The hall had long since emptied. The only people remaining were a few guards and some elderly maids who were already clearing the hall.
Why did Uncle... "Brother, I think the Veil—"
His words echoed in my mind. It was the Veil that hadn't reacted. As mercilessly strict as he was, even he seemed at a loss for how to interpret that outcome.
They said the artifacts were absolute. I...
For a long moment, I couldn't bring myself to stand. I remained on my knees, my gaze anchored to the floor, my fists pressed hard against the marble.
...Do I really have no mana?
Then, I heard approaching footsteps. A shadow stretched out in front of me. I barely lifted my head, catching sight of a long skirt and a pair of black shoes, heavily weathered by time.
"A-are you here... to MOCK ME too?!"
My voice was hoarse. My eyes burned, swollen and heavy with tears, but I screamed with every ounce of strength I had left. The figure before me lowered herself slowly until she was kneeling on the floor.
"You must know..." Her voice carried the deep, deliberate cadence of the elderly. She paused briefly before continuing. "Sometimes, it is the darkness that teaches us exactly where to look. Someone told me that a long time ago—someone who saved me from a very similar situation."
"What could you possibly know?! You're just a servant... what could you know about what I'm going through?!"
I froze for a moment. The suffocating knot in my throat loosened ever so slightly, and my ragged breathing gradually began to steady. I raised my gaze, taking a deep breath as the violent trembling in my fingers subsided.
My eyes widened.
Her face was lined with deep, dark circles, yet she was smiling at me. It was an exhausted smile, but deeply reassuring. I felt a sudden, sharp squeeze in my chest. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
She moved slowly, letting out a strained breath as she pushed herself up. I could see her frail body trembling until she finally stood.
"Come now. The floor is freezing."
She offered me a hand to help me up. Instinctively, I swatted it away, shrinking back against the floor. I stayed like that for a few seconds, then looked at her hand again. I hesitated, but eventually, I took it.
My legs wobbled for a second, but they held my weight.
"There, you see? ...That's already much better."
I sniffled. The maid reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a meticulously folded handkerchief. She handed it to me, gently taking my hands and pressing it between my fingers. A faint, crisp scent of soap reached my nose.
"Oh, dear... we shouldn't leave this on the floor. I need to return the Veil," the old woman murmured.
Her eyes widened slightly as she leaned toward the Aether Veil, but I saw her hesitate mid-motion. Before she could bend over completely, I reached down, picked it up, and handed it to her.
Earlier, she bent down... She strained herself so much... For me?
I felt hot tears welling up again.
"Thank you." The words barely scraped past my throat in a trembling whisper.
The elderly woman smiled at me, then paused, studying my face more closely.
"You don't need to thank me. In fact... now that I get a better look at you, you remind me of that person. You have his exact eyes."
I didn't know who she was talking about, but a genuine smile graced her lips, causing the corners of her eyes to crinkle with warmth.
"After all these years... I never thought I'd feel a happiness like this again. Thank you, Young Master."
For a fleeting moment, the crushing weight in my chest felt a fraction lighter.
"I'm not as strong as I used to be... otherwise I would escort you myself. At least let me..."
"Mhm!"
I shook my head vehemently.
"Don't worry. See? I'm fine!"
I quickly wiped my face with the cloth she'd given me, then straightened my back. I couldn't do much, but the least I could do was show her I wasn't broken. I wanted to thank her again, but another maid called her away to help carry some soiled rags.
"Take care of yourself..."
She whispered something at the very end that I couldn't catch, but I nodded anyway. Clenching my fists, I turned toward the hall's massive obsidian doors. Outside, there was absolutely no one waiting for me. I had foolishly hoped to find the same maids who had escorted me here.
Marta... who was with her? I don't remember... Why didn't anyone come to collect me? The others left with their escorts... Why didn't I?
I dwelled on it for a long time, desperately hoping Hilda would materialize from around the corner of the gardens at any second. She was the only person who could have truly calmed me down.
But it was a hollow hope. What felt like an eternity passed, and no one came for me. Eventually, almost in a trance, I began walking toward the gardens.
Behind me, the elderly maids passed by, pushing a rickety cart loaded with buckets of blood and a heap of stained rags. The woman gave me one last nod before turning the corner and vanishing past the courtyard.
The corridors, previously swarming with nobility and servants, were now drowned in a surreal, heavy silence.
Finding my way back wasn't difficult. After all, I had often wandered these halls with my brothers. I climbed the grand staircases of the reception hall and, after what felt like a lifetime, finally reached the third floor, stopping before the double doors that separated my private quarters from the common hall. There were no guards, no maids, not even the butler who usually stood watch in the antechamber.
Pushing open the doors to my wing, I immediately called out for Hilda.
No answer.
I sprinted toward the servants' quarters, then the guest hall. Absolute darkness. I was completely alone.
I entered my room and curled up on the edge of the bed, hugging my knees tightly to my chest.
Why?
My breath shuddered in my lungs. My grip loosened, and the room began to spin. I tried to force my eyes open, but they were simply too heavy.
This... can't... be happening...
Then, everything went black.
I woke up early, my eyes snapping open to stare at the ceiling as I gasped for air. For a fleeting second, still clouded by sleep, a sudden wave of relief washed over my body.
It was just a nightmare...
I lay paralyzed beneath the blankets before bolting upright. I listened to the silence for a moment, then slowly looked down, pulling back the covers.
Am I still wearing the tunic? How... I thought I was just sweating a bit too much...
My stomach growled.
"Hildaa!" I called out, waiting for the familiar clink of the hot water pitcher and the sweet aroma of the pastries she brought me every morning.
A moment later, the lock clicked. I shot up in bed as the door swung open.
"Hilda! I had a terrible nightmare... Why am I still wearing the tuni—"
But a maid I had never seen before walked in. She kept her eyes glued to the floor, completely ignoring my existence.
"Is Hilda not here?"
She set the tray on the table, turned on her heel, and shut the door without a single word.
Why didn't she answer me?
Then, all at once, reality crashed down on me. I brought a hand to my chest, brushing against the heavy, stiff fabric of my clothes.
The tunic.
The memories flooded back in a violent wave. The trial, the hall, my father, the nobles. My head began to throb violently.
"From this exact moment... stripped of every right... shall no longer be recognized as my son."
Those words echoed in my mind, louder and more absolute than before. The silence in the room felt thick and unnatural, until it solidified into a damning confirmation.
My legs buckled under the crushing weight of those thoughts. I kept replaying all the wasted effort, all the grueling lessons with Szilard and the other tutors.
Almost a year...
A full year of preparation, relentless exercises, and study.
Then... what was the point of it all?
I felt hot tears brimming in my eyes.
"I-I... yeah. It just has to be a bad dream..."
A manic, nervous laugh escaped my lips. I pinched my cheek and pulled hard.
"Ow..."
I instantly let go and waited.
Nothing happened.
Why am I not waking up?
I swallowed hard, trying to slow my breathing, but my lungs continued to heave erratically.
"Maybe... I just need to wait..."
I looked around. The floor, the walls—everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. I pinched my arm. Once. Then again.
"It's not real..."
I tried to stand up.
I managed to lift myself for a second, but my legs instantly gave out. I collapsed onto my hands.
"No..."
I stared at my trembling fingers.
I prepared every single day. I did everything they told me to.
Yet there I was, incapable of even holding my own weight. My breathing spiraled out of control, and the tears finally spilled over.
"I... I did everything right..." My voice shattered. "Then... why was it all for nothing?!"
I pulled my knees to my chest and stayed like that for a long time. I had no idea how many hours bled by. I only noticed my breathing gradually evening out, the tears eventually running dry.
When I finally lifted my head, my surroundings slowly came back into focus.
To my right, on the nightstand, sat a ceramic pitcher. The water inside seemed to be from the day before—stale and freezing cold. I peeled off the suffocating silver tunic, dumping it on the chair beside the bed. I stared at the pitcher for a moment, my nose wrinkling in slight disgust.
I certainly didn't want to use that water, but I had no other choice. I submerged my hands, scrubbing them clean before splashing the frigid water over my tear-stained face. I shivered violently at the contact, but the biting cold helped clear the fog in my mind. Then, I carefully washed my arms, trying to scrub myself clean as best I could.
Once I was done, I grabbed the lightweight tunic resting on the chair and wrestled it on. The buttons felt infinitely harder to fasten without someone there to do it for me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs dangling, and simply stared at the closed door.
Hilda... Where are you?
A while later, I stood up. My stomach gave another hollow rumble, prompting me to walk over to the table.
I blinked in surprise. Waiting for me was a bowl of watery, unidentifiable green soup and a stale crust of bread. I stared at the bowl. The kitchen staff knew I refused to eat most vegetables, so they always made a point to exclude them from my meals.
First the maids... now even the cooks.
What if they replaced them too?
That horrifying thought immediately brought my mind back to Hilda.
No... no, what if they replaced her too?
My chest constricted painfully.
It can't just be because of the test... Just because I don't have mana?
What is happening? Why are they doing all of this to me?
I collapsed to the floor again, my hands slapping against the dirty stone. Dust clung to my palms, but I couldn't bring myself to move. My arms shook violently; my legs felt like jelly, utterly drained of strength. I tried to push myself up, but the moment I put weight on my hands, my muscles gave out, sending me crashing back down.
My breathing grew shallow and jagged, a terrifying sensation of absolute emptiness hollowing out my core. I tried to move again, but only my fingers twitched. I could no longer force my body to obey me.