It's been almost three weeks since we returned from Homonhon Palace, where we historians were dragged into copying ancient writings. Why couldn’t we have done that after the war? If this was just another whim of the prince, I’d love to punch him for it!

As soon as we got back, the others started painstakingly translating the scrolls, their suspicion about the order growing with every symbol they transcribed. But they’re doing their best, cross-referencing each line, trying to make sense of the ancient writing. The problem is, they don’t have the advantage I do. No one could’ve predicted that my knowledge of Jejemon text from my world would help here, even me. In fact I learned that the scrolls share that same bizarre complexity, almost like Egyptian hieroglyphics. Some read from top to bottom, but sometimes you start on the left side and sometimes on the right, adding more difficulty to it.

Where they struggle, I decode with ease. My background makes these symbols familiar, and that gives me a massive advantage—one I intend to keep hidden. Jejemon might have been mocked back home, but here, it could unlock power beyond imagination.

I glance around at my fellow historians, all intensely focused. The final scroll is now in our hands, and all eleven are arranged in order of retrieval, awaiting full translation so they can grasp the power they hold. All of this, without anyone knowing, is something I am about to finish, including the true arrangement of the scrolls and their proper order—before we even returned to the empire of Marceau. But the frustrating thing is, I don't have the power to do anything about it. I have the knowledge, but I don’t have the means to act.

Where on earth will I find the princess again? All I can do is wait to eavesdrop on the prince's warriors' information. So I guess being selfishly appointed as an advisor is a good thing? Well, as if I have a choice. I can watch and learn what the prince already knows and use it for my own purposes. It’s a good opportunity, but being near that man is nerve-wracking! I want to avoid him as much as possible. I can still picture his face while killing a few of the knights back during the war. That cold indifference…

A shiver runs down my spine.

Prince Richard successfully faked his own death as we planned, but he pulled his own method different from what I had in mind. Well, as long as it worked, it’s fine. I don't want to involve myself in any politics; my life is already complicated as it is. My greatest fear didn’t come to pass—he didn’t sense any power from the Homonhon prince, confirming my theory: he can only detect the power tied to the scroll and its rightful owner. How he does it, I still don’t know. If he had sensed “the key” from the princess, he wouldn’t have let her escape from the beginning. Now, with the prince of Marceau convinced that love is the missing piece, it’ll be even harder for them to escape this misguided notion.

“Pfft! To think these men are so clueless about love. It makes things easier for me,” I grin to myself, recalling past conversations. "I should thank the past ruler who banned the word ‘love’ in this world. That king must have been hurt enough to ban it and create a stupid law about it. Tsk, money and power can really do anything, huh."

"Hey, everyone, what will happen to us once we’ve finished decoding these scrolls?” I ask absentmindedly, my chin propped on my hand as my quill scratches erratically across the paper. A cloud of uncertainty seems to hover over us. I press on, “Are we going to be... disposed of? I mean, once we’re no longer needed.”

The atmosphere shifts, tension creeping in as Leon and the others exchange uneasy glances. It’s Leon who finally speaks, his brow creased as he meets my gaze. “Do you really think the prince is like that?” he asks, disbelief coloring his voice.

'Yes, Well, he did say something like that to me not too long ago. And he scratched at the grape stem, remember?' I think sarcastically but keep it to myself.

Leon continues, his voice steady. “I don’t know what impression you have of the prince, but we all know what he’s really like when it comes to his people.” I notice nods of agreement from the others. 'Masochists,' I think, slightly exasperated.

“He may seem cold and harsh as a leader, but in times of uncertainty, people do not seek kindness or softness—they seek stability, someone who can make the difficult decisions, who commands respect both within and beyond the empire, and we see that in His Highness.”

"But the prince considers betrayal utterly intolerable. Those who betrayed His Highness in the past all wished that they would die instead," Rowell interjects, sending a chill down my spine. "They may still be alive till now."

"W...what do you mean? Where are they now?" I ask, trying to mask the fear gnawing at me.

"Somewhere in the shadows? The prince doesn't want them to die easily. He'd rather see the full extent of their failure, stripped of everything they hoped for, including dying. So I’m sure they are barely alive somewhere—but not from here."

The blood drains from my face. If the prince found out about my recent actions at Homonhon Palace... I can't let him know what I did. 

I absolutely can’t!