30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

36 – 8. Night of Counting Stars (10)

*

When Ivan arrived at the Intelligence Headquarters, everyone, from the guards to the agents at the desks, stood up facing him.

“Wow, is this for real?”

“Little Ivan…”

Whispered voices quietly filled the interior of the headquarters. Whenever Ivan walked, there were silent bows behind him, and stiff salutes in front of him.

Suddenly, one agent whose eyes met Ivan’s urgently raised his hand and approached.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Lieutenant Petrovich!”

“Do you know me?”

“I do.”

The young man who met Ivan’s gaze trembled and quickly spoke.

“I belong to the generation that learned from the manual you wrote!”

“Oh, that.”

Ivan nodded his head. He remembered writing something like that.

It was a kind of diary that mainly recorded experiences of infiltrating the demon residential area and assassinating enemies in the field.

And as usual with diaries, if someone who read what was written in it appeared, it would be very embarrassing. Ivan turned his expressionless face away.

“Did you come to meet Lieutenant Cherkatov?”

“Hmm. I’ll report directly to Minister Kirillovna.”

“…I’ll escort you to the Eastern Palace. Please follow me.”

Ivan nodded briefly and followed the unfamiliar agent. The stifling silence pressed down on them.

Reporting directly to the princess? How significant could this matter be?

The agents, each with a stern demeanor, bowed respectfully behind Ivan and dispersed to their respective positions. A sense of impending busyness lingered.

Whatever was about to happen, they couldn’t predict, but if the ‘minor’ Ivan was directly involved in informing the princess, the repercussions would undoubtedly affect them.

*

The Krasilov Eastern Palace was a colossal marble structure created solely for the princess.

Due to the princess’s personality, the palace prioritized extreme practicality over regal grandeur, yet its size and symbolism left a powerful impression.

Ivan descended in front of the grand gate adorned with reliefs. The agent driving the carriage saluted silently and disappeared beyond the distance.

There was nothing unusual to an observer in front of the palace, but Ivan paid little attention.

“Dmitri.”

“Oh, Senior!”

Dmitri, appearing less than fully awake, emerged immediately upon receiving the report. He combed his hair to the side and smiled amiably.

“Let’s go straight in! Her Highness is already waiting.”

“You knew I would come?”

“Well, you didn’t dine in the quarters tonight!”

Dmitri chuckled, thinking of the restless Elizabeth pacing in her room.

If the mission succeeded, the aerial battleship should have disappeared from the Prychanka airspace.

And if the mission failed, news of Ivan’s demise would have reached them.

Any news would make it difficult to sleep. Anticipating Elizabeth’s worries, Dmitri also handled his duties with wide-open eyes.

“Her Highness is in the sponsor’s seat. Let’s go!”

The sponsor’s seat in the Eastern Palace faced the direction of the inner city road leading to the Yansk University. In other words, sitting in the sponsor’s seat meant one could see the aerial battleship in the sky.

A woman, waiting there, looked up at the sky, awaiting confirmation of the mission’s success or failure. A determined woman, yet one with a complicated heart.

Dmitri walked ahead, chuckling softly.

– We should meet again at a more suitable time, in a more appropriate place.

In the end, their encounter became less romantic than expected. Ivan chuckled, recalling Elizabeth’s words.

*

Ivan headed towards the sponsor’s seat, lost in thought. Remembering Elizabeth’s final appearance as he knew it.

“Sorry. I’m sorry… Vanka. Truly, truly sorry.”

On a dreary day with falling rain, she stood, choked with sobs. A petite woman, it occurred to him how such a woman could be born from the robust lineage of the Sun King.

“You all… No one else but you all had the right to resent me, resent this country. You were entitled to that. Even if I had run away, I wouldn’t have blamed you,” she said, weeping in the rain.

Ivan responded to the weeping princess with something he could quickly recall.

“Do you happen to have roses?”

“…What?”

“Cherenovika liked roses.”

It was both a funeral and a burial ground.

No tombstones, and no condolences from anyone.

A funeral home for those forgotten, commemorating the last moments of agents, mourned by no one. It was a desolate space tucked away in the corner of Prichnaya City, a city reduced to ruins by war until the later establishment of the Intelligence Headquarters.

Under a roofless space, enduring the cold winter rain, Elizaveta asked with a poignant expression, “Do you remember things others liked?”

“Yes. All of them.”

“Tell me. I’ll remember.”

Those words were enough. Ivan quietly began to speak. When he finished, Elizaveta whispered softly.

“Roses, chocolate cake, musk perfume, silk hangers…”

Repeating the names of the departed agents and the things they liked, Elizaveta whispered repeatedly. As the falling rain gradually subsided, she raised her wet eyes and reached out to him.

It was cold. The slender fingers of Elizaveta, stroking his cheek, trembled, perhaps from the chill.

Feeling Elizaveta’s delicate hand that touched his cheek, Ivan stood motionless.

“Vanka, please live quietly. Don’t attract anyone’s attention. Be quiet, so this country can forget you.”

As a specialized agent trained in covert operations, Ivan could even read the unspoken words Elizaveta murmured.

So that only I can remember you.

Because others in this country don’t deserve that privilege.

“But don’t ruin your face. Hmm… yes. Maybe grow a beard like a grandfather. It might suit you.”

“A beard… are you serious?”

“Yes, like a grandfather. It might look good on you.”

Recalling the noble face of the Sun King, Ivan nodded slightly. It was indeed a splendid beard, exuding a dignified and manly charm.

After standing in the rain for a while longer, Ivan turned away and left.

It was their last encounter. Four years had passed since then.

Thanks to the princess’s help, many had forgotten about him.

Fortunately, due to his past as a high-ranking officer who had once been an enemy of the royal guard, his name remained on the national cemetery.

*

Upon passing the entrance of the sanctuary, a vast garden appeared.

Magic meticulously tended flowers bloomed beautifully under the night sky.

Ivan paused for a moment.

Roses, lilies, freesias… to some, the sight of flowers blooming indiscriminately might have seemed like a haphazardly tended garden.

But Ivan understood. This was a memorial park for those who perished in the past war.

Someone had managed to plant the flowers the deceased had favored in their lifetime, ensuring they bloomed throughout the seasons.

So they would never be forgotten.

“Your Highness, Sir Dmitry Cherkatov has arrived.”

“Come closer.”

A cold voice echoed. Beyond the garden, a long outdoor table illuminated by the moonlight came into view, adorned with simple refreshments.

A petite woman rummaging through piles of documents stood beyond.

“Vanka. It’s been a while.”

Tidying her silver hair and securing a navy pin, the woman, different from the militaristic attire Ivan remembered, was clad in royal attire.

In her blue dress, she looked up at him.

As Ivan pondered his words, her eyes widened in shock.

“Oh… my… goodness…”

As a trained agent, Ivan could deduce the unspoken words through her visible surprise.

What on earth did I do…

Her gaze was fixed on Ivan’s jawline.

*

It took some time for Elizaveta to shake off the shock.

She tried hard not to stare directly at Ivan’s face and coughed several times to regain composure.

Finally, as Ivan finished his report, she returned with a cold expression, no longer revealing her perplexity.

“Beaulegreen relayed the message directly.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Hmm.”

Elisabeth tapped the table, lost in thought.

After a moment, she looked up and gazed at the sky. Stars scattered across the dark night sky.

“Banka, the woodsman I trust the most.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“You’ve met my father. What do you think?”

“…The King…”

Listening to Ivan’s words, Elisabeth chuckled and spoke.

“The King, indeed. Is that so?”

“…”

“A foolish fellow who believes that everything will be resolved by keeping quiet and sitting still. I am willing to loathe my father willingly. That’s the only way.”

Her eyes were burning fiercely.

“The United Kingdom feared a sharp blade. Do you know? If the Hero Party had not disbanded, there would have been a second war. A war recorded in history as a war of individuals and groups.”

Since the arrival of the Demon King, the rulers of the United Kingdom were deeply troubled.

The enemy’s military power was fearsome, but what was most frightening was the fact that individuals could overwhelm that military power.

The presence of an individual capable of facing a group is a challenge to authority in itself.

Therefore, if the Hero Party had not disbanded and if they had not returned to society in their respective hometowns, the world would have faced a second war.

“It was said that Maximilian did not disappear… And Beolgreen is looking for my heir.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I will personally handle the ‘fake’ heir in this city. Don’t worry about it. However, I wonder… Why did the ‘real’ heir form a bond with the great mage of the Hero Party.”

Elisabeth’s eyes gleamed sharply.

If we assume that the Hero Party had reasons to disband, just like the reasons you all had to scatter in those days, what if there were reasons for them as well? Setting aside others, if you were to assume that there is someone who must be eliminated no matter what, who do you think that would be?”

“…Maximilian.”

“Yes. That’s right. The strongest of humanity. The top of the hierarchy. Maximilian, the ‘Demon King Slayer.’ That man.”

Beolgreen had planned all of this to identify the true position of the real crown prince.

If he mentioned Maximilian’s hiding place during all this, it would be reasonable to speculate that there was some significant connection between them.

Now there was only one question left.

‘How.’

How could they dare to make that robust man ‘disappear’?

What measures should be taken to eliminate him? Is that even possible? Even Ivan, who knew many strong individuals in the United Kingdom, couldn’t easily come up with a solution.

If all the members of the hero party were to launch a surprise attack on Maximilian, it might be possible.

But that was not the case. And unless such a situation arose, Maximilian would never have fallen into human hands.

“Wait for me. I will find a way… and the reason it had to be this way.”

“Yes.”

“Sit down. I’ve kept the guest standing for too long. Please forgive me.”

Ivan took the seat prepared for him. A maid approached, pouring fragrant hot tea into his cup.

-Sip.

Elisabeth pulled a chair over and sat beside him.

“Let’s postpone talk of business for a moment. Now, yes, let’s enjoy the present.”

“….”

“Four years, Vanka. I hoped our reunion would be more romantic than this, but well, life doesn’t always flow as expected.”

They sat side by side, gazing at the garden.

Flowers shimmered under the moonlight, swaying gently in the breeze.

“Do you recognize it?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

The petite woman, whose presence only reached his chest, still faintly smiled.

It was a smile that carried traces of the lively days, stained with deep fatigue and pain but still radiating vibrancy.

“If you step out onto the terrace from my study, you can see this garden straight away.”

“Your Highness, I hope you haven’t seen the flowers.”

“Hmm?”

“There was something His Majesty said to me when he came to the Royal Guard.”

Ivan chose his words carefully, recalling the days he served in the Royal Guard.

“War, hardship, the price of blood — these are your duties. But, Your Highness, you desired to live looking at the sky, not the earth.”

“….”

Elisabeth silently caressed the teacup. Ivan looked up at the sky.

The night sky was scattered with stars like grains of sand.

If there was one rare advantage in this pre-modern fantasy world with its scarce glimmers of enlightenment, it might be the beauty of the night sky.

Ivan spoke in a calm voice.

“When His Majesty sees the flowers, he mentions those who have departed. However, that is not accurate. Do you recall our motto?”

“…Do not mourn those who have left.”

“Yes, because we stand in the same ranks as them. All of us will eventually leave this land.”

Ivan’s words made Elizaveta close her eyes.

He poured tea into Elizaveta’s cup and handed it to her.

The white teacup was gently warmed by the black tea. It was soothingly warm.

“Please, Your Highness, continue to uphold the legacy of the late king. Look to the sky, not the land, as you move forward. When drawing those who have departed, it is better to gaze at the night sky.”

Elizaveta opened her eyes at his words. The night sky was not dark. Beyond the black sky, between suddenly emerging clouds, starlight gracefully unfolded.

“Do not depict the departed in flowers. Count us as stars. They, too, must be hoping for that from Your Majesty.”

“Vanka…”

Elizaveta turned her gaze to Ivan.

She stared at him with tear-filled eyes for a while before reaching out quietly.

The hand, warmed by the teacup, rested on his cheek. After gazing at him for a moment, Elizaveta asked softly.

“How about trimming your beard a bit?”

“…As you wish.”

“If I order?”

“My loyalty has already resigned.”

“It seems your eloquence has only increased since then.”

After making a statement that would vehemently provoke Enrique, Elizaveta burst into laughter.

* * *