Chapter 34

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: The Price of Victory
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#34

Kill shuffled closer to the bonfire, basking his entire body in its warmth. After a short silence, his voice, when it came, was a little heavier.

“I have no regrets, but I do want to say I am sorry. To be honest, I dismissed you. A king? I thought the Grand General had brought some strange commoner to be a puppet king so he could seize power.”

“I understand your position. I would have thought the same.”

“Right? But thinking about it now, the Grand General isn't someone who needed to resort to such tricks. His martial prowess was already formidable, and he had a firm grip on the military. A simple coup would have been enough. If he was the one to present someone as king, I should have realized there must have been a good reason… My thinking was short-sighted.”

A flicker of red regret wavered in his wrinkled eyes. Kill smiled, his expression one of relief.

“You are truly… a remarkable woman. I never imagined you would use the Raphi in such a way. I don't yet know if you are fit to be king, but I can say with certainty that you are no ordinary person.”

“That compliment just now, may I take it as sincere?”

“The grudges of the past were settled long ago. Though I may be a man with nothing left, I am not a ruffian who would mock a lady. I am sincere.”

A light laugh drifted through the gentle warmth. Lucy took a step closer to Kill and lowered her voice.

“Duke Kill. I believe our conflict was a clash of great causes. As you said, we were merely riding a great current. And you didn't want to be king; you opposed me as someone who loves Parnas, because I was unproven.”

“Get to the point.”

“…I hold no hostility toward you. I need you. If you acknowledge me as your sovereign, I will give you a chance to return.”

Kill stroked his chin, lost in thought.

On the back of his thin, bony hands, wrinkles and dark spots were etched densely, as if to proclaim the transience of time.

“When I was exiled here instead of being executed, I suspected you might one day come with such an offer. There would be no other reason to keep a traitor alive. It seems you've chosen me as the one to rally the lords, have you?”

“You're quick on the uptake, so there's no need for a long explanation. So, what do you say?”

Kill stood up and let out a deflated laugh. His movements were rather rough as he kicked dirt over the burnt leaves.

“You'd best find someone else. Perhaps because I've lived and enjoyed as much as one can, life as a man of leisure out of power doesn't seem so bad. Just leave me be.”

Kill pushed the pile of extinguished embers to one side.

Lucy, who had been watching him quietly, stood up and looked around. More fallen leaves drifted down onto the empty clearing, dancing with the movement of the wind.

Lucy cleared her expression and turned her gaze back to Kill. Then, she finally brought up the topic she had hesitated to mention, fearing it was petty.

“Aren't you curious how your son is doing?”

As she cast the bait in a clear voice, Kill's eyebrow twitched.

Lucy stamped her foot on a swirling leaf, stopping its movement.

“Atlind Kill is still detained in the command headquarters' prison. He's refusing all food and water, saying he'll pay for his father's sins. I heard he's always been frail; I don't know how long he'll last.”

Instead of getting angry, Kill closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Still, he couldn't stop his clenched fists from trembling.

Lucy waited for him to answer.

By the time the smoke from the burnt embers had completely vanished, Kill spoke in a dry voice.

“That is why I cannot accept you. How! How could you take my son hostage! What sin has that poor boy committed to suffer such disgrace in his father's stead!”

“……”

“Had you defeated me in a humane way, I would have praised you with all my heart. Arsinoe, the daughter of that desert slave, has beaten me! Overwhelmed me! But even with a game you were already set to win, you used the Grand General to turn me into a wretched man. That is why I cannot forgive you!”

“Why should I have to receive your forgiveness?”

Kill fell silent at the reply, which held not a speck of warmth. Lucy looked at him with bitter eyes and spoke again.

“You still see the world only by your own standards, Kill. Why did I take your son hostage? You tried to usurp what was mine, so I simply made use of what was yours.”

“With that kind of double standard…!”

“And just as you cherish Atlind, I too cherish my soldiers. The soldiers you tried to annihilate are also someone's children, someone's fathers. I simply found the most efficient way to protect their lives. Who are you to condemn me as inhumane?”

Kill puffed out his chest and glared at her, his eyes blazing with fury. He wanted to retort, but he realized that any words that came to mind would be nothing more than a petty self-defense, so he kept his mouth shut.

Lucy met his gaze without blinking. After watching him for a moment, she took a step back and straightened her clothes.

“You said you had emptied yourself of everything, but it seems you still have a long way to go. You need to cool your head a bit more. I will come again. And.”

“……”

“Do not mistake my humility for a sign that we are equals. I am the one who brought about your downfall. If you have nothing to lose, you may act as you please, but if you have something to protect, show some respect.”

With a final “I'll be going now,” Lucy turned without hesitation and started walking toward the temple.

A burning gaze fell upon her straight, retreating back.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

The immaculately prepared royal palace had long been ready to welcome its new master, but Lucy, citing security concerns, refused to leave the command headquarters.

No, to be precise, she wouldn't leave the commander's office. As a result, the office was always teeming with attendants, maids, and soldiers.

The one saving grace was that there were three rooms, so the different professions didn't overlap.

While maids gracefully brewed tea in the study, right next door in the command office, soldiers advocating for a new type of mousetrap were demonstrating its principles with a live mouse.

That part was fine, but unfortunately, their exit timing must have overlapped, because a piercing scream erupted from beyond the soldiers pushing open the door.

“Aaaah! It went up my skirt!”

“What do I do! Quick… Aah! Aaaaaah! It's coming this way!”

Over the shouts of “It got away!” and “Catch it, quick!”, the maids' cries continued.

Just from the sounds, it was painfully obvious what kind of commotion was unfolding. Walter, sitting at his desk, rubbed his eyes and pondered how to improve the current situation.

“To baaaathe or not to baaaathe… I should wash up, but it's such a bother…”

A low hum slipped through his complex thoughts, disrupting them.

Walter, deep in thought, realized that stewing alone wouldn't improve things and decided to be direct. He flung the door open and spoke to his sovereign, who was lazing about on the sofa.

“Your Majesty. I believe it is time you returned to the royal palace.”

Lucy, who had been humming to herself while lying on the sofa, sat up awkwardly at Walter's sudden entrance.

She was sloppily dressed in nothing but a thin chemise, holding a pen and some papers. It wasn't just her attire; her surroundings were an even bigger mess.

Half-eaten cookies and teacups were mixed in with all sorts of documents, books, maps, and writing utensils on the cluttered table.

Walter, who detested messes, unknowingly narrowed his eyes, and Lucy quickly made an excuse.

“I was about to clean up. I was just about to.”

“I will call a servant, so please don't trouble yourself. More importantly, as I just mentioned, I believe it would be best for you to move to the palace.”

“Oh, I'm fine here. It's not inconvenient. Don't worry about it.”

“I'm not talking about Your Majesty. The soldiers working here are complaining of the inconvenience. We would appreciate it if you would leave.”

Lucy, who had been smiling playfully, pursed her lips in a surprised expression. But Walter was unmoved.

Even when she pretended to be sad and scratched her cheek awkwardly, Walter simply repeated his request for her to leave with a deadpan expression.

Lucy pretended not to hear and began tidying up the items on the table. Walter debated whether to call out her dismissive attitude or just forcibly evict her, but ultimately chose a third option.

“I know Your Majesty finds the royal palace uncomfortable. Nevertheless, it is a place that illuminates Your Majesty's glory, and it is where you will reside after the coronation. Please do not be reluctant and take this time to grow accustomed to it.”

“I just don't have very good memories there.”

“Once your body gets used to it, the bad memories will fade. Please don't worry, and please leave.”

Lucy pouted, her displeasure evident.

The truth was, she didn't hate the palace. It was a familiar place, and in terms of comfort, it was beyond comparison to the command headquarters.

But she could never bring herself to feel any affection for it.

Before, she had lived in the palace because she had nowhere else to go, but now that she was used to the commander's office, there was no place more comfortable. And with the strongest swordsman in existence always present, her safety was beyond question.

“I'll go after the coronation.”

She reluctantly offered a compromise, but Walter shook his head, looking unconvinced.

“You keep saying that while postponing the coronation itself. Since you've brought it up, how about setting a date for it soon?”

“Ah… I can't do that. It's better to delay it until I've received the pledges of allegiance from the lords. Envoys from other nations will be at the coronation, and I can't afford to look weak.”

*A pledge of allegiance is just a formality, anyway. It doesn't hold much real meaning.*

As he was thinking, Walter suddenly realized something and let out a low groan.