Chapter 37

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 37

Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Take from You

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Medea suddenly recalled the tale that Sise's mother had once been a stunning beauty who set high society ablaze.

He might look weary, ill-tempered, and overly sensitive, but she had to admit Sise was handsome.

And he was one of the few loyal retainers who had stayed true to Peleus until the very end.

Medea knew Sise doubted her now.

He couldn't help it, not knowing what she had endured in her past life.

At any rate, their goals aligned.

To properly restore Baldina, the kingdom Peleus ruled.

So this tedious effort to ease his worries and set his mind at rest was well worth it.

"The Baldina I want to protect is Peleus's alone."

Medea spoke calmly. It didn't matter if her sincerity reached him.

She had a duty to set this country right and return it to Peleus.

It was the atonement and penance she must fulfill, even if it took her entire life.

A profound regret shadowed her delicate features, deep beyond belief.

"Minister, you don't have to trust me. You'll see soon enough."

Her green eyes, filled with resolve, gleamed with an icy light. Sise swallowed his surprise and sipped his tea.

"……."

No words passed between them until he had drained his cup completely.

"I understand Your Highness's intent. But Interior Minister Etienne is a hereditary noble of three generations' standing, overseeing the inner palace affairs. He's no easy mark like Lady Quizin, to fall into Your Highness's trap."

"……."

"The Regent Duke is his staunch ally, to boot. If Etienne falls, the Regent Duke loses all control over the inner palace. He won't let that happen."

That was why even Sise had struggled against the Regent Duke all this time.

One was daunting enough, but with Etienne joining in, he had to fend off attacks from every direction.

The princess's expression didn't change despite Sise's remonstrations.

"What if we could drive a wedge between them? Would you still say the same?"

Split the Regent Duke and Count Etienne? Sise shook his head briefly.

"Do you think I haven't tried sowing discord? Their bond is ironclad. It's no alliance that crumbles in a day."

In the current situation, they could scarcely break it—holding their own forces together without further disintegration was the best they could hope for.

"Sometimes a single drop of water can part rivers and seas. So don't worry, Minister, and think about how we can topple the minister once he's split from my uncle."

The opportunity would come soon, the princess added.

"I thought Your Highness didn't wish for the Claudio Ducal House's downfall."

"As long as they don't covet our Baldina, I couldn't care less."

Her tone carried a pointed weight.

This horse-riding incident must have shifted her outlook considerably.

Where had that timid, frail princess gone? No trace of her former self remained.

"We must weed out anyone harboring disloyal thoughts toward this kingdom. Even if my uncle is among them."

Medea lifted the corner of her mouth.

"As tragic as that would be."

There was no hint in her words of wanting to save her uncle.

"Next time, you should come here. It won't do for them to know we're meeting."

Medea proffered a parchment with a small map sketched on it.

Sise blinked dumbly, caught off guard.

Was the princess truly set on ousting Claudio? Could he trust her?

"My lord, I've brought hot water."

"Come in."

As Sise removed his monocle and composed his startled thoughts, the maid entered.

It was the same one who had brought the tea earlier.

She moved with quiet grace, carefully setting the tea tray on the table.

Hot water poured over the leaves with a gentle gurgle, releasing a rich, lingering aroma.

Her movements were fluid and natural.

Sise recalled how Medea hadn't even touched her tea earlier.

"Shall I bring different tea?"

This was roasted to his taste—plain and straightforward, just how he liked it. It wouldn't suit a young princess's palate.

He wouldn't have cared about her preferences before, but now it nagged at him.

"No, it's fine. The scent is intriguing. I don't think I've smelled anything like it."

"It's herbal tea my maid makes herself. She roasts the leaves by hand, so I drink it out of appreciation for her effort."

"Were you always so sentimental, Minister?"

"Or do you just want to insult me?"

Medea let out a soft chuckle. The light smile spreading over her refined lips surprised Sise with its carefree air.

Had the princess ever smiled so vibrantly?

"I'd like to keep drinking this tea."

"I'll have some set aside for you."

"My maids are too inexperienced to brew it this well, so I'll borrow yours for a bit."

The princess nodded toward the maid holding the teapot at her side, prompting Sise's response.

"Another girl brews better, actually. To spare you the trouble, why not take her instead?"

"No, I want this one."

The princess stubbornly insisted on the maid beside her, her face impassive.

Sise eyed her steadily, gauging her intentions, then spoke.

"She's dear to me."

"And? It's just one cup of tea, Minister."

Her retort dismissed any overreaction.

As expected, this arrogant princess's temperament clashed with his. Sise rubbed his temple.

"……Will you return her intact?"

Medea tilted up her chin.

Her haughty gaze seemed to ask if he thought she'd sully her dignity over a mere maid.

Only then did Sise nod.

"Very well, then."

A few days later, the prime minister's maid visited the Princess Palace with tea.

"Lift your head."

The atmosphere was as peaceful as ever.

Sweet floral scents wafted through the air, over soft carpets in pastel hues. A small round table held a full tea set ready for brewing.

Medea's pale, slender hand scooped up a handful of leaves. A modest bunch settled into the strainer.

"Is this enough? Too much?"

"……."

At the same time, Mariyu standing beside her poured hot water over the leaves Medea had added.

Steam rose in gentle wisps.

The fragrant tea scent filled the room—rather intensely, in fact.

"How long do I wait?"

"……."

The maid gave no reply.

With a soft trickle, slender fingers tilted the pot at an angle.

Golden tea poured purely into the exquisite cup.

Sise's maid, serving the tea, glanced at the liquid. Its deep hue, opaque enough to obscure the cup's bottom, carried an ominous tinge.

"I-It's ready."

"Is it?"

When the maid offered the cup, Medea shook her head.

"Drink it first."

"Pardon? How could I presume to drink Your Highness's—"

"Drink."

The princess was firm.

"For the record, this is an order, not a suggestion."

"……."

"Drink it."

The maid from Sise's household couldn't hide her displeasure at the princess's overbearing tone, leaving no room for refusal.

"I don't know why Your Highness torments me so. I've served Prime Minister Sise faithfully for years. If he knew you were treating me this way—"

"I can't fathom why everyone feels the need to flaunt their loyalty in front of me."

Medea cut her off, lifting her gaze with evident boredom.

Then she stared down at Sise's maid with a blank expression. Suddenly, her hand knocked over the canister of tea leaves.

Leaves spilled out, filling the space with their fresh aroma.

'Hallus.'

For a startled moment, memories from her past life overlaid the maid's flustered face.

It was near the end of the war between Peleus and the nomads.

Baldina's young prime minister, Sise, had contracted rabies.

At a critical juncture, with victory or defeat hanging on the final battle.

He secluded himself in a tower, desperately hiding his illness while managing state affairs.

Then one day.

"Your Highness, the prime minister—he—!"

Sise succumbed to the rabies and took his own life.

He was still in his prime.

His death shook the kingdom to its core.

Even Peleus's foundation wavered. Sise had been one of the king's scant few loyalists.

Even Medea, oblivious to it all, had felt his absence keenly.

'Sise was too young for rabies. He had no other illnesses either.'

Rabies typically afflicted seasoned mages or swordsmen after long years of training.

She had puzzled over how a vigorous young man like Sise could have contracted it.

'There was a reason.'