Chapter 281 281. Epilogue, Part IX

Translator: Khan

Editor: Aelryinth

"Austern is the center of culture and fashion, but it has a very small artistic community. Right now, I think there’s almost no activity by new artists, other than the existing ones."

Julietta handed Oswald a cultural business plan she had prepared. "Many people oppose it, saying that sponsoring artists by the imperial family is wasting tax money. So, I want the Duke of Oswald to step up to the front and discover the artists and support their activities. Of course, I’ll cover the entire cost."

Oswald’s eyes twinkled, moved by this action. "You’ve also noticed this Oswald’s long-cherished desire. Please leave it to me and watch. In the future peaceful era, the country with the cultural power will dominate the continent. Right now, even if Austern is at the forefront of the continent, it may soon be caught."

Oswald was excited and preached about his dream. Julietta nodded and replied favorably, "That’s a very wise idea. It’s just like you said. Therefore, please do me the favor."

"Do you have any other plans?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t believe you’re devoted to child care. You won’t just step forward. I know you’re planning a lot of things."

"I will talk to you after I tell His Majesty the Emperor first. He may not allow it."

At Julietta’s words, Oswald shook his hand as if that were nonsense. "There is no way he would object to what the Empress is doing. By the way, please ease the anger of His Majesty. I’ve been dreading his countenance for a year already because of that jewel on your neck."

"Who’s angry?" Killian stood behind Oswald and asked tightly.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Oh, no. I have to go now because I’ve got an urgent matter to attend to."

After a year, he could finally have his spare time. Oswald gently dropped his report where Julietta pointed and disappeared, terrified that Killian would give him another job.

Killian approached Julietta without even looking at Oswald and kissed her on the lips. "I’m here for a while, defeating the Duke of Haint’s request for lunch. Compliment me."

"Good job." As Julietta praised Philip, she patted Killian’s buttocks.

"I want another compliment besides this, I..." Killian quietly uttered, lowering his lips down Julietta’s neck, but as if he had waited for the moment, Luar burst into a loud cry in the next room. Killian grumbled when Julietta got up with a push. "Who does our second son’s personality resemble? He cries very loud and his temper is not very normal."

Julietta snorted as she entered the room where Luar was staying. "It’s just the way you look, your personality is. Philip looks like me, so he’s gentle."

Killian looked regretfully at the room had Julietta entered, and asked the waiting Ian. "Will the third child be fifty-fifty, since the first resembles Julietta and the second resembles me? How pretty a daughter like that would be! But pregnancy and childbirth are so hard that it’s too much for her. I felt like I’d gone to the entrance to Hell this time with Luar."

Julietta had little trouble with her first child, Philip, but she had two days of hard labor for her second child, Luar. Killian didn’t want to repeat that terrible time.

Ian hesitated for a moment and answered with courage. "A Prince may be born who looks more like no one than a half-half one."

At Ian’s answer, Killian slapped his knee. "I see. I didn’t think of that. Yeah, I can finally get over it. Thank you, Ian. I think you are getting more and more like Albert, but that’s just my feeling. Isn’t it?"

Ian calmly replied that he would never look like Albert. "Yes, that can’t be. Shall we bring the meal?"

As he left the room to bring a meal, Killian’s head, looking at Ian’s back, tilted slightly to one side. Because he felt like he saw a white handkerchief sticking out of Ian’s right pocket. "I must have seen nothing. I’ve been overworked lately."

Killian leaned his head against the couch and convinced himself that he was tired and saw nothing.

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A Letter of Misfortune and Murder in the Back Room

Luar, the second Prince of the Austern Empire, turned eleven years old this year, came back from playing at his friend Iron Lazar’s house and was eating snacks. Vera found a letter in his pocket while she was cleaning up his jacket and put it down on the table.

"You can throw it away. Iron plays with it."

Drinking tea next to him, Julietta asked, "What kind of a practical joke is that?"

"He said that it’s a letter of misfortune. If I don’t send it to five people, bad luck will come... It’s like that."

Julietta burst out laughing at Luar’s words. ’Oh, my God, there’s a letter of misfortune here, too. I guess the places where people live are the same.’

"Luar, you are praiseworthy. When most people get a letter like that, they get nervous and send it to someone else."

"Yes. Iron was wondering who to give it to. So I got one."

The letter of misfortune that Luar had received was thus abandoned by Vera. They thought it was someone’s practical joke and didn’t take it seriously.

But that evening. Luar, who did not get sick easily, got suddenly fevered and said that he had a headache, and frightened people.

---

"He’s all right. There is nothing serious and the fever’s normal now."

Fortunately, as the royal physician said, the fever, which had suddenly risen, quickly fell as if nothing had happened, and Luar fell asleep.

The next morning, Julietta said, sweeping down her son’s cheek. "Don’t go out today and stay calm. I told your teachers that I will postpone your class until tomorrow."

Luar’s expression became gloomy when she said he would not study, but couldn’t go out.

"Iron is coming to play this afternoon. So, stay in bed until then."

Julietta asked Manny on the bed to keep an eye on her son and went outside.

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"It’s because of the letter. It’s not too late, so let’s write it down and send it to someone. Let me help you. You only need to send six."

Iron was of the same age as Luar, and he came much earlier than he had promised, saying that he missed today’s fencing class.

"Somebody’s been carrying a practical joke around. There’s no such thing as a letter of misfortune."

Iron lowered his voice when Luar snorted and refused to deal with him. "No, I thought it might be just a joke, just like you said, until yesterday. But the butler fell down the stairs this morning and sprained his foot."

Luar blinked at Iron’s words. "What does the butler’s fall have to do with the letter?"

"It’s a problem because I gave it to the butler."

Luar’s eyes grew at Iron’s reply.

"You’re uncomfortable hearing that, aren’t you? So, let’s write it down quickly."

Iron brought a letter paper and a pen to his desk, ready to write for himself.

"No. I don’t want to write a letter of misfortune with the emblem of the imperial court. It’s a coincidence that the butler fell. It can’t be because of the letter of misfortune."

As Luar hated it, Iron couldn’t help but bring the letter back and spoke in an unassailable manner. "Yes, it’s a coincidence, isn’t it? I think so, too."

---

"Luar, this time my nanny cut her hand while cutting fruit, and the wagon driver almost got killed by a horse."

The next day, the pale Iron came to visit Luar early in the morning.

Because today was a day for history and math class, Luar, who was pretending to be sick in bed for another day, jumped up. "What? Did you give a letter to your nanny and the wagon driver?"

"Yes. Yesterday in the horse-riding class..." Iron blurred his words with a guilty face.

"Is it really not a coincidence? A letter of misfortune hurt a person! You’re saying they were under a spell?"

Luar stood up suddenly after a moment of agony. "I have to tell my mom. If the letter of misfortune is real, my mom will solve it."

With a very urgent look, Luar ran the corridor of the main castle to get to the office where Julietta was.

Running behind him, Iron grumbled. "Panting... there will be nothing she can do, no matter how great the Empress is. Please go slowly. I’m out of breath."

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The private office of the Empress...

Julietta greeted the cute kids with a big smile s they suddenly burst into her office.

"A man was hurt by a letter of misfortune?" She burst out laughing at what her son had said.

"It can’t be. That’s a superstition and a joke."

"Maybe it’s a letter made by a magician or a priest?"