Chapter 30

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: The Second Trap
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Lucy stroked her blushing cheeks and said in a coy tone.

“Walter.”

“Yes.”

“Where did you learn to seduce people with such a straight face? Don't say you'll kill him for me. It makes me want to marry you.”

“Pardon?”

“And with a face like that… Honestly. If you don't want to get pounced on, you'd better leave now.”

Murmuring things he couldn't understand, Lucy waved her hands, shooing him away repeatedly. Walter, who had been sitting there looking bewildered, left the room without understanding the situation at all after she snapped at him, asking if he wanted to be kissed.

Staring at the spot where he had disappeared, Lucy pulled the covers over her head and let out a long, deep sigh.

Truly, after dealing with that mad Crown Prince, seeing Walter made her feel like there was no man in the world more wonderful.

*Your Majesty's enemy is my enemy. I will bring you his head.*

Good grief, to hear something like that.

“Just hearing those words is enough to satisfy me.”

She let out a dry laugh, fiddling with the corners of her mouth. Then, she suddenly wondered where his loyalty, which was akin to religious faith, came from.

Why did he choose me as his king?

Why did he vow to be loyal to me?

The question she had pushed to a corner of her heart grew until it consumed her thoughts. Surely, there must have been something he approved of so strongly that he defied all opposition to support her as king...

No matter how much she pondered it, the answer, as always, remained elusive. Staring at the ceiling, Lucy thought of the blank space on an answer sheet and erased the question without hesitation.

Why bother wondering?

I'll find out someday as we go through things together.

“I need to think about other things right now.”

In the space where the question had been, the reality for which she had found an answer rose to the surface.

It had been a rather complicated process, but in the end, she had succeeded in bringing down Kill.

As a man who reigned as a king behind the scenes among the nobility, Kill's fall would have significant repercussions for the lords.

The next step is what's important.

As they say, when the tiger is away, the fox becomes king. Someone would surely appear to take Kill's place.

The candidates... probably two of them.

Whether her reign would be stable or not would depend on how she tamed them.

“It's time to set the second trap.”

With her eyes closed, Lucy methodically laid out the scheme for the next stage in her mind.

At the end of a long branch of thought, the drowsiness she thought had receded crept back, slowly consuming her mind. The vermilion sunset that had settled in unknowingly sent a gentle warmth through her thin eyelids.

Before long, the monologues faded, and the sound of steady breathing spread quietly through the room.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

From a superficial perspective, most people think of war as a clash of swords. However, those who have actually experienced war declare it to be a battle of paperwork.

During operational planning, countless documents like memoranda of understanding, requests for cooperation, proposals, and directives must be created. After the war ends, daily life is filled with repair statements, suggestions, apologies, more memoranda, follow-up reports, and self-reflections.

Consequently, the command office became a festival of documents, leaving no room to even set foot.

Whees, arriving with more documents, saw Walter sitting at his desk, silently moving his pen. He paused, feeling like a devil for having to place another pile of papers next to him.

“Grand General. Would you care for a cup of tea?”

He spoke cautiously, but Walter, his eyes fixed on the documents, shook his head firmly.

“It would be a disaster if I spilled it on the papers. Don't worry about me.”

Hesitantly, Whees placed the stack of documents he was holding on the desk. Whees hovered nearby in an awkward posture before speaking in a displeased tone.

“Isn't this a bit... unreasonable? It seems the Grand General is handling the duties of the Grand Marshal.”

“It can't be helped. Her Majesty hasn't had her coronation yet, so she can't appoint new officials. It's not that difficult, so don't concern yourself.”

It looked like it would take three or four days just to read the documents currently piled on the desk, yet he said it wasn't difficult.

He didn't know whether to call him amazing or relentless. Whees stroked his chin and frowned.

“When is the official coronation scheduled to take place?”

“She said it will proceed right after the disposal of Duke Kill's domain is complete and she has received the lords' oaths of fealty. At the earliest, it will likely be next month.”

“Speaking of which, what happened to the Duke? Was he executed?”

Walter, who had been staring at his papers the whole time, lifted his head.

He looked up at the ceiling with an unreadable expression, then very slowly shook his head from side to side.

“Goedel Kill has been exiled to the temple north of the royal palace.”

“...The temple? Is he going to become a monk?”

“No. He was assigned as a cleaner.”

A cleaner?

Whees's jaw dropped, and he shot Walter a look of utter disbelief.

“Wouldn't it be better to just kill him at that point? How can you reduce the great Duke Kill to a cleaner in that old temple? Isn't that too humiliating a punishment?”

“Humiliating? I thought it was an overly generous punishment for a traitor... It seems you and I have a great difference of opinion.”

At his calm voice, Whees's expression stiffened.

Walter clasped his hands together on the desk. Resting his chin on the back of his hands, he continued with a placid expression.

“I was wondering why Her Majesty made such a decision, but seeing people like you, I think I understand. The lords value their honor more than their lives. Anyone who dares to challenge Her Majesty's authority must be prepared to be reduced to a temple cleaner as well.”

The dead leave no scandals and are thus easily glorified.

If Kill had died, some nobles might have mourned him, thinking of him as a great man who rose up against a queen with no legitimacy.

Perhaps other lords would have risen up in rebellion, claiming to carry on his will.

But a fallen man cannot become a symbol. Instead, he can only be ridiculed as a cautionary tale.

The fact that Lucy made him a cleaner instead of killing him was likely a warning to the nobility.

“What happened to the Duke's family? Surely they were executed?”

“The eldest son was demoted to a serf. The second son, Atlind Kill, is imprisoned, claiming he will atone for his father's sins. Her Majesty said she would decide Atlind Kill's fate after today's meeting... I'm not sure what will happen.”

Vengeance begets more vengeance. That is why, to prevent future trouble, it is custom to eradicate the entire bloodline of a family that commits treason.

However, Lucy chose a different path.

Since she didn't kill the Duke's heir, she probably won't kill Atlind Kill either.

Walter moved his clasped hands, tapping his fingers with his index finger.

Atlind's face surfaced in his hazy vision.

The one-eyed young man, the same age as himself, with a weak and sensitive disposition, completely unlike Goedel Kill.

What punishment would she mete out to him, I wonder.

The meeting time is approaching anyway. I should escort her to the prison after it's over. I can use the pretext of guarding her to ask what punishment she has in mind.

Remembering the meeting, Walter suddenly sighed and rose from his seat. Buried in paperwork, he hadn't even realized the meeting was imminent.

Walter asked Whees to organize the documents and then headed to the adjacent room where Lucy was.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

After a long time, the doors to the council chamber opened.

It had been a full two months since Lucy had presented the solution to the epidemic, and a fortnight since Duke Kill's rebellion had been thwarted.

The faces of the nobles were a mixture of joy and sorrow. The nobles who had secretly supported Duke Kill paced the corridors with gloomy faces, while those who had recovered from illness thanks to Lucy marveled at the new king's decisiveness and were already seated early, awaiting her arrival.

Vanessa Rutherford was decidedly in the latter group.

She had never been on good terms with Duke Kill, and Lucy had saved her daughter's life, making the new king a worthy figure to support. That was why she had readily accepted Lucy's request to gather her subjects without much thought.

As Rutherford waited with a bright expression for the king's entrance, Duke Witten approached and kissed the back of her hand.

“It has been a while, Marquess Rutherford. I heard that your eldest daughter has recovered. Is she in good health?”

“Yes. Thanks to your concern, she is up and about now, preparing for social activities. For a child who was on death's door to recover her strength so quickly... I truly don't know how to repay Her Majesty's grace.”

“Since the Marquess is so impressed, I suppose that is why Her Majesty proposed you join hands. Still, subjects are not objects to be so easily sent and received. Ho ho...”

The smile on Rutherford's lips slowly faded.

He was smiling, but his words were barbed.

He was subtly rebuking the fact that Lucy and Rutherford had joined forces to defend the palace.

In his slick tone, a hint of envy and displeasure could be glimpsed. Rutherford raised the corners of her mouth again and skillfully retorted.

“When she is trying to restore order, how could I not step forward? Regardless of whether I support Her Majesty, I believe it is only right to offer that much help to the one who saved my daughter.”

“If that is what the Marquess believes, then I have nothing more to say. However, I think such an act, which gambles with the lives of one's subjects, deserves condemnation.”

At the word “condemnation,” Rutherford bristled and lowered her voice.

“You say the most amusing things. When Her Majesty requested my cooperation, she promised that not a single one of my subjects would be harmed. Who am I to gamble with their lives? I simply trusted Her Majesty.”

“To fall for such sweet talk... the Marquess has grown quite soft, hasn't she?”

At his mocking tone, Rutherford's eyes glinted with a sharper edge.