----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 47 Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Steal from You ----------------------------------------------------------------- Standing next to Birna, who was adorned in all her glittering splendor, the black satin dress Medea wore s...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Steal from You
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Standing next to Birna, who was adorned in all her glittering splendor, the black satin dress Medea wore seemed rather modest by comparison.
On the contrary, it made her translucent skin, red lips, and the white pearls dangling from her ears stand out all the more.
Her unerring gait, upright posture, serene gaze, and composed voice—all of it exuded an air of noble elegance from Medea.
Paradoxically, her lack of excessive adornment seemed to elevate her dignity as a princess even further.
"Birna wanted this dress so badly. It rightfully belongs to someone who suits it even better."
She unfurled her fan and lowered her eyes just a touch.
"The Claudio Ducal House is always showering me with gifts far beyond my deserving. Don't I owe it to them to return the favor from time to time?"
A hint of feigned distress colored her calm voice.
'Me? When did I ever!'
To the ears of those around her, it sounded as if Birna had forgotten her station and stubbornly insisted on wearing the princess's dress.
Duchess Catherine Claudio quickly stepped forward.
"That foolish girl of mine has dared to trouble Your Highness. As her mother, I apologize profusely. But I sent other garments along for Your Highness as well—why choose to wear this black dress?"
It was an accusation that Medea had deliberately dressed her cousin in extravagance while opting for something simple herself to bask in the crowd's praise.
"I received Aunt's kind gesture with gratitude, of course. But these are times of war."
Medea continued smoothly, without a trace of fluster.
"Everyone knows His Majesty is still on the battlefield and our people are starving. How could I possibly wear something so lavish?"
At that moment, Marchioness Aspasia—who had been observing the exchange from a step away with keen interest—chimed in.
As the queen of Baldina's high society, she was fierce rivals with Medea's aunt, Catherine.
"But Your Highness is His Majesty's only sibling. No one would dare criticize whatever you wear or wherever you go."
"Exactly. After all, I am Baldina's one and only princess."
Medea lifted her chin. The gesture carried an arrogance that bordered on haughtiness.
"So whether I drape myself in silk or cheap rags, that truth remains unchanged. What do I have to fear?"
Marchioness Aspasia nodded.
"Your Highness is right. A princess needs no further proof."
Her words carried a pointed undertone aimed at someone specific.
Medea then added softly, as if defending a wayward child.
"That said, it's hardly Birna's fault. A girl in the bloom of youth naturally wants to dress vibrantly—how could that be a flaw?"
Yet the age gap between the princess and Birna was a mere year.
Medea's words only served to underscore Birna's immaturity.
People thought that even a neglected young princess couldn't hide her royal blood—responsibility ran deeper in her veins, despite everything.
A few even shook their heads pityingly at Birna.
'How dare she, how dare she!'
Birna bit her lip.
She felt like a monkey on display in a zoo. Humiliating.
'Foolish girl. Can't even handle a simple task.'
The Regent Duke frowned at his daughter, her face flushed red.
'It's fine. This banquet itself will be the noose around Medea's neck.'
He stepped forward before her, ready to wipe away his daughter's disgrace and seize control of the conversation once more.
"How admirable, Medea."
The moment her name was called, a flicker of murderous intent flashed in her emerald eyes—but it vanished in an instant.
Medea lifted her head to meet his gaze.
"It's been a while, Uncle Claudio."
It was their first face-to-face since her regression.
"I'm truly relieved you've recovered. Otherwise, Baldina might have lost such a thoughtful princess."
His straightforward demeanor and warm greeting painted him once more as an irreproachable paragon of virtue.
But Medea knew his true nature.
How had she ever missed those wolfish eyes?
"Medea. Stay away from Uncle. They..."
"Why? Do you hate me that much, brother? Why try to take away the only people left by my side?"
In her past life, Peleus had sensed his ambitions early and tried to warn her.
But fearing it would hurt her, he never spoke the full truth.
'After I died, you became Baldina's king, didn't you, Claudio?'
You, who fled to the empire without lifting a finger while Peleus was torn apart by magic beasts defending the realm?
Medea gripped her fan tightly. It took all her restraint not to drive its rigid handle straight into his heart right then.
But if she killed him now, he'd forever be the poor, innocent man murdered by his beloved niece.
'I won't let filth like you have such a shining reputation.'
"I appreciate your kind thoughts."
Swallowing her killing intent, Medea flashed a bright smile.
"Now then."
As if on cue, the Regent Duke ascended the dais.
Ching—ching—ching—
The clear ring of a silver spoon against a crystal glass echoed through the hall.
"As you all know, tonight's banquet celebrates Medea, Baldina's sole princess."
Surveying the crowd like the banquet's true host, he cut an imposing figure.
"In His Majesty's stead, she has devoted herself heart and soul to leading the kingdom. She toiled solely for Baldina's sake, even at the cost of her own health."
The nobles exchanged puzzled glances.
Wasn't her fall from the horse just some idle picnic accident?
"This humble affair may pale beside Her Highness's nobility, but please graciously accept our heartfelt intentions."
He spoke as if the princess had begged the Claudio Ducal House for an unnecessary banquet, then fervently praised her all the same.
"Thus, let us never forget that Her Highness's very existence is Baldina's glory."
A princess—not even the king—being bowed to like this?
The Regent Duke's overreach pricked at the nobles' pride.
Even the Queen Dowager's expression tightened slightly.
Building the princess's prestige was fine, but too much would spell trouble when the king returned.
Two suns could not share the same sky.
"Tonight, let us all pray for Her Highness's safety and peace! To Princess Medea!"
His earnest praise for his niece was, in truth, bait tossed to the wolves to tear her apart.
The banquet's atmosphere chilled.
The attendees bristled at the mindless adulation of the princess.
The royalist nobles who backed Peleus flushed with anger.
What had this puppet princess—recklessly stamping seals under the Regent Duke's thumb—done for the realm? She'd been nothing but a headache!
Seeing even his mother, the Queen Dowager, discomforted, Duke Claudio was immensely pleased.
He eyed the empty royal throne as if swallowing it whole.
'Just a little longer, and it will all be mine. That seat. The king's crown.'
Tonight seemed poised to unfold exactly as they planned.
Then, the hem of a black dress rippled neatly.
"I'm deeply moved by the Claudio Ducal House's affection for me. And I know Uncle's heart well."
Medea raised her arm, pointing toward the window.
She had no intention of letting the banquet follow the Regent Duke's script.
"In truth, tonight is the night when the eternal star of victory rises—Saint Esther's eve."
Eyes followed her fingertip to the deep night sky beyond the windows.
Dong, dong. In the distance, the great bell tolled the hour.
"Surely we didn't hold such a grand banquet just to wish Saint Esther's luck upon His Majesty on the battlefield and Baldina's brave soldiers."
Saint Esther.
The mightiest and most valiant attack priestess in temple history, enshrined in the holy kingdom's myths.
Coincidentally, at that very moment, a streak of white light appeared far off.
"Just now—between those ridges—!"
As murmurs rose from those who caught the fleeting sight and those who missed it...
"Ah, there—look!"
Multiple white streaks shot up in unison.
The beams, racing endlessly toward the heavens, suddenly burst outward like explosions.
The points of light stretched into lines, connecting with one another to form a shape.
"And that shape looks just like..."
"...Saint Esther! It's Saint Esther's spear!"
Someone who recognized it cried out.
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