However, many things were different. This place wasn’t the underground prison of the royal palace, and Vetria hadn’t had her arm completely shattered when she was subdued, so her limbs were still intact. Her normally neat blue hair was disheveled, but even so, it was hard to say she looked completely ruined.
“…You’ve all come.”
The pain seeped through her cracked voice. Ever since regaining consciousness, she had refused not only Purification but also the care of physicians, so her physical condition must have been horrific. The aftermath of her rampage had likely left her insides ravaged.
“What is her condition, Duke?”
At Bridehit’s question, Vetria, who had weakly lifted her head, lowered it again.
“As you see.”
Hearing her faint muttering, Aster stepped forward.
“Do you have any idea what triggered your rampage, Duke? From what I know, you and Aunt Parma have always conducted Purification properly without issue. If there’s anything you’re hiding, it would be wise to confess now. You must understand that the only reason you’re still breathing after that rampage is thanks to Duke Axid.”
Though Vetria’s fate would be decided by a joint deliberation of the Tithers and Guides, the royal family’s influence weighed heavily on the outcome. At Aster’s words, Vetria raised her head and cried out.
“Marchioness Parma fulfilled her duties without fail! I swear, Your Highness, she has never once been negligent with the Purification. This is the first time—truly, the first time anything like this has happened!”
Bridehit asked in a regretful tone.
“But why was it at that moment, Vetria Duke, that you lost control?”
It had indeed occurred under the worst possible circumstances. Still, rampage was not something a Tither chose. Those who bore such power lived with its price—a constant looming danger that could never be predicted or fully prevented.
There was likely no one who understood that better than Seiyad. Perhaps that was why a cold, sarcastic remark didn’t come from Vetria, but from Seiyad himself.
“How could she possibly know? A rampage isn’t something that happens because one wants it to.”
Bridehit faltered, looking at Seiyad with an expression of surprise.
What they needed now was not blame but understanding of the cause. Her rampage had broken out in the middle of battle. While high-intensity exertion could increase the risk, it was strange for it to happen under the care of regular Purification…
There might have been a flaw in the Purification itself.
Guides existed precisely to prevent this sort of rampage. If a Tither lost control, didn’t that imply that the Guide had failed in their role?
A thought Seiyad had long considered a personal issue was growing larger. Yet it was tricky to pin everything solely on Purification, because historically, there had been many Tithers who never encountered a proper Guide. Those people would have never experienced complete Purification in their lives—yet the number of recorded rampages was disproportionately low.
Seiyad realized he knew far less about Guides and Tithers than he had assumed. What he had dismissed as his own burden might be something woven into a much larger, historical pattern.
“Anything at all is fine. Do you suspect another cause?”
At Aster’s question, Vetria clamped her mouth shut. Her lips parted as if to speak, but in the end, she only lowered her head without a word.
“I don’t know. All I’m sure of is that… I’m no longer someone who should be walking freely in the outside world…”
“A Tither who has rampaged once is like a spark waiting to ignite again. As you say, we’ll decide your fate in tomorrow’s council.”
“…I understand.”
Vetria looked utterly broken, with not a trace of her usual boldness or pride. Her unstable voice stirred something sharp in Seiyad. Compared to what his mother had endured, what Vetria was going through now was practically humane—yet she was this tormented. The irony was bitter. But what irritated him even more was the fact that he alone could understand what Vetria was feeling.
“I’ll be going now.”
With that, Aster turned away. Bridehit lingered for a moment, gazing at Vetria with a troubled expression. Realizing there was nothing he could do, he followed the crown prince. But Seiyad did not.
“I’ll join you shortly.”
“The discussion is over. What business remains, Seiyad?”
Aster looked at him with suspicion. After all, he wasn’t close enough to Vetria to justify staying behind alone.
“It’s an old tower, and it hasn’t been maintained in a long time. I thought I’d take a quick look around. It’d be troublesome if the Duke were to lose herself again and escape. As the master of the castle, it’s my responsibility.”
Vetria didn’t seem capable of such a thing at the moment, but still.
“It’s cold in the tower. Come back to the castle soon.”
Aster set aside his suspicion. Bridehit looked between him and the crown prince, then descended the tower with a worried expression. Seiyad waited a long time, until the sound of their footsteps vanished down the stairs. Once the silence settled in, he approached Vetria.
She looked like a living corpse, her head bowed deeply, but slowly, she turned her gaze toward Seiyad. For a while, neither spoke. Just as Seiyad was about to ask about what had happened during the rampage—
“…To the Duke, I must look pathetic, even laughable. That I criticized Serena, only to go through the same thing myself… Seems like we really do reap what we sow.”
Vetria’s voice cracked and faded.
“All Tithers fear the rampage, yet believe it will never happen to them. I was no different. Even after seeing what happened to Serena, I thought—it was her fault. I thought it was her weakness.”
Tears streamed from Vetria’s teal eyes as she lifted her head.
“I never considered that, like you just said, it wasn’t something I chose.”
This wasn’t the conversation Seiyad had intended to have with Vetria. He had no desire to exchange words with someone who had betrayed his mother. And yet, strangely, he found it difficult to ignore what she had said. Though he still firmly believed his mother had not gone on a rampage, apart from that, there were things he wanted to say to those like Vetria.
“Was my mother truly a dear friend to you?”
Vetria’s lips parted—then closed again.
“Even if her words were hard to believe, did you ever try to stand by her, simply because she was someone you trusted and loved? Did you at least try to protect someone precious to you, even if it meant sacrificing something?”
“There were too many witnesses. Even the Queen herself was in danger. Saving Serena’s life… it was impossible.”
“I didn’t expect that from you.”
What Seiyad had wanted… was something far simpler. Just for someone—anyone—to pretend they believed his mother. Not to simply accept the majority’s version of the story and repeat it verbatim.
“It was that half-hearted stance I found disgusting.”
Vetria had tried to act the part of his mother’s friend. She had cared for the neglected siblings of the Brosius family, made a spirit tablet to honor his mother when a proper funeral wasn’t allowed, and even helped with his father’s funeral after his suicide.
But behind all those gestures of kindness, there had never been any belief in his mother. Vetria had always told Seiyad, “Be careful not to repeat your mother’s sins.”
It was like telling someone to stop a natural disaster with their bare hands.
“Then why did you go through the trouble of subduing me and bringing me here? With your skills, killing me would’ve been far easier.”
“If I’d fought Nir’a and you at the same time, Duke Bridehit would’ve gotten hurt.”
“And since when have you cared about others’ safety? Weren’t you the one who decided four years ago to stop being that kind of person?”
Vetria brought up the reinforcements—an old story now, one that couldn’t be undone unless time itself was rewound. Like with Ressas, Seiyad had thought it best to simply let it pass. But for some reason, his heart dug in its heels.
Maybe it was the unguarded glimpse of vulnerability shown by the Iron Duke of the East.
“I don’t know if you remember, but that winter was the first time I ever had to lead through a harsh season. Many knights who had served loyally for generations died because of my judgment.”
Vetria flinched. Her bloodshot eyes stared blankly at Seiyad.
“I had no one left to send to help you. If the North collapsed, the East, which bordered it, would’ve followed.”
She had treated him like he didn’t exist, and they weren’t close by any means—but perhaps because of that, there were some things he could say more easily.
“I don’t want to see any more people die.”
He had seen more than enough—enough to be sickened by it. Seiyad had been rotting alive for a very long time.
“I never once wished for your death, Duke. I stayed because there was something I wanted to ask.”
Vetria, her complexion deathly pale, stayed silent for a moment. Then came a fragile sob, and the sound of ragged, painful breathing. After a long pause, she lifted her head and steadied her gaze.
“What do you want to know?”
“Were there any strange sensations or signs beforehand? Auditory hallucinations, visual ones—anything like that?”
Vetria’s teal eyes studied Seiyad, intrigued—as if wondering how he could know to ask that.
“No, there was nothing like that until now. I was focused entirely on managing my power while fighting Nir’a. Then… everything went black. I woke up here.”
So she hadn’t experienced the hallucinations Seiyad had. As he wondered where to even begin unraveling the cause of her rampage, Vetria suddenly stood. She walked to the iron bars like someone gripped by madness and pressed her face close between them.
“I’d never felt anything strange before, and Purification with Parma was always stable. There was only one new variable that happened to me, Duke.”
Her nerves frayed and her expression full of dread, she whispered like a ghost.
“The Purification I received from His Highness the Crown Prince before entering the forest. It was the first time I’d ever received it from someone other than Marchioness Parma. I didn’t notice anything unusual… but it was different from Parma.”
In that moment, a sharp chill crawled up the back of Seiyad’s neck. His whole body went cold.
“I know it doesn’t make sense. I know it’s blasphemous and unforgivable to even say it. But I’m a sinner who could die any day now. I felt like you, at the very least, should know. I know this might mean nothing at all, but…”
Beyond the bars, Vetria’s lips trembled. Even after speaking, the words seemed too heavy to bear, and she staggered back.
If both his rampage and the Duke’s were connected to Aster…
There was no explanation that made sense, and yet the facts before him pointed clearly in one direction. Seiyad’s expression hardened as he turned to organize what he had learned. But just before he left, he spoke briefly to the desolate Vetria.
“You didn’t kill anyone.”
He turned his back without hesitation and walked out of the corridor. And just before he disappeared from Vetria’s view, her voice echoed clearly through the bars.
“…I’m sorry, Duke.”
What Duke she meant… only Vetria herself would know.
