Relapse of an Old Injury and the Taste of Midnight Emergency Calls

Prince Nolan paid no mind to Prince Titus's warnings. If he ever let a Lyndarian princess sway him, he wouldn't be Eastlyn's Ninth Prince. He dared meddle in Lyndaria's affairs—why would he fear a mere princess? None of his actions had ever needed the Lyndarian emperor's permission.

In the darkness, Prince Nolan caught Prince Titus's gaze without fail and said coldly, "Titus, your father forbids many things, but you and I still do them all the same. If you waited for your father's permission, you'd be stuck in that wheelchair for life."

Titus, while you suspect your mother, have you ever considered your father? Back then, your father investigated your leg injury too. If we can still find traces of the truth years later, there's no way he found nothing at the time. Remember, the power he holds is far beyond ours.

If my deduction is correct, your father knew all along that your legs were ruined after the fact. But for the sake of Lyndaria's stability, he chose silence. Likewise, he must have acted afterwards to erase all evidence and witnesses—otherwise, with the skills of those women in the inner palace, it couldn't have been cleaned up so thoroughly.

Titus, by choosing to work with me, you should have realized you now stand against your own royal family. If you regret it, there's still time to turn back." Prince Nolan tossed out these words and left. Whether Titus believed him or not was none of his concern—he was only giving a warning...

Prince Nolan's words weren't baseless, nor was he trying to mislead Titus—they were reasoned deductions. Just like with evidence laid out before him, Titus couldn't bring himself to believe his mother was completely innocent.

People like them might search for evidence, but often don't fully trust it. They know all too well how easily the Lyndarian emperor could erase evidence and frame others.

"Why? Why?" In the darkness, Prince Titus was like a lost child, biting his lip hard as he watched Prince Nolan's departing figure.

Why did he have to tear open his wounds—why did he keep reminding him that when his legs were crippled, both his mother and father abandoned him?

Pain... a soul-devouring pain swept through his body. His legs trembled, the agony of bones being snapped alive still lingering in his mind—wave after wave of pain so intense Titus could barely breathe.