Chapter 59

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 59

Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Take from You

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59

Claudio Ducal House.

The Regent Duke's carriage, which had departed for the palace early that morning, didn't return until nearly sunset.

"Father, you're back? Hand over the pardon document. I'll head straight to the Prime Minister's office."

Samon had no doubt that Medea would stamp the seal on the petition to save the minister.

"Father...?"

Seeing his father hesitate, he asked with a quizzical look.

"Did that girl refuse?"

"No, it wasn't that..."

"Then what?"

Unable to hold back, Samon snatched the scroll from his father and unrolled it.

Shrrk!

The space below where the king's seal should have been was blank.

"She demanded a bribe."

The Regent Duke's voice rang in the stunned Samon's ears.

"A bribe? From that idiot?"

"Yes, that idiot. She wants thirty chests filled with gold bars."

"Thirty chests?"

Samon echoed in disbelief.

"Has Medea lost her mind?"

"She must have gotten greedy watching Lady Quizin. Then she forgot her place amid this newfound luxurious life."

"..."

Samon stroked his chin.

Medea was dim-witted. Weak to emotions, and thus foolish.

But she wasn't greedy. Far from it—she never haggled over money.

'What's changed? This isn't like Medea. Why suddenly? Why now...?'

As Samon sank deep into thought, Claudio patted his son's shoulder.

"Either way, it's not bad for us. If money sways her, then money is all we need."

Etienne's charges were tangled with military law, making them far too risky.

No one in the Regent Duke's faction dared step forward to help, lest their own crimes come to light alongside his.

No one but a fool like the princess would charge in blindly to save the minister.

So they had to meet Medea's demands, come what may.

"The problem is how to prepare thirty chests..."

Filling thirty chests with gold ingots was more than even the Regent Duke could handle alone.

"Excluding the secret funds for the rebels and Osrof, the most liquid cash our house can muster right now is about five chests at best."

"That's all?"

The Regent Duke frowned. It was far less than he'd hoped.

"Yes. We already delayed the military funds to the rebels. And repaying the costs from this banquet has drained our reserves."

Damn it. The Regent Duke bit his lip.

The rebels, the banquet—when you got right down to it, it was all because of Medea.

The thought of handing money back to the very person who'd cut off their once-overflowing funds made his teeth grind.

"Father, we can't shoulder the entire burden of saving the minister alone. Etienne himself and his subordinates need to contribute."

Samon did the math.

"If we scrape together from everywhere, it's not an impossible sum."

"Understood. I'll pass the word to the minister."

Claudio left to contact Etienne, who was no doubt desperately awaiting news of his pardon by now.

Princess Palace.

"But, Your Highness. If Duke Claudio actually brings thirty chests filled with gold coins, are you really going to release the minister?"

After Claudio departed, Saya asked. She simply couldn't understand it.

Why should our princess save a piggish villain like Etienne?

Even she, utterly ignorant of politics, could foresee the massive backlash.

She knew the people now gleefully cursing Etienne wouldn't treat the princess kindly either.

And she hoped her kind mistress wouldn't fall for the duke's ulterior motives—asking his own young niece to clean up his filthy mess.

"As if."

"Then why say it?"

Medea smirked, curling the corner of her mouth.

"Because it will keep dear Uncle busy scrambling to gather thirty chests—more than he can handle alone—for the foreseeable future."

That was why she'd demanded an impossible bribe.

As he frantically scurried about to scrape together the cash, he'd have less and less time to fuss over the minister rotting in prison.

Especially now, when the minister had nowhere to run anyway.

"Out of sight, out of mind."

But would the minister, locked away alone, appreciate the Regent Duke's tireless efforts to save him?

With his shady temperament, wouldn't he instead suspect the duke of hatching new schemes in his absence?

"Neril, tell Prime Minister Sise to pay a visit to the prison."

It was time to plant the seeds of doubt.

"Yes, Your Highness."

In her past life, their trust—stronger than ever—had held firm. Medea intended to test just how long it would last this time.

"Your Highness, Umberto is waiting. I'll escort you when you're ready."

Medea nodded.

"Ugh..."

Umberto groaned as he regained consciousness.

His vision was a hazy white blur.

'Where am I?'

He tried to move, but thick ropes bound him tight, allowing no wiggle room.

'What happened? Who captured me?'

Umberto racked his brain.

He'd slipped away quietly from the chaos at Count Etienne's residence when the royal knights burst in.

'I was just about to head to the rendezvous with HQ. That's when...'

Thwack. A dull pain at the back of his head—that was his last memory.

'I missed their presence. Damn it, I got careless watching that pig bastard get hauled away.'

Realizing he'd been ambushed, Umberto bit his lip.

He'd always known a day like this might come in his line of work. But he hadn't expected it to be now.

Thud. Thud. Footsteps approached.

Soon, the firmly shut door creaked open. Umberto straightened up.

'Two people. One has heavy steps—a knight? The other... rustling skirts? A woman?'

Scraaape. A chair dragged across the floor as one of them sat. Neither spoke first.

'Damn, I can only guess from the sounds.'

The sack over his head was tightly woven, rendering his vision opaque.

Through the coarse fabric, he could barely make out shadowy figures.

"Ack!"

Suddenly, the sack was yanked off his head.

Blinding light stabbed his eyes, and Umberto squinted furiously.

Only after some time, as his eyes adjusted, could he finally see the person seated before him.

A silver-haired girl in a black dress stared at him.

Skin pale and pure white. Vivid green eyes, a noble jawline. She looked familiar.

Umberto had seen her very recently.

Where? Before the question fully formed, his eyes widened like saucers.

"P-Princess...?"

"Long time no see, Umberto."

The princess set down her fan with a soft click and greeted him. Her tone was casually familiar, like addressing a close aide.

"Y-You know me?"

'Long time no see? Do I have any prior acquaintance with Baldina's princess?'

The boss had already deemed the Baldinan royals unworthy targets and assigned him to Minister Etienne.

"The Queen Dowager's been secluded too long—hard to plant a spy, and even if we did, she's in the back rooms with no real gains.

Regent Duke Claudio's already in bed with Kazen's elite. Approaching without knowing the full picture risks exposing our organization.

And Baldina's princess... not even worth the effort of infiltration."

A dim-witted princess with no presence, no influence on politics—she hadn't even been on their radar.

'The boss's judgment has never been wrong.'

Yet here she was, mocking that judgment, greeting him right in front of his eyes.

With the ease and warmth of an old friend.

"You... know me?"