Fakes Don’t Want To Be Real Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 

In the distant past, when the Empire was first founded, the God of Fate bestowed a blessing upon the first emperor.

Fearing that too much power would be concentrated in a single place, the emperor pleaded for the blessing to be divided and granted to his vassals instead, and Vicente accepted his request.

Thus, through Vicente’s power, four houses came to possess extraordinary abilities.

Lestir of the North, Evergreen of the East, Silkisia of the South, and Stella of the West.

At any given time, only one ability-holder existed in each house.

At times, an ability-holder might not exist at all for an entire generation.

The way to confirm this was to accompany the individual to Vicente’s temple and undergo an appraisal ritual conducted by the high priest. There were other methods, but this was the most common.

This was precisely why Verndia had ordered Isolet to investigate.

Had Lillian Silkisia ever gone to Vicente’s temple to verify whether she possessed an ability?

Historically, a house’s power tended to be proportional to the strength of its ability-holder.

If so, then Silkisia, blind with ambition, should have rushed to the temple the moment Lillian returned yet Isolet reported that no such visit had ever taken place. It was not possible that Lillian didn’t undergone the appraisal.

At the time she was tested for blood relations, Vicente’s high priest had been absent nor did it make sense that she had met the high priest before her disappearance.

The head of the Silkisia house back then was a different man from the current one, and Lillian, who had not even been recognized as a legitimate daughter at the time, could not have received the appraisal.

Then why had the current head of Silkisia still not conducted Lillian’s ability appraisal?

Then does that mean Lady Psychke truly– no, it isn’t certain. One conversation alone is not proof that she is an ability-holder. It’d be foolish to dawdle on something uncertain.

Repeating this to himself, Verndia tried to push the scene he had witnessed at the association out of his mind, but it never left him.

If the young lady were not an ability-holder, Lia would never have reacted the way she did.

She was the most skilled ice mage in the Empire, and just as proud and arrogant as her reputation suggested, earning her goodwill was like grasping a star from the sky.

Yet today, Lia had shown Psychke a sincere, person-to-person goodwill.

And there was only one circumstance under which Lia ever behaved that way.

 

“Damn it… what is this, really?”

 

He had thought she was either dead or never born at all, yet she was alive? And so close by?

Though he told himself it was uncertain, a strange hollowness settled over him. Verndia scrubbed his face roughly with his hands.

***

Meanwhile, Psychke was walking slowly back toward the mansion. Exhausted in both body and mind, she had even decided to skip her usual sword practice.

 

‘It’s fine. She said it was but a misunderstanding, so it’ll be fine.’

 

The events at the Magic Association refused to leave her thoughts. She took a long breath in and out, forcing her racing heart to calm.

After walking for some time, she passed through the front grounds and spotted the Silkisia family’s private carriage along the road leading to the main gate.

 

‘It seemed today is that day.’

 

Her father had finally returned.

In the past, after returning from an inspection of the southern territories, her father had held a small dinner to celebrate Lillian’s return.

 

‘I hope they don’t call me.’

 

Even if she claimed to be ill, they would likely drag her out and tell her to just sit there. Resolving not to attend under any circumstances, she entered the lobby only to freeze.

 

“Hey, put that in the garden!”

“We’re short on flowers. Isn’t there any space left?”

 

The noise was far too loud for what was supposed to be a modest dinner. It felt as though every servant in the mansion had been summoned to prepare for a party.

As she looked around in confusion, she collided hard with a servant carrying an armful of balloons.

 

“Ugh!”

“Watch where you’re– tch, damn unlucky.”

 

The servant muttered something under their breath, but one phrase rang clearly in her ears.

 

“A celebration banquet for Lillian’s return.”

 

Fragments of conversation followed and regrets about not having enough time to invite nobles, remarks that celebrating among themselves would be enough.

 

‘Why is this happening already?’

 

She distinctly remembered that in the past, they had postponed it for months, citing busyness. Although off, she didn’t dwell on it.

 

‘I should just stay in my room.’

 

Only after turning the corner into the corridor connected to the second-floor stairs did the servants’ excited chatter finally fade.

Psychke let out a faint sigh, then stilled.

Light was spilling through the slightly open door at the center of the hallway, meaning it was her Father, Lokan Silkisia.

 

“I couldn’t send word ahead of time. I apologize.”

 

She heard Yzhar’s voice, speaking quietly with her father.

Those voices were from the people she didn’t like so she tried to walk quickly as possible.

 

But her father’s strange tone stopped her cold, “I can’t believe it, even after seeing it with my own eyes. How could Lillian… how could that child have returned?!”

 

He sounded furious.

Even Yzhar seemed taken aback, responding with confusion.

 

“They say all the tests at the temple were completed. Her reactions matched Father’s hair and blood—”

“That’s impossible!”

 

The duke shouted. Why?

Forgetting she needed to leave, Psychke focused all her attention on listening.

He should have been happy. Why was he reacting like this?

 

“Lillian—she can never return! I personally—!”

 

The words cut off abruptly.

It didn’t seem as though he had noticed he was being overheard; rather, he had realized he’d said too much and stopped himself.

Psychke felt the blood drain from her body.

What… did I just hear?

She breathed in and out as quietly as possible, fixing her gaze on the crimson light leaking through the doorframe.

Inside, footsteps paced restlessly with harsh breathing of a middle-aged man followed.

 

After a brief silence, “No. That’s not it.”

 

The duke spoke again, far calmer.

 

“I’ll look into this matter myself. Don’t concern yourself with it. Whatever the truth may be, that child doesn’t matter. What matters is Psychke, she must never—”

 

Her name burst out without warning.

Psychke sucked in a sharp breath before she could stop herself.

She clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.

 

“Is someone out there?”

 

She heard movement, as if someone were about to step into the corridor. Scanning her surrounding in a flash, and found a suit of decorative armor just three steps away.

She moved toward it without hesitation. Having surpassed a certain level as a swordswoman, she made no sound.

Just as she slipped behind the armor, the thin line of crimson light widened and Yzhar stepped out.

 

“There’s no one here.”

 

He didn’t rely on sight alone, he sharpened his senses, feeling for any movement, yet he failed to detect Psychke, hidden close by.

 

The duke did not fully trust his son’s words, “I heard something. Go out and search thoroughly.”

 

Yzhar frowned but stepped into the hallway, scanning the area.

Then he moved toward the armor as it was the only place someone could be hiding.

 

‘What do I do?’

 

Psychke unconsciously fumbled with the item given by Verndia, a single dagger for self-defense.

That was all.

Unfortunately, none of it could resolve the situation.

And still, Yzhar drew closer.

Five steps. Four. Three–

Clenching the hem of her clothes, Psychke resolved to face him head-on if it came to that.

Her palms were slick with cold sweat, her heart pounding so loudly it felt as though it were beating beside her ears.

Two steps. One,

 

“Brother!”

 

A voice like salvation rang through the corridor.

Yzhar, who had been about to bend down, lifted his gaze.

 

“Brother!”

 

It was Lenox and Lillian. Never in her life she ever welcomed these people she hated so much.

As footsteps passed by the armor, Psychke bit down hard on her lip, her heart threatening to burst.

 

“We heard Father had returned, so we wanted to greet him before the party.”

 

Lillian smiled sweetly, twisting her hair shyly around her fingers.

 

With a small nod, Yzhar led them into the duke’s study, “Where is she? Has he already come back?”

“No. They said she’s still out.”

“Seriously, what’s wrong with her lately? Always running around. Is she lining up a lover in case she gets kicked out?”

 

A mocking laugh followed.

The footsteps faded, replaced by Lillian’s cheerful voice drifting from inside the study.

 

“Father!”

 

It was unmistakably the voice of a daughter reunited with her parent after more than a decade.

As though he had never been angry at all, the Duke of Silkisia exclaimed ‘Lillian!’ and embraced her tightly.

The echo of that emotional reunion dissolved into the air as the door closed with a heavy thud. Leaking in fragments were the bright happy laughter.

Listening to it made something ache in Psychke’s chest. The cold of the wall at her back seemed to seep straight into her bones.

The only Silkisia excluded from that family happiness stood there in a daze for a long moment.

Then, suddenly coming to herself, she slipped out of the narrow space and headed for the path she was meant to take.