Chapter 50

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 50

Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Take from You

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Soon enough, he let out a hearty laugh as if he understood.

"Someone must have fed Your Highness some useless nonsense. Prime Minister Sise, perhaps? You know how that young pup is more stuffy than an eighty-year-old codger. He's desperate to find any pretext between Your Highness and us—"

"Minister."

Medea raised her hand calmly.

As if there was no need to hear any more pointless words, she cut him off decisively.

"I asked the question."

"……."

The minister's face, which had been full of amusement, gradually lost its smile.

The alcohol had long worn off from this impertinent young princess who dared interrupt him.

"Your Highness, I'll handle all the difficult and complicated matters. You don't need to worry about a thing."

Through his drooping eyes, a sinister gleam shone like that of a venomous toad.

"Just enjoy your days as you always have. Read books with your maids, paint pictures, attend soirées like this at night. That's all."

"Is that your answer?"

Medea smirked faintly.

He pretended to show concern, but it was nothing but insolent disregard for the princess.

"Yes. You have absolutely no need to worry. Everything is proceeding in due order, by the book."

"In that case, bring me the budget and report for tonight's soirée by tomorrow. Since it's all by the book as you say, there shouldn't be any issues."

The minister's lips stiffened noticeably.

He had been tolerating this princess's bratty antics until now, but what was this?

"If there's no problem, why do you need to see it? It's just tedious number-crunching."

"Wouldn't at least Prime Minister Sise be curious? About how this massive soirée happened in this palace without approval from you or me."

The hand holding the champagne glass froze in place.

His bloodshot eyes darted around the inside and outside of the hall in fury.

When he spotted a suitable spot, a smile crept back onto his face.

He needed to properly put this arrogant princess in her place, away from prying eyes.

"Might I... move to a quieter spot to explain?"

"Of course."

Etienne led the princess to a small room attached to the end of the hall.

Click. The door shut.

Etienne's valet took his wine glass and closed the door. The room now held only Medea and the minister.

"Hoo... Your Highness."

Etienne loosened his cravat, buried in his thick neck, and exhaled slowly.

He seemed quite angry.

"Will you give me an answer now? If not, I can always ask Grandmother."

Etienne swept back his hair and approached Medea.

"Oh, Your Highness. Do you truly not know the answer?"

He glared down at the princess with his beady eyes, exuding ferocity like a hunter menacing a young beast.

"Who in this vast palace is on your side? Prime Minister Sise? The Queen Dowager? If I so much as lift a finger, do you think your nights will be peaceful?"

His voice dripped with mockery.

"All around Your Highness are mere servants. The nobles despise your bloodline. If an attack befell you, who would truly protect you?"

"……."

"So, don't do anything rash. Even beasts don't court their own death."

A blatant threat. Intimidation. A chilling tone.

It was a sight worth paying to see—an old man menacing a girl young enough to be his granddaughter.

Medea set down her glass on the railing and crossed her arms with a smile.

'Sorry, but thanks to my war-torn previous life, your threats are barely sewer-level.'

"We'll see about that. By the way, do you know? Lady Quizin said exactly the same thing."

"……."

"Power flips like the back of your hand. Your position could vanish overnight. Just like the head maid said."

Provoked by the princess, Etienne couldn't hold back and glared at her.

Putting him, the Interior Minister of a nation, on the same level as that foolish head maid who vanished like morning dew after charging in blindly?

Did she think his power was comparable to some mere servant's?

"Hmph. Am I the same as that wench? Without my help, could Your Highness survive in this palace? Fools only learn after they drown."

"Is that so? I'll be sure to remember your wisdom."

"Yes. Keep it firmly in mind."

Medea smiled sweetly at his final, desperate retort.

But oh well, she still had a second jab to stir up the toad's venom.

"Speaking of which, before Lady Quizin died, she said something strange to me."

The minister flinched inwardly but asked nonchalantly.

"What nonsense could that shameless woman have spouted?"

"She said there's a maggot in the palace even filthier and more foul-smelling than me, and that the palace would only run properly once it's crushed."

"……."

"And get this—that maggot has such an ugly appearance it couldn't even mate properly, got culled from its kind entirely."

His thick hand trembled with barely contained rage.

"So, to rebuild its shattered pride, it torments weak, young fledglings—Minister, are you alright? Your face is red."

Medea paused and gave him a concerned look.

"The room... the room is just... hot. Please continue."

The minister forced a smile, his jowls quivering.

'I should have slit that Quizin's throat before she died.'

To think she went around spewing such drivel behind his back.

Just then, he spotted a glass nearby. Without another thought, he grabbed it and downed it in one gulp.

As the cold liquid slid down his throat, the fire in his gut seemed to cool a bit.

"But I just can't figure it out. You've been in this palace a long time, Minister—any guess who she meant?"

"Well... I wouldn't know."

He dragged out his words while eyeing the princess before him.

What did this wench know to spout off like this?

Her clear eyes held no turbidity, leaving Etienne unable to gauge how much she truly knew.

"I'll keep Your Highness's command in mind and investigate. Managing the palace is my duty, after all."

"Of course. I'll trust only you, Minister."

Medea welcomed him with a smile.

"Then, I'll take my leave..."

The minister fled the room and strode out of the hall. With every step, steam seemed to pour from his head.

Only when he reached a small room in an empty corridor did he unleash his belated fury.

"Damn it allll!"

Crash!

"If she weren't royalty, I'd have shut her up in a bite—! How dare she yap! Maggot? Maggot?!"

Panting with rage, the minister snatched the wine bottle from his trailing valet's hand and chugged it down.

"It's lukewarm! You idiot! Fool! Can't even get the temperature right?!"

He vented his groundless fury.

"I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me."

The minister grumbled and tilted the bottle back like a trumpet.

Only as the sharp alcohol gurgled down his throat did the surging heat subside a little.

Meanwhile, Umberto, who had collapsed limply from Etienne's kick, cleaned up his master's mess while recalling the message that arrived days ago.

When the time comes, put the toad on the market block.

'Market block? When is the time?'

He had sent back for clarification on the vague instructions, but contact had ceased after that.

Umberto finally realized that "the time" was today.

A small vial rattled in his pocket. The note had also instructed to slip it into Etienne's drink during the soirée.

The vial contained an ingredient that maximized the effects of the aphrodisiac incense.

Unaware of this, Umberto faithfully carried out the orders.

'The market block must mean this hall, where everyone can see.'

Umberto glanced at the minister guzzling wine like a madman.

'He at least restrained his filthy nature outside before.'

But after meeting the princess today, he was completely wasted, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

'Is it the aftermath of that incense?'

He had served by his side for years, yet the man never fell for ordinary provocations.

Whoever was behind this anonymous note truly intended to utterly destroy Etienne.

'If he makes a scene like that in front of so many people...'

Social annihilation. Reputation in tatters.

"What are you standing around for! The wine's gone! Fetch more, you bastard!"

The minister hurled a stone statue at him.

What was the point of worrying about trash like this? Umberto decided to stop thinking for the minister.

"Yes, of course, Master. I'll head to the kitchen right now for chilled wine and sweet treats."

As he left, he bowed obsequiously, deliberately leaving the door ajar.

Ready for the toad to be released at any moment.

Umberto walked the cold corridor, unable to hide a twinge of anticipation.

How many dirty, rage-inducing moments had he endured at this scum's side?

He had wondered how long he'd have to put up with it, and it seemed today was the day.

"Haa."

As the princess left her seat, a hidden spectator perched on a tree outside the hall finally exhaled.

"Is he always like that? Baldina's princess is fearless. How does someone so tiny not flinch at all?"

"……."

"Baldina's discipline is a total mess. The regent duke, the minister—they're all just scheming to fleece the princess—"

"Shh."

As Garo rambled nonstop, Cezare pressed a finger to his lips.