----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 26 Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Steal from You ----------------------------------------------------------------- ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The Queen Dowager had tightly sealed the lips of everyone present that day. Thus, the tale of that...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Steal from You
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The Queen Dowager had tightly sealed the lips of everyone present that day.
Thus, the tale of that day—which could be called a disgrace to the royal family—did not spread.
However, when the princess knelt in prayer before the royal chapel for hours on end, people could guess that something major had occurred.
Sturdy maids surrounded the princess on all sides.
They watched with sharp eyes to ensure no one approached her or offered her water or snacks.
And once it became known that they were the Queen Dowager's maids, people thought:
"Ah, the princess is getting punished again."
To mete out punishment so publicly—she must have truly fallen far out of favor.
How much did the Queen Dowager despise her eldest granddaughter?
"It's already been half a day, hasn't it?"
"The Queen Dowager said to kneel until the goddess issues a revelation."
"A revelation? Easier to wait for lightning from a clear sky."
"She's just going to make her kneel until her own mood improves."
Near the royal chapel, there were plenty of onlookers come to see Medea.
A princess of the realm enduring punishment before everyone's eyes.
Medea knew that even the shame and humiliation felt by a young girl who hadn't yet made her debut was all part of the Queen Dowager's calculations.
'I can't yield now.'
If she bent now, the Queen Dowager would soon forget all about her.
She'd fall for the Claudio Ducal House's sweet words and end up aiding them without realizing it.
'This incident will drive a wedge between those two.'
Making the Queen Dowager doubt the loyalty of her second son, whom she trusted above all others.
That was the final payoff of Medea's scheme this time.
The sun set. Night fell.
It was autumn, with its harsh day-night temperature swings, and a biting cold wind whipped through.
Midnight came and went. The spectators had all dispersed long ago.
Medea wore only a single thin muslin dress.
The flimsy fabric offered no protection from the chill.
"The weather's far too cold. You came out without even proper attire. Please, at least let her wrap this around herself."
Neril pleaded, holding out a blanket, but the Queen Dowager's maids shook their heads.
"The Queen Dowager hasn't permitted it. She said to tell Her Highness that if she prays to the goddess for merciful forgiveness, she'll consider the punishment never happened."
"This is too much—"
"Neril."
Medea stopped Neril as she started to protest.
Her bloodless, pale face held eyes that burned with clarity.
"Don't turn my saving you into a waste."
"Your Highness..."
"Go back. Don't come unless I call for you."
Neril had already once offended the Queen Dowager by shielding her.
She wouldn't tolerate a second offense, not even for the sake of saving face—so it was better to keep her entirely out of sight.
"Do as I say. If you trust me."
At those resolute words, Neril bit her lip and withdrew.
'This must be part of Her Highness's design too. Just like how she turned the head maid's and Mariyu's plot to her advantage.'
She struggled to tear herself away.
The young princess, sitting alone before the vast chapel, looked so small and lonely.
Moonlight fell upon Medea's pallid face as she prayed toward the statue.
'If the merciful goddess truly exists...'
Neril prayed fervently.
'Please look upon our princess with compassion.'
Only after a long while did Neril finally depart.
As the night deepened, even the watching maids began to nod off.
Only Medea gazed up at the goddess with clear, unwavering eyes.
Unlike Neril, her green eyes held not a shred of resentment or grudge.
The gods had granted her a chance at vengeance against her enemies—what more could she ask for?
Everything was unfolding precisely as she had arranged.
How much time passed like that?
Exhausted by the piercing cold and fatigue, Medea briefly closed her eyes.
In that instant, light burst from the fingertips of the goddess statue before her, enfolding her like wings.
Blazing sunlight poured down mercilessly upon the chapel.
Medea remained in place, her body battered by the stinging rays.
Her deathly pale complexion and cracked, parched lips—it was enough to stir pity in anyone.
"Ha, still so stubborn?"
The Queen Dowager snorted.
She knew full well the punishment she'd imposed was excessive. That was why she'd left an opening.
"No one is to give this child even a sip of water until she realizes her wrongdoing. Understood?"
In other words, if Medea came to her first and begged forgiveness, she'd relent.
So after a day, if she came weeping and pleading, the Queen Dowager had planned to feign reluctance and let it go.
"It's the third day already, Your Highness..."
"I know it's the third day!"
She hadn't expected her to hold out this long.
Rumors had spread far and wide that the Queen Dowager had harshly punished the princess.
Even among the palace staff, whispers circulated about what grave sin the princess could have committed to merit standing there for so long.
"That hellion's trying to pull her wild stunts on me too. Thinks she can wear this old woman down."
The Queen Dowager said, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Pinatelli, ensure no one approaches that wretched girl. Even if she hasn't realized her error yet, she'll know it by the time I enter my coffin!"
"Your Highness..."
The Queen Dowager snapped at the look in Marchioness Pinatelli's eyes.
"Why are you acting like this too? Don't disappoint me."
"...Yes."
Marchioness Pinatelli bowed her head, concealing her pity.
Cezare returned to the palace.
"The room's changed."
It was a different location from before.
With the initial probing conversation concluded, the agreement came swiftly.
Facade secured permission to remain on Baldina's soil—in exchange for money.
The astronomical sum was more than enough to douse the kingdom's pressing fires, so Prime Minister Sise ultimately consented.
The rear-line support he'd hoped for was denied.
But his request to publicly display Facade until the imperial delegation departed was granted.
It was a more successful outcome than Sise had anticipated.
As an arms dealer who operated in the shadows, Facade was notorious for never showing his face.
'Even just the 'performance' of dealings between us and Facade will put the empire on edge. They won't rampage as they please.'
"Do it that way."
The negotiations were nearly complete.
Something caught Cezare's eye.
Through the window, he glimpsed the edge of the white palace—and not far off, the chapel.
It was a vantage point with a clear view of the princess kneeling before the statue.
He could guess why today's meeting location had changed.
"Sise."
Ignoring Garo's nagging about their exorbitant fees, Cezare abruptly asked.
"Worried about the princess?"
"Ha. Ridiculous."
He cut himself off, as if there were no need to elaborate.
Yet the old Sise wouldn't have hesitated to snap back immediately.
The princess... and Sise?
Cezare's eyes narrowed for a split second before returning to normal.
"Rumors are all over the castle anyway. Bro, it's the third day already, right?"
Garo clapped his hands.
"I thought only the Kazen imperial family was heartless, but Baldina's no slouch. The Queen Dowager must really hate her own granddaughter."
With the dull negotiations over and a juicy topic at hand, he was thrilled. His swarthy face gleamed.
"Still, the princess has some spine. I figured she wouldn't last this long."
Sise scowled at Garo's words.
He couldn't fathom why the princess would ignore the obvious escape route the Queen Dowager had provided.
"Spine? It's sheer stupidity. Stubbornness will only earn her more hatred."
Then came a soft chuckle.
"Boss, why the laugh?"
"Who knows. She might be aiming for exactly that."
Cezare had weathered countless schemes and traps in the imperial court. He knew well how to turn the tide by manipulating emotions.
Whenever the emperor sought to tighten his leash, Cezare stoked his father's ire instead.
Excessive hatred bred equally deep forgiveness.
That young princess who had crushed the head maid's ambitious plot seemed to be exploiting the very same rift.
Sise arched a brow, as if to say what do you mean? Cezare merely shrugged and turned away.
Through the carriage window, the princess—still seated before the chapel—came into view.
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