Chapter 52

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 52

Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Take from You

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Contrary to Birna's expectations, the leader showed no hostility toward the princess. Instead, he bowed first and offered a greeting.

"Facade greets Baldina's valiant princess, Your Highness."

"Welcome to Baldina."

Medea gave a slight nod in acknowledgment, and Garo suddenly winked at her.

"Call me Garo. I'm a rough sort with no family name to speak of."

"Very well, Sir Garo."

"Ha ha. Feel free to drop the formalities."

His plump cheek gleamed slickly under the chandelier's light.

Even at his innocent gesture, Medea responded with her usual calm smile, saying nothing.

The fact that Facade's leader had sought her out and greeted her first was undoubtedly a boost to her prestige.

Yet Medea, aware that these people had been wandering Baldina's streets, could not lower her guard.

A suitable exchange of friendly conversation and subtle probing ensued.

Medea got the sense that Garo was paying close attention to the reactions of the mercenary standing behind him throughout their talk.

'Akkarres... was it?'

Then, by chance, her eyes met the mercenary's.

He didn't avert his gaze. Instead, he curled the corner of his mouth upward.

It was odd. The subordinate seemed bolder than his leader.

"That spear of light from Saint Esther that painted the sky earlier was impressive. I've traveled the continent far and wide, but I've never seen such a vivid sign of victory's blessing."

Garo rubbed his hands together with a flourish.

"So the day victory's tidings reach Baldina can't be far off—"

"Too coincidental to call it mere chance, don't you think?"

An unexpected question cut in. Medea turned her head.

"It flared bright right on cue and vanished just as quickly. Since when does the goddess's will cater to human white lies?"

"Akkarres, what are you saying? Princess, forgive us. He has a habit of cracking foolish jokes."

Seeing Garo whirl around with a flustered expression toward his own mercenary, Medea identified the source of the question.

A top mercenary from Facade—he might have recognized the traces of her white light burst.

"It's fine, sir."

Medea decided to play it cool.

"A faithful Baldinan would never dare speak falsehoods in the goddess's name, but I can't expect such faith from Facade, who scoffs at blasphemy. I understand completely."

"......"

Garo was struck dumb, like a bee stung silent. The mercenary, undeterred by the rebuke, asked with evident interest.

"Then does that make the princess faithful herself?"

"Of course."

Medea met the mercenary's eyes squarely as she replied.

"If I didn't trust in the goddess's mercy, do you think I'd overlook your insolence?"

Cezare stifled a laugh at the princess's cool rebuke, delivered with such an innocent expression.

The very girl who had swayed the Queen Dowager's heart with a statue of the goddess and fooled the Regent Duke with a fake holy light was calling herself faithful?

"Akkarres, show some respect to the princess..."

Garo prodded Cezare's side repeatedly, his face full of distress at their exchange.

Has the boss forgotten he's disguised as a mere mercenary right now? This is the princess of the realm!

But upon hearing her retort,

'Your kind? Insolence? O-our boss isn't the type to take that...'

Garo's face fell as if he'd been slapped, leaving him dumbstruck once more.

"—What is the meaning of this?!"

At that moment, the banquet hall erupted in chaos.

Finally! A glint flashed in his emerald eyes.

The three of them turned their heads.

"Minister— what is the meaning of this?!"

"Hah, hah, huff..."

There stood Interior Minister Etienne, half-naked and panting as he pummeled a shriveled old noble to the ground.

One hour earlier, Count Etienne's situation.

"Maggot? Quizin, you dare toy with me?"

The anger he'd felt upon first hearing the princess's words had snowballed, growing uncontrollably within him.

His aimless fury exploded all at once.

Crash! Clang!

"Claudio, you treated me like dirt too, didn't you? Thought you could puppeteer me just because you had my weakness? Ha!"

The venomous toad's rage now extended to Duke Claudio, Quizin's master.

The minister was well aware of his own grotesque appearance and perversions.

He even took twisted pleasure in the eyes that fawned before him while failing to hide their disgust, in the troubled faces.

But to think even Duke Claudio—who had reached out first, understanding his perversions—had done the same. It carved a deep gash into the minister's pride.

The image of the duke's smug face only stoked his fever higher.

"The princess, the Regent Duke—they're all the same breed. Do they think royal blood is gold? Without it, they'd be trembling before me..."

The minister's long-hidden true feelings began spilling out one by one.

The incense he'd been inhaling via Umberto had played a large role, but so had the drug Birna had slipped into Medea's wine.

"Why is this room so damn hot, Umberto! Umberto!"

The page who'd gone to fetch more wine was nowhere to be seen. His parched throat burned like fire, but the bottle was empty.

Even a worthless little page boy dares ignore me now?

"These bastards all take me for a fool!"

He shot to his feet.

His whole body felt like it was swelling with heat.

The cravat choking his neck, the tight banquet attire—they suffocated him. Etienne tore off his clothes one by one.

Having stripped away every hindrance, he yanked open the door Umberto had left ajar.

A rush of cool air greeted him as he escaped the room thick with stale liquor and foul sweat.

In the distance, he spotted the banquet hall aglow with golden light.

"Oh ho, so that's where the rat slunk off to... Time to teach him a lesson—"

Suddenly, the banquet hall's music reached the minister's ears.

The beautiful melody flowing into his ears, the ha-ha-ho-ho of laughter and chatter, the sweet scents carried on the breeze—even this chilly corridor seemed to mock him.

No matter how he thrashed, he'd never set foot in that bright, lively sunlight.

Blue flames leaped in the minister's eyes.

"Think there's anywhere in Baldina this body of mine can't go?!"

Etienne strode toward the golden light.

A shriveled old noble spotted him looming at the banquet hall entrance and paled in shock.

His face was flushed beet red, his outer garments discarded, sweat pouring off him.

As he drew closer, the stench of booze assaulted the nose.

"Minister Etienne? What in the world..."

"What's this old coot? Go carve your coffin and crawl in!"

The noble took offense but figured the minister was too drunk to even recognize him.

"Now, Minister, I don't know what's happened, but let's move somewhere else for now. There are ladies and young misses here—this sort of display is hardly appropriate—"

The noble tried to placate and usher him away with good intentions.

He had no idea how his words sounded to the hallucinating minister.

[How dare a filthy maggot stick his nose in? You trash!]

"Trash? You walking corpse!"

The moment the noble grabbed the minister's thick, sweat-slicked arm in disgust, stars exploded before his eyes.

The minister had socked him in the jaw.

A roar echoed from the entrance, drawing every eye in the hall.

"What? What's going on?"

"Wait, isn't that... Interior Minister Count Etienne? What's he doing?"

"Minister, excuse us."

Palace attendants rushed over, helping the fallen noble up and seizing Etienne's arms.

"Let go! I said let go! Do you know who I am? You lot—let go!"

Etienne thrashed wildly.

With his massive bulk and lost reason, even the attendants couldn't hold him.

The precarious tangle of bodies shaking like a lump drew screams from onlookers.

Amid the piercing shrieks assaulting his ears, Etienne looked up.

Hundreds of eyes. The chandelier's harsh glare.

"Hah, huff, heuk..."

They were all laughing at him. He could almost hear the snickering.

As he scanned about wildly, his eyes landed on Medea.

When people vent their rage, they usually target the easiest mark—the weak one who won't retaliate.

"You... yoooou—!"

To the minister, the young princess was exactly that.

"Kyaaah!"

"Her Highness is in danger!"

The minister bellowed and charged.