Chapter 49

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 49

Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Take from You

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"Samon."

"Medea."

The son of the Regent Duke and Birna's brother, Samon, stood behind her.

"I was so out of sorts that I forgot to congratulate you on your recovery. I'm glad you're healthy again."

Unlike his gentle tone, the blue eyes fixed on Medea were dark.

'She's changed too much since the fall.'

The dignified voice from earlier, wishing for victory, bore no resemblance to the pathetic fool he knew.

'Medea, you wench. Did you catch on to our scheme and strike first?'

He harbored suspicions toward Medea.

The way she innocently cornered her father and little sister with such precision—it was far too cunning.

"Samon, did I do something wrong?"

At that moment, Medea let her fine eyebrows droop, her voice trembling.

Her clear, transparent eyes brimmed with worry, making her look like a frightened deer.

"I only said what Aunt and Birna told me to. I never imagined everyone would be so upset."

Her white hand grasped Samon's arm and gave it a slight shake.

"Do they think I'm being arrogant for giving Birna the dress Aunt gave me?"

She poured out her grievances to her cousin as if depending on him entirely.

'Right, she's just this timid and perceptive... I was overthinking it.'

If she truly knew of their ambitions, she wouldn't be treating him so unchanged.

Samon inwardly mocked Medea's dullness as he patted her shoulder affectionately.

"No way. You know how much our mother adores you, Dea. She's just trying to rein in that immature Birna."

Today was her day, after all, he added with a smile.

But Medea noticed his eyes weren't smiling at all.

'Samon, you're sly and vicious. You always extract revenge when wronged.'

Once, a lowly servant in the ducal house had accidentally damaged Samon's favorite pair of leather shoes.

Samon had forgiven him kindly to his face, but later the man was dismissed after an "accident" that severed one of his ankles.

His true nature only emerged around those weaker than him. Back then, Medea had dismissed it as coincidence.

But now that she knew what he really was, Medea understood.

'He'll try to pay me back for today. His family was humiliated, after all.'

Yet she wasn't afraid of Samon.

'I've got plenty to settle with you too.'

In her previous life, Samon had risen to prominence after King Peleus was injured in battle and left lame.

The king, chosen by the gods—the noblest being in the realm.

His body had to be perfect, or so the people of the continent believed.

The Baldinians were no exception.

"It must mean the gods don't acknowledge His Majesty!"

Peleus hadn't even had a chance to show his injured leg before fierce public opinion threatened his throne from all sides.

That was when Samon—with his similar bloodline and looks—shot up as a replacement.

Voices even arose calling for the flawed Peleus to be passed over in favor of Samon.

'Your siblings won't be allowed to leech off us any longer.'

"Brother, please explain for me. You know how I feel."

"Of course."

Samon nodded.

"Dea, I'll be going now. It's your day today, so relax and enjoy yourself."

He bowed, pressing a kiss to the back of Medea's hand before departing.

Medea watched his retreating back for a long time, her gaze that of a beast eyeing its prey.

Bursting outside, Birna huffed in fury.

To avoid getting caught by her mother again, she needed to hurry back to the banquet hall.

As she took a step toward the hall, she spotted Medea in the distance—chatting with people and laughing brightly.

"......Why are you smiling?"

Birna muttered blankly.

I'm this miserable, so why is a wretch like you over there laughing like you're having the time of your life?

"In the end, it's all because of Medea."

That wench deliberately handed over the dress so I'd be mocked by everyone.

Otherwise, why would she give away something so precious so readily?

Birna's fists trembled with rage.

Fine then. I won't just sit here. She called her exclusive maid, Shilla.

"Shilla, make sure Medea drinks this."

"Pardon? To Her Highness? Miss, this is still a palace banquet—that's too danger—"

Shilla paled at the sight of the white powder wrapped in mourning cloth.

Slap!

Stars exploded before her eyes.

"Are you my dog, or am I yours? Do what I say. Unless you want to be sold off tomorrow where no rat or bird will find you."

Clutching her burning cheek, Shilla had no choice but to nod.

"Don't worry. It's not poison. I'm not stupid enough to risk my own neck."

"Th-then......"

"It just causes weird visions and hallucinations. I'm only trying to mess with her a bit."

She was such a coward that who knew what panic she'd cause—but it was bound to be quite the spectacle.

Just like when she'd panicked at the tea party and fallen from her horse.

"So just do what I told you. Got it?"

Birna's face was filled with her usual endearing malice.

"Right, the fall...... That's when it started. She's been off since then."

Her cousin seemed to have lost her nerve, so it was time to drill it into that pretty little head of hers once more.

Seeing her leisurely smile, Samon approached and murmured lowly.

"Birna, what mischief are you up to now?"

It had been the same during the fall. Whenever Birna wore that impish expression, some disaster involving Medea would follow.

Of course, dragging his cousin's reputation through the mud was exactly what Samon wanted.

But not today.

"Not today."

Samon scowled.

Did she have any idea how many people were here today?

If something went wrong, they couldn't just sweep it under the rug like before—not with all those eyes watching.

"Don't do anything foolish. Understand?"

"What did I even do?"

Birna lifted her eyebrows innocently. Samon shot her a warning glare before leaving.

"Hmph, too late for that."

Birna stuck her tongue out at his back.

As the banquet reached its peak, a single glass was offered before Medea.

"Your Highness, aren't you thirsty?"

The palace maid smiled sweetly. It was just the berry wine Medea favored.

Medea stared silently at the rippling red liquid before spotting Birna watching her intently from afar.

Even without the overly faint berry aroma, Medea would have sensed something was off with this glass.

'As expected, you never exceed my expectations, Birna.'

Was this nasty "prank" of Birna's really the first of its kind today? The way she lashed out the moment her temper flared felt all too natural.

Medea picked up the glass anyway. She turned smoothly, rejoining the conversation with the VIPs.

The maid wanted to confirm that Medea drank it, but with the glass now in her hands, she had no reason to linger and withdrew.

As Medea continued chatting with the guests, her eyes fell on Interior Minister Count Etienne.

"A moment."

The star of tonight's banquet had arrived.

Medea glanced down at her wine. In that instant, a scheme flashed through her mind.

'Birna's little gift... I can put it to good use.'

It seemed perfect for amplifying the effects of her plan to finish off Etienne tonight.

Interior Minister Count Etienne's eyes widened upon spotting Medea.

"Well, if it isn't Her Highness the Princess."

"Minister Etienne, it's been a while. Have you... grown even larger since last time?"

Surprisingly, the minister burst into a guffaw.

His flushed cheeks quivered, spilling champagne onto his hand.

He was so thoroughly drunk that he didn't even register the princess's jab at his physique.

"Ah, Your Highness, you were impressive today. Speaking so boldly without a hint of nerves before all those people—I'm truly moved. No doubt Saint Esther showered you with shooting stars because she found you so admirable."

Etienne squinted down at the princess.

His attitude was that of an adult condescendingly humoring a child.

"Did it seem that way? Well, they say Saint Esther despised those who abandoned their duty for greed and ran their bellies through with her spear. As you say, since I'm still young and innocent, perhaps she took pity on me."

The princess smiled sweetly in return. Yet her choice of words felt strangely pointed.

"......"

'Is this wench mocking me right now?'

Saint Esther's infamous exploits were well-known across the continent.

Etienne's booze-soaked brain quickly dismissed it as his own oversensitivity.

"But, Minister."

"Yes, Your Highness? Speak."

"By whose permission was this party held? Can a palace event proceed without royal approval?"

The minister's squinting eyes blinked rapidly.