”

“And as for me, whatever you do—I truly don’t care. It’s always fine by me.”

Kishiar smiled faintly as he played with Yuder’s gloved hand.

“You’re worried because you think I might be forcing myself to suppress my long-held resentment, right? Even though you already know this is what I’d say.”

He was seeing straight through the feelings Yuder hadn’t even said aloud.

“But I’m really okay. Lately I’ve found myself increasingly curious to see just how far Kiole la Diarca, the one you’ve changed, can go.”

“...Is that so?”

“Yes. Especially since I recently learned there might be more secrets hidden in him than we realized—and now I hear he came looking for you on his own. Of course I’d be interested.”

Was that something to be relieved about? Yuder figured that if Kiole ever heard Kishiar say this, he’d probably scream and run.

Though really, what good would that do?

“One of the old Swordmasters once said—‘The most difficult and cruel revenge is to make someone taste the weight of their own sin.’”

Yuder had never heard that saying before. It didn’t sound like any famous quote.

“It means that rather than killing someone who shows no remorse, or simply giving them back what they did to you, the greatest revenge is making them truly understand the weight of their wrongdoing. Of course, most criminals avoid facing their sins, so it’s extremely difficult and rare. In that sense, it’s almost unrealistic...”

His crimson eyes shimmered like the sea.

“But ever since I first heard that line, I’ve always wanted to see it happen—just once.”

“......”

“Kiole la Diarca, who might start paying attention because of your advice... I’m curious to see what he’ll choose.”

***

The Imperial Palace, which they hadn’t visited in some time, was as beautiful as ever.

But Yuder could feel a subtle tension beneath that beauty. There were more people bustling about than usual. The knights’ movements were stiff and sharp, brimming with focus. The attendants passing by wore expressions that flickered between dark concern and barely contained excitement.

And that same strange energy was present in the face of the chamberlain who had come to greet them.

“Your Grace, Sir Baron. Welcome. How was your first proper vacation?”

“Thanks to His Majesty’s grace, it was wonderful. Can’t you tell just by looking at me? Others said I even look more handsome than before.”

Kishiar grinned, tilting his face forward to emphasize the point, but the chamberlain responded with a polite smile, his expression unchanged.

“I must be getting old. I couldn’t say.”

“Yuliver. You always say that. Can’t you be honest just once?”

Kishiar joked, but the chamberlain simply turned to Yuder and addressed him with surprising warmth.

“However, I can say that Baron Aile looks far healthier than the last time I saw him. I was worried when I heard monsters had appeared while you were resting in the North, but it seems you’ve returned fully recovered. We must thank the gods.”

“If you compliment Yuder like that, you think I’ll stop whining and behave better, don’t you?”

That’s the correct answer. Kishiar grumbled playfully from beside him.

What was the proper way to treat the Emperor’s chamberlain, who was kinder to him than to the Prince he served? Yuder felt oddly burdened. But the °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° chamberlain only gave a soft smile.

“His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress are waiting for you both in the Chamber of Truth. Please follow me.”

The Chamber of Truth. Yuder’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The Chamber of Truth in the first palace of the Sun Court. Most of the facilities in Palace One were used for official affairs, and this room was no different—but it served a very specific purpose.

It was the place where the Emperor would summon someone for a “conversation of truth.” Sometimes the topic was criminal in nature. Other times it involved private scandal or matters that concerned the entire Empire.

But during these conversations, it wasn’t just the Emperor and the guest in the room. There were always seats prepared for those who came to listen. It was, essentially, a courtroom gallery.

In short, it was a kind of miniature court designed for the Emperor alone.

It’s not a formal court. But anything discussed there can be publicly declared in the name of the Emperor and the gods—and within his authority, any punishment or reward can be given on the spot.

Historically, Emperors used the Chamber of Truth primarily to resolve matters involving members of the royal family before they reached a formal trial. It was a way to protect the dignity of the crown.

But in Yuder’s memory, the Chamber was most often used by Crown Prince Kachian—to publicly humiliate and verbally crush those he disliked. Since it wasn’t legally restricted to royals only, he had twisted it into his own personal courtroom.

A few critics had pointed this out at the time—Yuder among them—and so he had never forgotten its significance.

But today, it seems it will finally be used properly.

He glanced sideways. Kishiar walked beside him, smiling as usual. But surely, he too had picked up the information in his own way. He must have realized that the Emperor had intentionally slowed down the proceedings against Crown Prince Kachian until now.

Was he looking forward to seeing what his returned brother would do? Or was he, like many others here, feeling that odd mix of anticipation?

As if sensing Yuder’s gaze, Kishiar tilted his head and met his eyes. This time, instead of the usual reflexive smile, he gave him a gentle, sincere one—soft and sweet like whipped cream.

“......”

Seeing that smile, Yuder understood the answer.

Kishiar was greeting this day with calm and precision, colder and steadier than anyone.

And in some sense, Yuder Aile—he himself—was the only one who could shatter that mask.

“We’ve arrived. Please wait a moment.”

The chamberlain who had led them through the first palace stepped up to a white door and knocked. When he politely announced that Duke Peleta and Baron Aile had arrived, the door opened.

The Chamber of Truth was built in the shape of an unfolded fan. Along the wide curve, tiered seats were arranged for the audience. Below them, at the center, was a stiff wooden chair where the one being questioned would sit.

At the moment, all those seats were empty.

But not all of them.

At the narrow base of the fan—where the walls funneled all attention—sat Emperor Keillusa and the Empress.

It was the perfect vantage point. From there, the walls stretched outward like rays, but all focus flowed inward. The golden thrones were touched by sunlight, radiating solemn majesty.

“You’re here.”

The Emperor looked up and smiled faintly. The Empress waved at Yuder with a warm, welcoming gesture.

Yuder bowed alongside Kishiar in accordance with etiquette and then approached their seats. Kishiar was the first to speak.

“When Yuliver told me he was leading us to the Chamber of Truth, I was briefly worried that perhaps Your Majesty intended to finally exile me from the family. But seeing the place empty... it seems that’s not the case.”

“Don’t joke. You knew perfectly well it wasn’t.”

Emperor Keillusa replied without even a trace of a smirk. Kishiar laughed heartily.

“Then allow me to say—I had a very small hope that Your Majesty had prepared something special for today.”

“I did.”

With that, the Emperor quietly gestured to the space beneath his elevated seat.

There, where nothing had been before, were two chairs.

Positioned closest to the Emperor and Empress, and in full view of the proceedings—they were clearly meant for them. As Yuder’s gaze fell upon them, the Emperor spoke quietly.

“Sit with me, Baron. The time of truth will begin shortly.”