The Tragedy of Emmental — Middle Chapter

It had been three months since the family had gathered at the Emmental Estate.

Of course, the daughters were absent.

They had been summoned for an important discussion regarding the future of Emmental.

All faces were present in the room save for Cain’s.

The recent reputation of the Emmental family had been nothing but poor, quietly ostracized from society as if cast aside.

Fret, who served in the court, had only just returned to the imperial capital two or three days prior after being deployed on a punitive expedition to the frontier provinces.

Cain had not returned to the Emmental Estate much at all since the birth of his child, having remained at his wife’s family home.

Alex continued to quietly carry out his duties as a tutor, while also composing music and writing scripts, which he had been doing in the estate.

And now, as if possessed, he was completing a script that had not been requested of him.

She received no invitations to social gatherings, and spent her days without holding tea parties or salons.

She had been obliged to comply, though with regret, when her grandson's family requested she refrain from visiting for the time being.

Only Mascy remained constantly busy, never returning to the manor from morning till night, yet the atmosphere within the house remained dark and heavy.

When all such figures had gathered, it was silence that governed the room, with no topic upon which to focus.

The heavy door was knocked upon.

The steward announced the arrival of Cain and the Third Prince.

Though the Third Prince had not been summoned to this gathering, Mascy accepted that he was the royal overseer and instructed that he be admitted.

The players had all taken their places.

Mascy spoke.

First, he bowed to the royal visitor—the Prince who was also a victim of the recent turmoil.

"Your Highness, the great star who guards the Empire, Prince Arthur."

Your Highness, thank you for gracing us with your presence.

May I assume you are here as the royal representative today?"

Arthur nodded.

"My father—the Emperor—has entrusted me with witnessing this matter personally. I shall see it through, no matter the judgment.

And I am pleased to have received your favorable response regarding the matter from earlier. Though it may take time, I shall rely on your guidance.

Indeed, Lord Cain has also made his request."

Arthur turned to look at Cain.

Cain bowed silently in return, a gesture of thanks.

"Thank you. With Your Highness as witness, I feel reassured.

That matter—Spica, too… I am certain Your Highness’s elder will wish it as well…

But what did Cain ask of Your Highness?"

Arthur withdrew a small wrapped parcel from his pocket and placed it upon the table surrounded by family.

"Lord Cain has requested that I lend him this."

"It is something I no longer need.

The execution of Your Highness’s daughter was carried out yesterday."

This is a keepsake, and so I have come to return it."

As the cloth was untied, a pale blue Sacred Stone came into view.

Upon closer inspection, a slight warping was visible, the grain coarse and prominent—this was the very stone Stella had given to Arthur as a token of their betrothal.

The execution has been carried out…

The announcement came as if it meant nothing at all, and for a moment, the gathering struggled to grasp its weight.

It was, without doubt, news of a family’s loss, yet it felt distant, as though it belonged to another world.

Still, it was true—this was the final farewell to one daughter, and within this small circle, a few held grief in silence.

"Why did you ask for this to be lent?"

Amid the heavy air, Mascy turned sharply toward Cain, his face twisted.

"I wished to prove the matter we discussed recently, here and now.

I asked because I believed it would be the catalyst for my steps forward into a new path."

Placing a thick card beside the Sacred Stone that Stella had set down, he said,

“I will leave the lineage of Emmental once this proof is complete. From now on, I shall enter my wife’s family and renounce my right to inherit the estate.”

“Cain?”

The lady’s eyes widened as she stared at him.

She could not believe the words spoken by her eldest son—her heir, raised from childhood to inherit the family name.

“Mother, please be calm. Only I will leave Emmental’s lineage. My son does not lose his right to inherit.

It is the condition set by my father-in-law that I enter my wife’s household while my son retains his inheritance rights…

Only his name will change.

Father has already consented.”

Cain spoke gently, seeking to soothe his mother.

He regretted the cruelty he had shown to his wife and sister, and now sought only to preserve his family. He pondered what he might do, how he might once again stand by their side.

He spoke repeatedly with his wife and her family.

His guilt would not vanish. Yet even as he was crushed by the truth that he had harmed his wife and her kin, this was the condition offered to him as a chance to begin anew.

‘If you truly love your daughter, can you abandon your family and become her husband?

Are you willing to forsake your position as heir to the great estate, just to spend your life with her?

Can you, without burdening even your grandchildren, bear that responsibility…

You couldn’t possibly do such a thing…’

The Marquis had meant to say that to him—You couldn’t possibly do such a thing.

The nobleman, whose own family had been scorned and whose beloved daughter had been wounded, was filled with righteous anger.

He could not overlook the actions of the Emmental family toward Spica, whom his daughter now revered as a benefactor.

The father’s fear—that his daughter would tread the same path—was not born of malice, but only of a longing for her happiness.

Cain understood at last that, as much as he was, he could not truly be forgiven without redeeming his sins through his own actions.

He was struck down by the reality that no matter how many words he spoke, he would not be believed unless he atoned for his guilt with deeds of his own.

Because he stood on the side of what truly needed protection, Cain had made the decision to sever ties with the great estate, with the title of heir, with his future, and with his blood family.

Yet this was Cain’s burden. He could not allow his newborn son to bear the weight of his sin, and so he asked his father for permission to leave the family register, leaving behind a future in which his son might still choose his own path.

Mascy had also been made aware of the son’s judgment and determination. He promised to respect the boy’s choice and not to take away the rights of his grandson.

But the one who must decide is a child just born.

Whether he will wish to inherit the land of Emmental, where his great aunt lies in rest, or desire to depart from this unremarkable place—only time will tell.

None present know of this truth, and they are struck dumb by Cain’s sudden declaration.

How could they imagine that Cain, who has lived his life thus far as heir to the great estate, would abandon that path...

Yet he himself is at peace with it, and the current head has granted his wish.

Then who shall become the next head?

At once, they understand. This gathering was summoned for this purpose...

Thus, they wait in silence for the head to speak.

“Just as Cain has said, Cain shall enter the Maison de Mélyjène. From this point forward, he shall be severed from the Emmental line, renouncing inheritance rights and all claim to influence.”

As Cain had said, his son Alba was granted exceptional inheritance rights to Emmental. Whether he might one day support the future of Emmental through an alliance marriage remains uncertain—only time will tell.

Mascy looked once more at all present.

“And since this matter has been raised, I shall now speak of today’s true purpose.

Today’s purpose is the announcement of my retirement as head and the designation of the next heir.

I shall retire, taking full responsibility for the recent turmoil, and spend the remainder of my days in penance within the Emmental lands.”

Cain, having heard this beforehand, remained calm. The other two brothers, however, widened their eyes in surprise. Yet beneath that shock, they also felt it was inevitable…

Now that the elder brother, who had been groomed as heir for so long, was stepping aside, they exchanged glances, wondering which of the remaining brothers would be the next candidate.

Alex had been educated with the understanding that he would renounce his noble status, and Fret had openly declared his intent to make his name as a knight, receiving no formal instruction from the family.

Of all the siblings, the eldest, Cain, possessed the deepest knowledge of household affairs and estate management, followed closely by Spica.

Thus, both believed that whoever was chosen would inevitably face hardship.

Mascy shook his head at the two sons, who looked bewildered.

"Rest easy. Neither of you shall inherit this seat.

We, who danced to malice’s tune and cast aside our kin, driven to despair—how could such a pair be worthy?"

Alex exhaled deeply, relief washing over him. Fret, for his part, let a trace of disappointment show on his face.

"Then who shall become the next head of the house?"

Alex asked his father.

"Jacomo. I have already received word of his acceptance and the preparations for his return."

Jacomo was the younger brother of Mascy, just beneath him in line.

A capable and gifted brother, his presence within the country would have been a source of distress for his elder sibling, the designated heir.

To avoid unnecessary strife and to dedicate his own abilities to the service of the nation, he had long served abroad as a diplomat.

Though currently stationed as ambassador to a neighboring realm, he had now been recalled, for the matter at hand was of grave importance to the family lineage.

He had originally been trained as Mascy’s successor, receiving the full suite of heir-apparent education. His practical abilities were so exceptional that the nation itself mourned his absence. In truth, within the Emmental family, no one else came to mind as more suited to succeed Mascy.

His lack of a family was a drawback, but the clan still held younger blood.

There were prospects such as Luke from the Pastry branch, or Albah, the son of Cain. With proper guidance, these young ones could be nurtured into capable heirs. Mascy spoke thus.

"Sir, what will become of me? Must I leave the capital in this manner?"

Suddenly, the lady asked Mascy in a trembling voice.

Mascy gently takes the lady’s hand, her gaze soft with pity.

As soon as I have finished handing over to Jacomo, I will go to Emmental.

I would be pleased if you would come with me. Yet I will not force you. Still, I do not believe it is good for you to remain in the imperial capital.

Of course, returning to one's family home or taking vows is a freedom, but this mansion must be left behind. I wish to face the time that remains with my own sins. How comforting it would be if you were by my side...

The lady sheds quiet tears, her face a mask of sorrow. The house is filled with memories.

This manor is one she has spent more time in than her own family home.

She understands why it is hard to leave. This place may be the only shelter now that protects the lady. Only she can know the anxiety of having to depart from it.

Mascy, calming the weeping lady, continued.

“Even if Jacomo comes, there is still time. Consider your futures before then. With my retirement, Alex, Fret, and you—your precedence in inheriting the family estate will be nearly meaningless. Keep that in mind…”

The two, told to consider their futures within the limited time remaining, began to realize anew that this place would no longer be their home.

“I understand Father’s intentions. I understand why my elder brother must leave the house. But what is my elder brother trying to prove, exactly?”

Fret, perhaps struck by a sudden thought, asked.

Ah, I truly wished to confirm whether Stella was not our sister, or whether Spica was indeed our sister.

I felt I could not move forward unless I did.

Speaking thus, he once again picked up the thick card he had placed on the table earlier.

“This is a magical artifact that uses sacred power to verify blood ties.

When the Sacred Stone is placed in the central depression, or sacred power is channeled directly, it compares the registered sacred power and confirms parentage.

Currently, my sacred power and Merujune’s are registered.”

As he spoke, he set Stella’s Sacred Stone into the card’s depression.

The card showed no reaction whatsoever.

“Nothing’s happening! Is it broken?”

Fret spoke without concealing his irritation.

“This is still a prototype, after all. It can only verify relationships up to first-degree kin at present. So it is sufficient.

Father, Mother—would you both please assist?”

Saying this, Cain placed his fingers on the upper edges of the card and silently petitioned his parents to channel sacred energy.

His parents hesitated slightly, but complied.

Fret alone protested, “Do we really need to do that?!”—but was silenced by the Third Prince, who said, “Let him do as he pleases. If it moves things forward, what harm is there?”

Then, once more, Stella’s Sacred Stone was placed upon the card where Mascy’s and Biore’s sacred energies had been registered.

Nothing happened.

“Now what have we learned? Nothing’s happening…?”

As if speaking for all who stood uncertain, the lady asked.

“What we’ve learned is this: the lack of blood connection between Stella and my father and mother has been proven.

That means, as we suspected, Stella was truly a stranger to us all…”

“Who cares what a useless failure like that proves? Nothing happened!”

Fret seemed afraid of what his elder brother might do next.

Cain removed the Sacred Stone from the magical artifact and gently pressed it against his own finger.

The device flared with light for an instant, and then the gem embedded near the upper edges of the groove—on either side—began to glow brightly.

“When both gems shine, it indicates an almost certain bond of parent and child.

Just as it is now…

Even in cases of half-siblings or unrelated bloodlines, only one gem would light up.

But Stella… nothing happened. That means she is no kin at all.

There is someone else I wish to know now…”

With that, Cain drew a Sacred Stone from his chest pocket.

It was a stone of blue, veined with white clouds, its surface bearing the dull, cloudy texture of frosted glass.

Yes, it was Spica’s Sacred Stone.

Fret’s eyes widened in shock as he saw it.

“Cain Elder, stop! Please, stop! I beg you!”

They all understood that Fret’s fear stemmed from this proof. That he did not wish to be proven—Spica truly was his sister. That the thought of being forced to face the truth, to no longer turn away, was what frightened him most. He projected his own dread onto her.

They all shared the same terror. And so, with resolve to bear it together, Mascy pressed his hand firmly onto Fret’s shoulder.

“Try it. If it allows you to move forward, then do it.”

Cain nodded at his father’s words. With his younger brother’s eyes brimming with tears, he placed the stone upon the magical device.

In an instant, the device flared as before, and light ignited within the gemstones on either side.

Their parents covered their eyes, overwhelmed—Spica truly was their daughter, as real as they had hoped.

Cain stared at the light emanating from the device, as though some curse had been lifted.

Alex clenched his lips, fists tightening as if enduring physical pain, his eyes squeezed shut.

The third prince gazed at the Sacred Stone atop the device, his eyes heavy with sorrow.

While all struggled within their own hearts, Fret alone rose in silence and grasped the hilt of the sword set beside him.

Then, one word: “It’s your fault!!!”

He drew his blade and charged forward.

Red flowers bloomed within the chamber.