There Is No Place For Fakes

Philomel chewed the sound in her mouth without saying a word. She didn’t have to mention her plans.

“So I jumped out to catch it, but the rabbit ran away and ended up wandering all over the mountain.”

The dining table was Ellencia’s solo stage. Her memories of her childhood trickled incessantly. Philomel and Eustis, who were present, were all about arguing with Ellencia’s story.

Philomel, slightly distraught, wondered.

‘Was Elencia originally also such a talkative person?’

When she read the book, she didn’t really feel that way. However, there was also no description saying that she was not talkative, so it was difficult to pin a nail on Ellencia and whether or not she was any different from the book.

Philomel looked at Ellencia, who smiled.

“Hehe, even though my body was frozen, it was really fun.”

She had a face that looked innocent. With that face, she almost drove Catherine to death. A crippling suspicion crept up Philomel’s spine that perhaps behind that innocent face a frighteningly different face might be hiding. 

‘No. Don’t be afraid.’

Philomel consciously straightened her shrugged shoulders. She couldn’t do anything if she let fear take control of her again. She reiterated her resolve not to run away anymore, instead take everything head on. So Philomel paid close attention to Ellencia’s tales from childhood..

The newly discovered Princess’ cheerful voice resonated throughout the dining hall.

“So she asked me to keep the baby rabbits, but her mother wouldn’t let me.”

“If you want, let them grow here.” Eustis suggested.

“Wow, really? That’ll be amazing!”

A friendly atmosphere spread throughout the room. To be honest, Philomel found this atmosphere very awkward. She had eaten quite a few meals with Eustis, but she was not in the same mood now. Conversation came and went like seasoning for cooking, and the two of them focused on the food rather than conversing. But that didn’t mean it looked good.

‘Too noisy and crazy.’

There was less conversation then, but she felt more at ease.

As Elencia looked at her father, she said with excitement.

“I had the most fun when I skipped the temple service and went to play with my friends. Daddy, did you do something like that too?”

“I did not.”

“Oh…”

Eustis added, perhaps conscious of the fact that his answer was too short.

“I have never silently missed a temple service, and I have no friends.”

“…”

The atmosphere became somber. It felt like something had to be said. Just in time, Philomel, who had been silent for a while, opened her mouth to say something appropriate.

“Come to think of it, I also skipped services in the past…”

“It’s okay! I’ll be your friend!”

Ellencia cut off Philomel’s words as if she hadn’t heard her and started talking again.

‘It seems that you don’t like me opening my mouth, huh?’

Well, that’s ok. Since Philomel didn’t have to deliberately squeeze a comment out, she was rather comfortable like that. Leaving the two to make noise on their own, Philomel returned to observing Ellencia from the side.There were things that could be different about the real princess and the main character of <Princess Ellencia>.

There is also the question for what purpose did the author of “The Princess Ellencia” write the book in the first place? Like other books of prophecy, it bothered her that the narrative form was a novel to be considered as a record of the future she saw. Of all the prophetic books that Philomel researched, none focused more on a personal love story than this one.

It was said that there would be a war in the future, that natural disasters would occur, and that magic tools would be distributed without being regulated and ordinary people would be able to use magic freely. There were only some big and amazing prophecies. There must be a reason why <Princess Elencia> was different from other prophetic books.

But why? For what reason?

‘Is there any benefit to the author only in the form of a novel?’

But she had no idea what the benefit could be.

If the author wanted money or power, he could write a book and inform the Emperor of the existence of the real daughter and get the price. But the author only wrote one book, to say he wanted to spread his reputation as a prophet, one book wouldn’t suffice. 

There’s way too few clues to crystallize the author’s intentions. The only thing certain about him is that he wrote <Princess Elencia>. 

But that’s also a clue, no? Don’t they say a book is the mirror of its author? There must have been traces left by the author in the book as well. Philomel flipped through the pages of <Princess Ellencia>, which she knows all too well, in her mind.

Personality, preferences, and linguistic habits…

Anything was good as long as it reflected the author’s self-consciousness. Now, she desperately looked for even the slightest clue that she may have overlooked in the past. Faint outlines flashed through the innumerable types. Some of them became clearer.

“…How are you, Philomel?”

Her thoughts that had been running a thousand per second, stopped at once at the unexpected question. The Emperor was staring blankly at Philomel.

“Yes? I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear.”

Philomel asked in bewilderment.

“Do you have anything in particular to tell to me?”

“Well. Not really…”

“Any topic is fine. I want to hear your story.”

She barely got a strand, but she was talking to him when it’s like this. Philomel was about to say something in order to quickly jump back into the sea of thoughts. But… she had nothing to say. If the flow of the conversation continued, it was Philomel’s turn to bring up some pleasant memories of her. The problem was that there was no such thing.

Politics, diplomacy, high society, if it’s about such topics, she could lead the conversation. But when conversations entered the private realm, Philomel was always the one listening.

“Oh, um…”

Did she have any plausible memories? Looking back, all that came to mind was the boring and monotonous daily life of a Princess. Then an apple from her dessert caught Philomel’s eye.

‘Right. There was that.’

“The other day, one of the maids brought me an apple pie sold in the Central Plaza, and when I ate it, it tasted surprisingly good. The common people’s food is also quite tasty.”

Actually, the story was from the time she and Jeremiah went out without Eustis’ knowledge, but she appropriately dramatized it and told it.

Eustis’ eyes lit up.

“Exactly where did your maid say they sell it in the Central Plaza?”

“That’s… That kid said something about a rainbow.”

Why was he like that? Did he like apple pie?

Ellencia suddenly jumped in.

“It’s so delicious, I want to try it! I came to the palace and tasted all kinds of splendid sweets, but sometimes I miss the simple taste of the old days…”

In this way, the initiative of the conversation was again taken by Ellencia. Just as Philomel was now relieved and was about to indulge in her thoughts.

“Right. I’ll let the palace chef know to serve you the food you had in the past from time to time. By the way, Philomel, don’t you have anything else to tell me?”

Eustis cut off Ellencia from talking endlessly and put Philomel into the spotlight once again. 

‘Why are you so interested in me? Leave me alone!’

But Philomel swallowed her cry and looked for something else to talk about.

‘I really don’t have any topic. I can’t help it. It’s a memory I don’t want to recall, but let’s get over with it.’

Among the topics that could be mentioned here was one of her fresh experiences that none of these people have ever had.

“As you may know, when I left the imperial palace, and after being found, I was confined to the police detention center…” Philomel’s voice faded.

It was because Eustis’ face was fiercely distorted.

“You were in jail?”

Life dripped from the low voice.

“Uh… yes. Didn’t you hear from the young Duke of Avrydon?”

“There was no report like that.”

‘This…’

Philomel clicked her tongue. Nassar must have left it out by mistake.

Eustis sharpened his teeth.

“…That cheeky kid.”

Philomel opened her mouth to defend Nassar.

“The little Duke was busy bringing me here. Everyone makes mistakes, so please have mercy.”

‘It’s because of him that I feel better when I’m punished for something insignificant like this!’

Philomel’s persuasion softened the Emperor’s momentum, although his eyes were still unimpressive. Frankly, she didn’t know if Nassar’s omission in the report upset him, but she was glad he calmed down a bit. 

After that, an awkward current of evil flowed over her frame. Philomel kept her mouth shut, not knowing how the Emperor would react, and he seemed lost in other thoughts. Ellencia, who had only been talking about her bright memories of the past before, for some reason, suddenly started talking about the difficulties of her life in the imperial palace.

The meal ended in such discomfort. The Emperor hurriedly left, and Ellencia followed him like a young chick who follows their mother hen. Philomel, who was the last to get up, hesitated. The pungent smell of something tickled her nostrils.

“What is this smell?” asked Philomel to the maid who was removing the table.

At the place she pointed to, there was a small container of seasoning. The maid stopped her action and bowed to her respectfully.

“It’s Hosa powder.”

Hosa was a vegetable with a spicy taste, and powder made from Hosa was used to add a spicy taste to food.

“Why is Hosa powder here…?”

Most people of the Empire did not enjoy the spicy taste. Hosa powder was only used in the extreme regions of the empire.

“Her Highness sprinkles it on every meal. Spicy food seems to suit the smell of rats.”

It was Josiah’s seat. The seat where the barrel was placed was Ellencia’s. It was not a coincidence that the author of <Princess Ellencia> came to mind at that moment.

[The death god picked up an appetizing red chicken leg. At the addictive spiciness that filled his mouth, he tasted it greedily.]

A clue to the author that Philomel just found.

The envoys from the conspiracy of the southern country had a secret meeting among themselves. ‘Appetizing red chicken legs’ and ‘addictive spiciness’ were quite heterogeneous expressions. Yes, in the Empire, spicy taste was just spicy. There were some people who liked sour tastes or bitter tastes, but it was absolutely not delicious from a general point of view. So far, she thought that it was expressed from the perspective of an envoy who ate food because the locality preferred spicy taste.  However, the feeling that the taste of the recording was reflected in the author’s taste became clearer. And Elencia also likes spicy food.

‘It must be a coincidence…??’

She could overlap as many flavors as she wanted, and it’s delicious…

Philomel’s hand trembled easily, and it felt uncomfortable, so Philomel squeezed her hand tightly to stop it from trembling.