Moria

Shortly after Shaya and the other person left the hospital, the Imperial Capital's sky was enveloped by dark clouds. Under the leaden sky, the entire avenue was submerged in thick mist.

The Imperial Palace was also covered by a gray curtain of water, as if standing in a dense fog. The entire Imperial Capital was shrouded in a somber atmosphere.

Moria's room was on the east side of the Imperial Palace, to the left of the Emperor's oval office where he handled state affairs. It could be entered directly through the door.

Compared to Alicia's room, this room was more in line with royal grandeur. It was over a hundred square meters, with a luxurious short-pile carpet covering the floor, and even the walls were made of velvet.

The furniture inside was custom-made by famous masters. Even the wood used was of considerable value. The ceiling was adorned with a dazzling golden inlay, and the curtains were made of lustrous satin fabric.

The portrait was clearly the work of a top artist, with every detail meticulously rendered, just like a photograph. The portrait depicted a woman.

A woman with long black hair, wearing a cyan long dress with a large skirt, sat on a chair with her legs together and tilted to one side, her hands resting on her thighs. She was elegant and dignified.

Her appearance was very similar to Alicia's, but compared to Alicia, her features were more Eastern, possessing a gentle warmth.

"That's Moria's wife, Anya," Sebas said.

In a corner of the bedroom, Shaya and Sebas were sitting on opposite sides of a three-legged table. Some court pastries were placed on the table, which Sebas had brought from somewhere.

Shaya recognized one of the pastries; he had eaten it before. It was called a Napoleon Cake.

However, it had no relation to Napoleon; it was merely a misunderstanding due to homophones.

The French name for this cake is Mille-feuille, meaning "thousand layers of pastry," hence it is also known as thousand-layer pastry.

He had only eaten it once because it was too expensive, and the puff pastry process was very complicated.

Shaya picked up a Napoleon and examined it closely. It was slightly different from the ones he had eaten before, but the layers between the puff pastry were still rich, containing not only fresh cream but also custard.

He tried taking a bite. The crispy, flaky pastry yielded, and then he tasted the smooth texture of the fresh cream and custard within. The milky fragrance bloomed, and multiple layers of flavor unfolded on his taste buds, with a moderate sweetness.

After losing his heart, his appetite was one of the few desires he still possessed.

Shaya took out the wine Sebas had given him earlier and produced two glass wine glasses from somewhere.

He uncorked the wine and poured it into the glasses. Under the glass, the wine exuded a captivating rose-like pink hue.

He extended one of the glasses filled with wine towards Sebas, indicating a toast.

But Sebas made no move. He looked at the glass of wine in front of him, a clear struggle on his face, then gave Shaya a helpless smile.

"Wait until I finish my last order. There was a Grim Reaper who liked to drink while working and ended up making a huge mess."

Shaya raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Indeed, that should be the case."

He took back his wine glass and took a sip. The rich aroma of the wine bloomed between his lips and teeth, and every taste bud on his tongue rejoiced. It was not just a physical pleasure but also a clarity of soul and spirit.

Even after it had long since entered his stomach, the lingering fragrance still danced between his lips and teeth.

The alcohol content was within his tolerance. Wine wasn't better the higher the alcohol content; it also depended on the overall brewing process. There were also many low-alcohol wines that many people enjoyed.

While savoring the red wine, Shaya looked towards another corner of the bedroom.

Yes, there were quite a few people in the room. On the bed lay a gaunt old man with white hair, appearing to be on his deathbed, but seemingly sustained by some lingering resolve.

Clearly, this must be the Emperor of Britannia, Moria, as Sebas had mentioned.

Even the ruler of this vast empire, spanning over ten million square kilometers, was no different from an ordinary person when facing death.

Many people were gathered around, including doctors in black robes and noble men and women of varying ages dressed in finery.

However, none of them noticed that in the corner of the bedroom, two people, whom no one recognized, were quietly observing everything while enjoying pastries.

They couldn't even smell the wine emanating from the wine; it was as if an invisible barrier had divided them into two dimensions.

A beautiful young woman was sitting by the bed, holding the emaciated hand of the dying old man in one hand and wiping the tears from her eyes with a tissue in the other.

She looked very young, with no wrinkles on her face, but her eyes and demeanor were mature, appearing to be around thirty years old. She had permed her hair in a Roman curl, a style favored by many European noblewomen, and wore a beige long dress.

"That's Moria's eldest daughter, Isabelle," Sebas introduced. "The first in line for imperial succession. The blonde man next to her is her husband, Fasther, a prince from a fallen royal family who abdicated his throne and became a citizen of Britannia."

Shaya nodded. Just then, the door on the side suddenly opened, and another, even younger woman stumbled in.

She looked very much like Isabelle, but her hair was longer.

"Father, Father!"

The woman cried out choked with sobs upon seeing Moria's condition. She leaned against the bedside, grabbed Moria's other hand, and sobbed quietly.

"I'm back, Father."

"That must be his second daughter, right?" Shaya asked.

Sebas nodded. "Her name is Eugenia."

He paused and continued, "The Emperor's health hasn't been good these past few years. His two daughters, his brother, and various factions behind them have all been seizing this opportunity to vie for power."

Shaya nodded. This must be the reason why people like Director Rick appeared.

Moria's cloudy eyes turned, but not towards the woman. Instead, he glanced at the door she had come through. The door was still slightly ajar, but no one else was entering.

Isabelle seemed to know what Moria was thinking and said, "Don't worry, Father. We've mobilized the entire Imperial Capital's secret police, as well as the surrounding armies.

Tomorrow, we will issue a public announcement, a nationwide bounty, mobilizing civilian forces."

"As long as she's still in Britannia, we'll definitely find Alicia."

Her husband, Fasther, added from the side, "Alicia is third in line for the throne. If this is about succession disputes or anything else, she'll most likely be used as a bargaining chip against us. So, she should be safe until they get what they want."

Moria remained silent. He withdrew his gaze from the large door and took several deep breaths, his complexion returning to a healthier hue.

He gazed at the portrait before him, his eyes deep as if recalling past events, then slowly began to speak.

"When Alicia first arrived at the palace, she really disliked the etiquette lessons.

So, she often found ways to skip them.

Pretending to be sick, or hiding.

But none of it worked."

His voice was hoarse and weak.

"Later... she cried to me every day, so I told her about a few secret passages in the palace.

When I was little, I often used those passages to sneak out and play. I got scolded a lot for it.

But she was much smarter than me; she'd only be gone for a few hours before returning.

This made the maids think that Princess Alicia had a special talent for hide-and-seek."

Moria's lips curved into a smile.

He paused, took a deep breath, and continued, "But one day, she was discovered."

"She was missing for a very, very long time.

The guards I stationed outside the palace to watch her confirmed she had entered the secret passage, but she couldn't be found anywhere, neither in the palace nor in the passage.

At that time, just like now, many people searched for her, but couldn't find her.

Guess where she was finally found?"

Moria chuckled, but then began to cough violently. After a moment, he continued.

"In a hard-to-see corner of the secret passage, she was asleep.

Tens of thousands of people across the entire Imperial Capital were looking for her, worried about her, but she was just sleeping soundly there.

Later, your mother severely scolded both Alicia and me."

Isabelle seemed to recall the scene as well, a smile involuntarily appearing on her face.

But then, she heard Moria continue.

"But now... she probably can't even find the entrance to the secret passage anymore.

I've lost her again, and your mother will probably scold me again."

Isabelle looked up. Moria was staring blankly ahead. She turned her head and saw the portrait of her mother.

Her eyes welled up again, and she lowered her head, remaining silent.

"That cup of milk back then was meant for me," Moria's voice was very weak. "I should have been the one to go blind."

"It's not your fault, it was those traitorous rebels who wanted to assassinate the emperor!" Eugenia said emotionally.

"No, it's because of me."

Moria stared at the portrait, his eyes distant, as if imagining another possibility.

"If I hadn't returned to the palace, inherited this throne, and gotten caught in this endless vortex.

Perhaps she wouldn't have gone blind, and your mother might not have died.

Perhaps Alicia wouldn't have gone missing, her whereabouts unknown."

He gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"But where are there so many 'what ifs' in this world?"

Suddenly, he began to cough violently again, this time more intensely, as if trying to cough up his lungs. Then, a mouthful of blackish-red blood stained the blanket.

"Father!" Eugenia cried out in alarm.

Moria tightly gripped Eugenia and Isabelle's hands. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, and he was gasping for air, but his breaths were shallow.

He looked at his two daughters, his trembling lips struggling to form a few syllables, but they were already unintelligible.

"I will find her, Father," Isabelle responded tearfully, unsure if she had truly understood.

Moria looked at the portrait not far away. The eyes filled with obsession had completely lost their luster. His mouth opened and closed slightly, his face drained of color, like a withered branch, full of death.

Isabelle and Eugenia kept calling out to their father, weeping and calling.

But he no longer responded.