Early this morning, Livyat arrived at the Civil Affairs Office.
Before Julia could ask in detail what Livyat meant yesterday by saying “I am the Queen of the Elven Kingdom,” Livyat preemptively said she needed to take leave to go to the consulate and take care of Tesvelan.
It seemed Tesvelan had caught a cold and was running a fever.
In the end, Julia forcibly swallowed all the questions she wanted to ask and waved her hand, letting the leave-taking Livyat go home and rest.
Julia decided to find the answer in her own way.
She walked around the entire Civil Affairs Office, digging through file racks and finally pulling out a whole wooden box packed to the brim with documents, accumulated over many years.
Starting from two years ago.
She leafed through the thick stack of documents on the desk, holding up her monocle and carefully examining each page, one by one.
All these documents had one thing in common—the signature of Loren Green at the bottom right corner.
Over these two years, the handwriting on that name had changed—from its initial neat and awkward form, to later becoming free and flowing like a dragon, then finally maturing into a single, continuous stroke.
Even those signed by Livyat on Loren Green’s behalf had shown gradual changes, but all were in Loren Green’s own hand.
There was no doubt about it—from the beginning to yesterday, Loren Green had always been the same person.
The smooth evolution of the handwriting couldn’t lie; there was no one who had substituted midway.
Yes, Tesvelan had said it was due to elven magic, so Loren, who had lived side by side with her for two years, could so easily hide her identity as an elven girl, settle down and study in Landingst, pass the exam, enter the Civil Affairs Office, and work under Julia for two years.
In the end, she had recently been chosen as the new queen—everything so seamless and natural.
But this custom-made, convincing “sweater” still had one loose thread—the most critical one: Had Loren Green really been a girl from the start?
What if not?
Back when she recruited him, the exam results had clearly indicated “male.”
Was he a girl then?
At that time, she was simply interested in Antonroni’s student—that old man’s protégé—so she directly named him to bring him in.
Julia knew she was a workaholic.
Previously, she and Loren Green never shared an office, and outside of work matters, had no daily contact.
Thinking back, although Loren Green always handled work meticulously, in personal matters, he was extremely introverted—didn’t interact with colleagues, and during company dinners or parties, would always quietly sit aside writing or reading.
All year round, he wore the official uniform.
Now that she thought about it, there weren’t even a few distinctive incidents that could help her judge his gender.
That’s right—she remembered in the very beginning, when Loren Green was entirely unfamiliar with the work and got scolded by her.
The next day, the paperwork he handed in was stained with tears, and the dazed Loren only realized it when passing it to her, blushing and apologizing, promising to rewrite it.
Was he a girl then?
And that time, when Loren messed up and was harshly reprimanded by colleagues, his aggrieved face showed a complex, almost ingratiating smile.
He went back and redid the task meticulously, only for it to turn out that it was the colleague who made the mistake.
Was he a girl then?
The first time he received his salary, he sent most of it home to his rural parents, leaving just a small amount for rent, and asked her where to buy cheap bread—was she a girl then?
When did he become her, and she become Livyat?
Julia finished flipping through the entire stack of documents, the scattered pages fluttering to the office floor.
It was as if they were portraits of Loren Green, or perhaps portraits of Livyat Green.
But these days, she really had seen it—the brown eyes gradually lightening to silver, the rarely-trimmed short hair quickly growing into waist-length locks, the facial features changing rapidly but still traceable.
All of this, she had observed with her own eyes.
Would magic failing really progress so smoothly?
In the end, this delicate yet strong child who came to the big city to chase dreams had, in these recent days, become more and more attached, more and more willing to play the role of her little sister.
Was this, too, the effect of magic wearing off?
Impossible.
This wasn’t magic, or rather, it wasn’t magic wearing off.
If there really was magic, then perhaps this was magic taking effect—turning her into Livyat.
“I really am a hopelessly dense blockhead…” Julia sighed.
She knew that her original interest in Loren Green was to nurture talent for the Republic.
But her concern for Livyat now stemmed from the feelings suddenly sprouting for this tenacious girl.
Yet the more her feelings grew, the less she seemed to know about Livyat—how could fate be so unfair to her?
She stared absentmindedly at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, then lowered her head and pulled out the appointment letter from the drawer.
She had to head to the Shipbuilding Department.
She knew she had one last method to verify her suspicions—a detail she’d already noticed during that previous stamping.
But she didn’t want to do it.
If her suspicions proved true, Livyat would certainly be heartbroken.
However, if it was to protect her from further harm… Julia gave a bitter smile.
It wasn’t much of a solution; her own slowness to notice before had led to this, and now karma had come back so quickly.
She could only pray Livyat wouldn’t resent her too much.
Adjusting her mindset, she continued to look at the appointment letter, thinking in terms of work, which made things much easier.
She was now firmly tied to the elves’ chariot—there was no getting off.
From the very start, during the debates over the budget proposal between the Governor and the Ten-Member Council, to finally gaining the strong support of her father and several other legislators, she’d been unable to jump ship.
The curse of family choices affected every decision she made.
Now, for the first time in thirty years, the subordinate she cherished most was likely the newly elected Elven Queen, while her subordinate’s friend was the current Queen’s daughter.
If cooperation with the Elven Kingdom was judged as having been influenced by elven lobbying or insider dealings, harming the interests of the Republic, her father could be executed, and she herself would be exiled from the Republic of Hobrick, never to return.
But what if, by influencing Her Highness the Princess and the newly elected Queen, she could secure the Republic’s interests?
Julia truly didn’t want to use Livyat, but if Livyat was willing, then she was willing too.
If Livyat really was the new queen, that would be the best possible outcome.
Julia felt her old confidence and composure return.
She opened the drawer without hesitation, checked that Loren Green’s seal was still inside, then closed it and locked it with the key.
Tomorrow might be the most important day of her life.