Mess 150
by Cristae150.
“Phosphorus?”
X tilted his head in puzzlement.
He had just heard from Serapi about the explosive’s ingredient and the true nature of the stones found in the temple’s underground tunnel.
“You mean the stuff at the end of matchsticks? The red part?”
“But the stones we saw in the tunnel were black and shiny.”
“That’s black phosphorus,” Serapi explained, quoting what he’d read in the research journal.
“Phosphorus-bearing minerals form four distinct allotropes depending on the heat applied. What we found in the tunnel was black phosphorus.”
Black phosphorus itself wasn’t inherently dangerous.
The problem was why it had been concealed down there.
“Phosphorus is a chemical only experts can safely handle. It ignites easily, even at low temperatures.”
And yet, to have so much black phosphorus hidden secretly beneath that tunnel?
“If anyone was dealing in such material, they would have had to report it to the government. The fact that all that black phosphorus was stashed away in secret means only one thing.”
Somewhere, an unregistered factory was operating clandestinely, manufacturing a new type of explosive.
“…….”
After Serapi’s explanation, X’s face hardened into a grim scowl.
“My god…!”
Luni, too, clapped her hand over her mouth, aghast at the revelation.
“Wow.”
In the midst of this, Pura gave a soft, offhanded remark of admiration.
“Maybe the downfall of the Empire really would be a blessing to world peace.”
Sadly, there was little room for objection.
“…No, no,” X quickly collected himself.
“There’s still a country for me to inherit. It hasn’t fallen yet.”
“But it’s on the verge,” Pura shot back.
“That’s exactly why we have to join forces to prevent it.”
“Whatever. I’ve got more urgent things to do—like finding my missing kin.”
With a huff—though thankfully not spitting for real—Pura pretended to spit at X.
“…At the very least, I have to collect the bones and bring them home.”
Though he voiced such grim possibilities without emotion, Pura’s heart was burning.
As promised, Serapi had searched for clues about Glake’s disappearance.
The Kia merchant guild had scoured the country, but there had been no promising breakthroughs.
Occasionally, Glake folk working under assumed identities had approached them.
But those who had been abducted had left not a trace behind.
“…Maybe I should just get rid of the whole country.”
X made a face at Serapi’s muttered threat.
“If there’s really no trace in the capital….”
Luni idly touched her chin.
“What about that secret factory?”
Her words drew everyone’s attention. Even as Luni blinked in surprise at her own suggestion, her eyes sparked as she hurried on.
“Glake are famous for their outstanding skill with metal!”
“Hey—you think just anyone would know about—”
Pura had started to snap at her, but his eyes grew rounder and his jaw dropped.
“They could be alive!”
X laid a hand on Pura’s shoulder, sharing in his joy.
“If one of them has the right skills—!”
To run a covert factory, they’d need specialists one couldn’t simply hire out in the open.
Surely at least a few skilled Glake had been forced to work there, alongside some of their fellows.
A flicker of hope pierced the gloom.
“…….”
Overcome with emotion, Pura pressed his lips tight and scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve.
“…Then it’s really a race against time now.”
Swiftly regaining composure, Pura understood the gravity of the situation—there was little room for celebration.
Serapi nodded.
“Now that I own the temple building that concealed the evidence, there’s no telling what they’ll do next. We have to prepare for the worst.”
“So what do we do?” Pura pressed anxiously.
“For now, we act as if nothing is happening.”
Making a rash move could only provoke the other side into doing something dangerous. From this moment, caution was paramount.
“Fortunately, the Imperial Palace banquet is coming up soon.”
A perfect excuse to be preoccupied elsewhere. The Crown Prince’s faction would also use the banquet preparations as a pretext to regroup.
“While everyone’s attention is on the banquet, they’re certain to make their move.”
So all they had to do was follow that current—while preparing to strike at their blind spot.
“Lu, I need you to start preparing for a financial audit—right now.”
“A financial audit?”
Luni looked about to object at his sudden command, then realized his intent and nodded solemnly.
“And Your Highness,” Serapi continued, turning to X.
“Could you track the Crown Prince’s movements over the past few years?”
“That’s precisely why my mother insisted on naming that bastard heir,” X said with a wry smile. As Crown Prince, every one of his moves was reported to the Empress.
“Since the Prince’s outings are limited, focus on the days when he’s left the palace.”
“I’ll find out as quickly as I can.”
“What about me?” Pura begged.
“You’ll shadow the movements that His Highness uncovers. Retrace the Crown Prince’s path to see if anything strikes you as odd—anything at all, no matter how trivial. If it seems suspicious or noteworthy, report it to me right away.”
As their discussion reached its conclusion—
“Be careful, Count.”
X’s tone as he spoke to Serapi was more serious than ever.
“In truth, it’s still highly classified, but….”
What he revealed next was shocking.
“A body was discovered at the palace.”
The victim was a maid attached to the Crown Prince’s residence.
“Remember what I told you?” he said.
That the mad killer had lost his usual prey.
“So you must be especially wary at this banquet.”
Now, there was no telling what the Crown Prince might do.
Serapi, however, already had a good idea what would happen at the banquet.
If you asked the staff of the Felikia manor who was busiest, they would unanimously reply:
All the lord’s family.
Yet if pressed, most would name Orchis.
Orchis’s schedule was exceedingly tight.
He rose early for morning drills with the knights, turned to paperwork assigned by the Duke after breakfast, and, if work ran long, continued into the afternoon; if not, he tended to personal matters.
To anyone else, it would have seemed a tedious routine.
But recently, there had been subtle changes.
“Oh my, heading out so early?”
Knock-knock. The Duchess of Felikia entered her son’s room, looking surprised.
“Mother.”
Orchis was just putting on his coat for an outing when she waved him off and sat herself on the sofa.
She smiled slyly as she surveyed her impeccably dressed son.
“What a worthless son I’ve raised.”
“…….”
“Ever since you found yourself a girl, you’re hardly ever home.”
“That’s not it.”
Orchis replied curtly. Even though he knew she was only teasing him for his frequent midday visits to the Validus estate, he still felt a twinge of embarrassment.
The Duchess laughed aloud at her son’s discomfort.
“Oh, poor boy, you’re blushing.”
“What brings you here today?” Orchis sighed, settling into the sofa opposite.
“Honestly, I just wanted to see your face. Do you know how seldom you’re around the house lately?”
“You see me at morning training and breakfast.”
“This is why raising sons is such a futile business….”
Judging she’d teased enough, the Duchess got to the point.
“There are signs of rebellion.”
Orchis’s eyes narrowed.
“The Count Validus found something on the capital’s edge. There’s a tunnel beneath a building there, and supposedly they found what looks like explosive material.”
“Is the temple involved?”
“More likely the ones pulling its strings.”
No need to name them; mother and son both knew precisely who those people were.
“Your father wants to keep a lid on it for now.”
“So he can put a tail on them.”
“It’ll be hard to get at the building now that it belongs to the Count, and that’s all the more frustrating for them.”
A smile spread across the Duchess’s face, but Orchis felt a chill run down his spine as he watched her.
“Sigh, really….”
She raked a hand through her sharply cut silver hair.
“When will I finally be able to kill them….”
Those violet eyes, so much like his own, flashed with an icy light. She licked her lips as if savoring the thought—the cold, snake-like flick of a tongue.
“…….”
Orchis made no reply to his mother.
‘No wonder she eloped with Father.’
Having watched his parents for so long, Orchis knew all too well that his mother was as formidable as his father.
“You’re going to the Count’s, aren’t you? Give him my regards.”
“I’m sure it will please him.”
“It would be nice if we could all have dinner together sometime.”
“He’d be even happier to hear that directly from you.”
“A boyfriend’s mother must always be careful.”
As her son stood to go, the Duchess waved him off—then let out a small “ah,” as if she’d just remembered something.
“I almost forgot.”
Orchis paused and glanced back.
“Fenny will be coming up soon.”
“Fenny is coming here?”
Serapi’s face lit up with joy at the news from Orchis upon his arrival at the Validus mansion.
“My goodness, she’s finally coming!”
“With the palace banquet coming up, it seems she planned her return to coincide.”
“Ah….”
Serapi, overjoyed at the thought of seeing old friends again, let slip a melancholy sigh.
Orchis was thoroughly amused—and charmed—by how quickly his companion’s emotions could change.
“She’ll be arriving with the Crown Prince, won’t she?”
At that moment, Peonia’s situation seemed more pitiable than ever.
If memory served, this banquet was to be the legendary day when Peonia, Lilia, and the Crown Prince’s relationship would be settled once and for all.
“What do you think, Kiss?”
“About what?”
As he handed his coat to a maid—who now treated him more as family than guest—Orchis replied to Serapi’s question as naturally as breathing.
“Fenny and Lady Alveolos.”
Asked whether their relationship looked close, Orchis answered without hesitation. It was an easy call.
“Like master and dog, practically.”
“Did you have to put it that way…?”
Serapi aimed a reproachful look, yet not without fondness.
Still, it wasn’t inaccurate.
‘This should be enough, right?’
Crude as it sounded, Orchis had said much the same: the two women were clearly close.
He had done his best. So long as the Crown Prince didn’t throw a complete tantrum mid-banquet, no war would break out.
‘But….’
He couldn’t allow himself too much optimism.
‘The one actually plotting rebellion is the Crown Prince himself.’