Chapter 15: Moonlit Rooftop Chase

His little finger, long since healed, throbbed dully. Again, he felt that man’s touch lingering at the corner of his lips.

‘Why won’t it disappear?’

“…Yonana.”

The emperor suddenly grabbed Fria’s hand, which had been resting near his mouth. Gasping harshly, he clamped down on Fria’s wrist with surprising strength.

“Your Majesty-”

The words barely left Fria’s lips before the emperor lost consciousness again, his head falling limp.

Startled, Fria steadied his breathing and muttered under his breath.

“Yonana?”

****

His fever was high. The heat beneath Fria’s palm was clearly worse than before, when he had first laid the damp cloth on his forehead.

“I knew it would get worse…”

What now? There was no way to call the chamberlain. He pounded on the hidden wall, shouted at the top of his lungs, nothing. They must have thought the emperor’s condition wasn’t dangerous, otherwise they wouldn’t have left him like this.

Then why was his temperature rising so suddenly? Was it because he saw Fria when he woke? Did anger spark the fever?

A wet cloth wouldn’t be enough. He needed medicine, quickly.

‘On bright moonlit nights, it shines especially clearly. It looks as though it might flutter away at any moment. Perhaps that’s why its seeds sometimes take root in high places like castle walls or towers.’

Mariposa!

The name of the herb surfaced in his mind, and Fria’s expression lit up. Mariposa, common across the duchy’s hills. Its petals resembled butterfly wings, hence the name.

It was known for its strong fever-reducing effects; families with children prone to fevers always kept some on hand.

The leaves and stems could be boiled or chewed raw. When he had been sick, Gir had always brewed it for him. The memory of running away to avoid its bitter taste came back just as vividly.

The castle walls would be guarded, but the tower roofs likely weren’t. He had already noticed the positions of the spires and bell tower outside the main palace. If he could reach the roof, finding mariposa would only be a matter of time.

He leaned out the open window. Cool air rushed against him. A stone ledge jutted beside the frame, solid enough. If he stepped on it and reached up, climbing onto the roof should be easy. Back in Alphenia, he’d climbed trees far taller than this.

Carefully, he stepped out. Dust gathered over years marked the stone beneath his feet. Gripping the shoulder of a weathered bronze statue, he looked down.

Darkness swallowed everything. In daylight, the grand gardens, the noble villas, even the distant concubine quarters would have been a magnificent sight.

Somewhere over there… he estimated the location of his own residence before moving again.

A hawk returning from its night hunt beat its wings overhead. And there, far off, yellow mariposa flowers fluttered like tiny wings.

****

Byron had definitely heard something.

He slid a quill between the pages of his book and stood. There was movement above him, on the roof. Too heavy for a rat or cat.

‘An assassin?’

A chill ran down his spine. Of all times, it had to be now, when his usually flawless cousin was bedridden for his yearly bout of illness.

Byron had been staying nearby for days, in a chamber once used by the commander of the imperial guard, with a hidden passage leading straight to the emperor’s room.

He had to assess the situation first. Calling the guards too soon might alert a hidden accomplice. He needed to stop the intruder before they reached the emperor.

Sword in hand, Byron slipped behind a tapestry and disappeared.

****

“Well done. Truly impressive.”

Fria praised the mariposa blooming stubbornly between cracks in the roof. They grew in clusters along the tower’s spiral path.

“Sorry. I need you.”

He gently picked three stems, careful not to damage the roots. That should be enough. The taste was awful whether boiled or eaten raw—but it worked.

Maybe two more, just in case.

He stood, ready to head back…

Darkness. The moon slipped behind clouds, dimming his vision. Moss clung to parts of the stone, forcing him to tread carefully.

Then, thud.

He collided with something solid. Warm. Human.

“I’m sorry-”

The apology slipped out before he could think. That only made it stranger. He was on the palace roof. No one should be here.

“Who-”

Before he could react, his arm was twisted behind him. Cold steel pressed under his chin.

“Who are you? State your affiliation.”

“…”

“I’ll ask again. Your affiliation.”

Fria hesitated. Judith’s warning echoed in his head.

‘Which concubine walks around bare-faced outside? What if a man sees you?’

Well, this was far beyond being “seen.”

He yanked his hood lower to hide his face, but the grip on him tightened.

“If you don’t answer, I’ll hand you over to the guards. What are you doing here at this hour? Were you trying to harm His Majesty?”

Fria shook his head vigorously, only to nick his skin against the blade.

“Ah-!”

Byron frowned. This was ridiculous. He had expected an assassin, but the figure was too lightly dressed, too… carefree. He’d even seen him chatting with flowers.

‘Not an assassin. More like an idiot.’

Still, why was he on the palace roof?

“I am Byron, acting on behalf of Duke Perma. If you cooperate, I may show leniency.”

The moment Byron lowered his blade, Fria twisted and bit his wrist.

“-!”

Startled, Byron released him. Fria bolted.

“You’re dead if I catch you.”

Byron gave chase.

It didn’t take long. Fria slipped and fell, only to be caught again moments later.

“What’s that in your hand? Why did you pick it? Poison?”

“It’s not!”

“Tell the truth!”

“Listen, Byron-!”

Fria quickly ducked his head again, nearly exposing his face.

Suspicious.

The way he hid his face… Byron studied him. Slender build. Young, late teens at most. Probably some noble brat sent here through connections.

“You know who I am, don’t you?”

‘You literally just said your name.’

Fria fumed internally. There was no way he could reveal himself now.

“Get up. You shouldn’t be here.”

Byron extended a hand.

Fria slapped it away and stood, only to slip again. Byron caught him around the waist.

“No sense of balance. Which department are you from?”

“Let go-”

“Don’t you feel sorry for your parents? Sending you here-”

“Let go first-”

“This isn’t your playground. This is the emperor’s palace-”

“Let go! Your foot-”

“If the guards had seen you, you’d already be in the torture chamber-”

“Will you listen?! Your foot!”

There’s bird droppings.

Too late.

Byron stepped back, straight onto it.

Squish.

In the next instant, he lost his footing entirely, and both men went down together.

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