Chapter 97

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 97

Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Steal from You

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‘Is there a path like this in the palace?’

Neril guided Sise past the back paths of the Administrative Palace and into a quiet little passageway where few people passed.

After traversing the dark area lit by a single torch, she knocked on a small wooden door, and Saya opened it.

“Her Highness is waiting inside.”

Guided into the small room, Sise caught sight of Medea and his eyes widened slightly.

“Prime Minister Sise, sorry to call you out so late at night. I wanted to discuss something away from prying eyes.”

Her white cheeks looked soft, and a lush shadow fell over her fine eyebrows.

The young princess, whom he'd thought of as just a girl, seemed a handspan more mature under the dim lantern light.

A space left for just the two of them, bathed in faint firelight. A girl waiting patiently.

“Yes, Your Highness. What are your orders?”

Sise chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to steady his dizzying mind.

“I need to look into the information on Peleus's Royal Guard knights. Their origins, backgrounds, families—everything.”

“You mean the Agema?”

Medea nodded.

“Yes. That shouldn't be too difficult, but... why all of a sudden?”

“Prime Minister, are you taking your Hallus antidote properly?”

Sise froze, grasping her meaning.

“Are you saying the Regent Duke has planted spies even within the Agema?”

Medea smiled faintly. Sise shook his head in disbelief.

“That can't be... They've served His Majesty since their knighting. They're not the type to betray him...”

“You trust them easily. Just like you trusted that maid.”

Medea's low remark shut Sise's mouth.

Her green eyes gleamed with worldly cunning and sharp vigilance all at once.

“Soon, news of Peleus's victory over the Rasai tribe will spread, and your uncle will make his move. We need to act first.”

Medea continued calmly.

‘There was an incident before Peleus returned.’

At the time, the fierce Rasai tribe had united the plains nomads and ambushed Peleus.

The traitor in the Agema abandoned Peleus instead of calling for reinforcements, leaving him surrounded on all sides.

Thanks to his knights sacrificing their lives to carve an escape route, Peleus barely fled.

But he suffered a deep wound to his right leg, which led to a permanent limp.

Most of his Royal Guard knights died protecting him too. Of the two hundred elites, only twelve returned alive.

With the brave and loyal king's guard shattered, the royal authority weakened further.

“Deliver this to Peleus.”

Medea handed over a letter.

“I will. I'll keep eyes on the Regent Duke's side as well.”

Medea gave a small nod of assent instead of replying.

“But, Your Highness.”

Sise paused as he turned to leave.

“Please reconsider keeping Facade so close. The mercenary may be skilled, but his cruelty is excessive. He's too sharp a blade for Your Highness to wield.”

“...”

Medea gazed at Sise steadily before countering.

“Can you swear that good people never turn vicious?”

Jason was the hero who saved the continent. Yet countless sacrificed for his fame.

Rachel was a saint. Yet she poisoned her own son.

“Your Highness.”

“I appreciate the concern. But that's as far as it goes.”

This was the clear line the princess drew for Sise.

Their relationship was plain. Allies cooperating for Baldina's survival.

Anything more was overstepping.

Medea's view was far broader and denser than Sise's.

“I know Facade is a blade that cuts its master. I won't keep him long. Once he's served his purpose, I'll send him out of Baldina. Don't worry too much.”

“...Understood. Forgive my impertinent advice.”

Sise swallowed a sigh and withdrew.

The same answer. The same expression.

Was it because he realized there was a bond between the princess and Cezare that he didn't know?

On the way back, his mouth tasted bitterly foul.

The Kazen delegation's lodgings.

Several days had passed since the banquet ended, but Angelique still couldn't shake off its aftermath.

“Aaaargh!”

Crash!

Ornaments airlifted painstakingly from Kazen to here shattered and splintered at the Fourth Imperial Princess's gesture.

“What are you going to do! Father will blame me! Not only did we refuse aid, we'll end up sending double back to this mad country! What now!”

Thinking of her enraged father made her vision go dark. She trembled violently, biting her nails.

Crunch. Crunch. A chilling sound echoed.

“Your Highness, please calm yourself.”

Then her black eyes flashed.

“Kensington, can't we just kill that princess bitch? Without the oath's signatory, how can they enforce the promise?”

Kensington nearly sighed aloud.

“What about the hundreds of eyes at the banquet? Continental law demands we honor anything formalized in writing. You'd give every nation cause to tear into Kazen. His Majesty would be even more furious.”

“Then what am I supposed to do!”

“That's why I said you shouldn't have stamped the seal so rashly—”

Crash! A heavy object whistled past Kensington's ear.

The furious princess had hurled a nearby vase.

“You should've stopped me harder! That's why you're here! If you're taking my pay, you should've done your damn job no matter what I said!”

She irresponsibly shoved the blame onto Kensington.

Even though the wound on his cheek was still plainly visible.

Watching the princess throw a tantrum even here, trying to weasel out, Kensington couldn't help but recall someone.

‘Princess Medea.’

Both princesses of their nations, yet how different.

One throws herself for her country; the other uses her country for herself.

What's the use of fine bloodlines and backgrounds? Rotten from the root.

“Get out! Get out! I don't want to see your face!”

Kensington stepped outside and wiped his gaunt face. Deep fatigue washed over him.

Back in Kazen, the emperor's wrath would turn on him.

It would touch the princess too, of course, but ultimately, he'd bear the responsibility.

“...I've grown old.”

When he'd served silently without wants, where had this pointless melancholy come from now?

“Her Highness seems quite distressed.”

Footsteps approached the dejected Kensington.

Seeing Count Raju with his oily eyes, Kensington's mood soured.

‘A hyena of a man. Never hunts, just eyes the meat.’

At the banquet, he'd groveled to curry favor with the princess, but when she fell into trouble, he hadn't uttered a peep. Kensington remembered that cowardice well.

Yet, as head of intelligence, no displeasure leaked out.

“...Yes. Keep your distance. Dismiss the attendants too.”

She left only a curt warning.

Whether Raju poked the Fourth Princess and got his comeuppance was none of her concern.

Once Kensington left, Count Raju glanced around and whistled.

Then Samon emerged from the shadows behind a pillar.

A thick scent of alcohol wafted from the princess's bedchamber.

“If you're all taking my money, do your jobs right for once!”

The princess vented her rage.

Clink! A wine glass flew and shattered.

“That... that bastard Jason too. He should've denied it to the end... No... Why didn't any of you foresee this? Why?”

Thoroughly drunk, she looked up to see Samon appear before her.

“Your Highness, you seem deeply troubled. Allow me to apologize on Medea's behalf.”

Samon recalled his talk with Count Raju and lifted the corner of his mouth.

“The Fourth Princess is probably drowning her sorrows in drink by now. When her mood sours, she seeks comfort in liquor. If you're aiming for her side, now's your chance.”