Chapter 116

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 116

Chapter Title: Humiliated Exile

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“Such a stark double standard. Disgusting, utterly revolting.”

The Queen Dowager's words had barely ended when the Baldinans stormed out en masse.

It was a blatant declaration that there was no room for negotiation.

Someone spat on the ground with a loud ptooey. Jason's face flushed red at the undisguised insult.

This wouldn't do. Far from winning over the Baldinans, he'd only earned their enmity—the very last thing he wanted.

With even the Jared delegation turning their backs on him, wasn't this Baldina his one remaining hope?

“Jason oppa, hurry back to Kazen. I hope there'll be no more disgrace.”

“Angelique, do you think I don't know what you've done?”

Unable to hold back, Jason glared at her. The Fourth Imperial Princess let out a scornful snort.

“You think I don't know? That you deliberately tried to seize my weaknesses?”

“……”

“Jason, just live your life as it was. Don't chase pipe dreams. Actually, you might not even manage that anymore. I have no plans to let you dream in peace.”

Her words dripped with venom, yet the Fourth Imperial Princess brimmed with smug triumph.

At the same time, she couldn't help thinking how right Medea had been to make Jason the scapegoat.

How humiliating to be caught plotting to assassinate Baldina's princess and chased out like vermin. It would neatly cover up her own defeat in that duel over the relief supplies.

The Fourth Imperial Princess flicked her eyes toward Medea.

Their gazes met, but pride stung, she quickly whipped her head away with a huff.

“Grand Duke, prepare to depart.”

The royal knights closed in. They made no effort to conceal their aggressive, menacing aura.

“Let go. I'll walk out on my own two feet.”

Jason shook off their grip. His handsome features twisted into a savage snarl.

As the sun dipped low in the evening sky, the royal knights' horses halted at the edge of Baldina's royal castle.

“Our escort ends here. Farewell, Grand Duke Castulo. May our paths never cross again.”

The words were courteous on the surface, yet laced with deep resentment—the bare minimum decorum they could muster.

Clop clop. The hooves rang out without a backward glance, as if they couldn't bear to linger another moment, carving a deep gash into Jason's pride.

His eyes reddened as he fought back the surging fury. His already crimson gaze, now laced with killing intent and rage, looked utterly feral.

“Damn it—! Goddamn it all!”

Unable to contain himself, he hammered his fists against the carriage door.

This wasn't his first taste of humiliation.

When he'd yielded the throne to his uncle, when he'd feigned dullness to slip their guard under that uncle's watchful eye—Jason had always bitten the inside of his cheek, swallowing the bile of shame.

But he'd never dreamed he'd sink to such depths even in this remote little kingdom of Baldina.

“Y-Your Highness, please, compose yourself.”

His knuckles split open against the iron, but he couldn't stop.

“I can't leave like this.”

He muttered through bloodshot eyes.

“I didn't drag myself here just to slink back empty-handed.”

Baldina was meant to be his shining new start. Not another stain in a litany of degradations.

“Turn the carriage around and send word to Count Lazu.”

“Pardon?”

The adjutant blinked in shock, then flinched under Jason's ferocious stare.

“Tell him we're heading to the Claudio Ducal House.”

Not long ago, Count Lazu had relayed whispers that the ducal house was secretly plotting a coup, right under their noses.

“I'll lend my hand to their rebellion personally.”

If this ungrateful fool of a country rejected him so callously, Jason saw no reason to hold back.

Baldina.

Atop a canyon veiled by dense woods and towering trees, a group of mounted men stood watch.

“That speck in the distance must be Baldina's royal castle.”

A middle-aged man on horseback murmured.

His red hair burned with ambition—he was Horols, the rebel leader.

“The castle rats will lose their minds when they spot us.”

He cackled.

“Spot on, Leader. Every word out of your mouth is gold.”

His underlings chimed in with sycophantic agreement.

Horols peered down at the plain below, lost in visions of glory.

The black specks blanketing the fields were all his rebels.

Mostly simple folk armed with farm tools and scraps, but mercenaries were sprinkled throughout the clusters to whip them into shape.

“Plenty of manpower to storm the castle and string up that bloodsucking princess for all to see. That witch'll learn the hard way just how terrifying the people's fury can be.”

The leader boasted with puffed-up pride.

“Right, Theo?”

Horols turned to the brown-haired youth riding beside him.

Striking features, a build edging toward manhood, rugged lines that shone with masculine appeal—he was a rare beauty among boys.

“Theo?”

“……”

Only then did the youth turn.

“What had you so deep in thought you missed me calling?”

“Ah… yes. The luxury-soaked degenerates will come tumbling out in a frenzy.”

Horols roared with laughter and clapped Theo on the shoulder.

“Already picturing our arrival at the castle? Makes sense—you're castle-born, aren't you? Must stir up old feelings.”

“……”

“When your little sister sees her big brother hailed as the hero who freed the people from their misery, she'll burst with pride. Hahaha!”

Horols patted himself on the back for unearthing this gem.

In this grand operation bankrolled by the Regent Duke, Theo was the steal of the century.

Horols had scooped him up by chance—a guttersnipe on death's door.

With a retired soldier for a father, the kid seethed with royal hatred. A bit of coaxing about toppling the corrupt court and saving the common folk, and he was hooked.

Brimming with zeal to crush the throne, he'd thrown himself into the fray without a single coin changing hands.

Horols's inner circle? Costly elite mercenaries, every one.

Unlike those pay-hounds, Theo needed just a nudge at the right itch and off he went—like a custom wind-up soldier.

“We bunk down here tonight. Visions of that place burning soon? Makes the booze slide down smooth!”

Horols bellowed with laughter. His booming guffaws rolled across the heavens.

In the plain nestled between deepening twilight canyons.

Theo lit a candle. The tent held only him.

The rest were deep in their cups, the leader by the bonfire, flushed and ranting hot-blooded about royal atrocities to the troops.

Slipping through the raucous din, Theo made it into the leader's tent undetected.

“Threatening my family wasn't enough—now this deceit too…”

His teeth ground at the sly machinations of Baldina's royals.

“You're being played for a fool. Eyes wide open, now. Or they'll have your nose off before you blink.”

Not long back, a freckled youth in a straw hat had tracked him down.

Those glossy, razor-sharp eyes—he'd tapped Theo's nose on his way out.

Snapping from the daze, Theo found a strange box thrust into his hand.

A token shared with his sister. And a lock of her hair.

Saya… My little sister really became that witch's maid?

Theo hadn't bought it at first. He'd checked discreetly through a castle contact.

“The princess picked up a slum girl as a maid recently. Name's Saya—gained the Queen Dowager's favor too, pretty well-known now.”

I should've brought Saya with me.

Too late for regrets now.

Theo crushed the letter in his fist.

Baldina's princess had sent it via the freckled killer—a threat, not a letter.

She knew his role as a rebel head. Knew Saya was his sole kin.

That lock of hair? Her way of dangling his sister's life over his head.

…You're the one deceived, Theo. That faith and justice you cling to? Never existed.

The princess claimed the leader answered to the Regent Duke. That this rebellion was their grand scheme to destabilize the realm for personal gain.

“No way.”

The denial hissed through Theo's clenched teeth.

“Theo, let's team up and fix this rotten world. Let the poor stand proud, live as good as the fat cats for once!”

He'd followed that raw, earnest fire all the way here—only to learn it was Regent Duke money fueling it?

“The princess is sowing discord. Using Saya to pry me from the leader.”

Theo knew his sway all too well.

The rebellion had ballooned this far on his back alone.

Most were peasants with pitchforks. They'd flocked to him, drunk on his words, swearing loyalty.

He'd shared his vet dad's hard-won lessons, honing their edge.

No major bloodbaths sieging castles so far? All him.

“Damn it all…”

He muttered.

No other reason for coming here. Just confirm the truth. Rub it in that cruel princess's face.

Quiet rustling filled the tent as he rummaged.

“…Nothing like that exists. Just her ploy to divide us…”

Then he froze.

Theo slowly lifted his hand. A small parchment, sealed with the Claudio Ducal House crest.

When we face you at the walls, we'll send the princess out. Kidnap her on sight, parade her before the castle folk. Execute the witch who fled the kingdom.

The Regent Duke's directive. And a chest brimming with gold bars.

Thud. He sank to his knees.