Chapter 50

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Confinement and Plans
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#50

Ten days had passed since the Witten incident, and a new day dawned at the command headquarters.

Lucy stared at a single point with a sour expression, then muttered to herself as if letting the words slip out.

“Really… what a crafty old man.”

Glaring at the table with a resentful face, Lucy picked up a muffin from her plate and chewed it ferociously, as if tearing into an enemy.

The more she chewed the muffin, the more her displeased expression softened. Her anger from moments before vanished, and she began to quickly stuff the muffin into her mouth, thinking, ‘Oh, this is good.’

Watching her, Walter poured tea into an empty cup with an impassive face.

“His Majesty is truly a man one cannot be careless around.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes.”

“Did you not just hear me? I think you’ve got the wrong subject.”

“I heard you perfectly, and I am referring to Your Majesty, not Duke Kill.”

Lucy fiddled with her muffin and lowered her voice.

“No… isn’t Duke Kill the more unpredictable one…? I never imagined he’d pass judgment on me right then and there.”

“Are you referring to the three months of confinement?”

Lucy nodded, the corners of her mouth drooping in an aggrieved expression, but Walter’s face remained unchanged.

Walter stared blankly at the tea leaf dregs swirling in his cup.

“I have only now come to understand Your Majesty’s true intentions.”

“What intentions?”

“I thought the core of this incident was to oust Duke Witten, but now that I think about it, that wasn't the case.”

The swirling motion of the tea dregs slowly subsided. Walter, his gaze fixed on the tea, fell deep into thought.

When Lucy first provoked Witten, insisting her intuition screamed that he was a spy. And even when she ordered constant surveillance on him, telling me to capture the moment he contacted the Emperor.

No, even up to the point she dragged Witten into the courtroom.

I thought her objective was Witten. I thought she was trying to drive out a man who would become a political enemy in order to strengthen Marquess Rutherford’s position.

But…

“Regardless of the law, Your Majesty could have pressured Witten with the authority of the throne. But I did find it strange that you insisted on holding a trial to secure a hearing. However…”

To think she would bring in such an unexpected figure to control the situation.

He moved his eyes from the teacup to look at Lucy. Facing her feigned ignorance, he unconsciously toyed with the corner of his mouth.

“Your Majesty’s true intention was to restore Duke Kill’s authority. Of course, you must have also wished to expel Duke Witten in the process. It was, in essence, killing two birds with one stone.”

I had known for some time of her plan to bring Duke Kill back into the political sphere.

However, no matter how wise and sagacious he was, Goedel Kill was a traitor, and the one who had branded him as such was Lucy herself.

If she were to reinstate him herself, Lucy would be seen as a foolish king who forgives even those who have betrayed her.

Goedel Kill would become a model of a successful traitor, encouraging a surge of dissidents.

Therefore, his return was a difficult matter, no matter how it was approached.

And yet…

To think she would accomplish it in such a way.

“Still, isn’t three months of confinement a bit much?”

Lucy grumbled, mumbling around the last piece of muffin. Walter took a napkin and wiped her sticky hands as he spoke.

“If he had sided with Your Majesty in that situation, the lords would have suspected Duke Kill’s intentions. It was because you deemed it a fair judgment that you accepted his verdict, was it not?”

“Hmm…”

“Duke Witten also received exile instead of execution… While it may not have pleased Your Majesty, it was a largely unbiased verdict.”

Bon Witten narrowly escaped the death penalty on the grounds that his status as a duke and his past achievements could not be ignored.

The lords demanded his execution, arguing that the seeds of rebellion must be cut out, but Duke Kill opposed it, calling it an excessive measure.

I could understand why Duke Kill opposed it. It wasn't to protect Witten, but for political reasons.

If he were swayed by public opinion and imposed too harsh a punishment, someone would inevitably find fault with it later.

That sly old fox.

Lucy shook her head, muttering inwardly.

“Walter, you seem to think I’m some kind of homicidal maniac, but I didn’t particularly want Duke Witten dead. I just wanted him out of politics.”

“Where do you plan to send him into exile?”

“Now that Duke Kill has returned… there should be a janitor position opening up at some nameless temple, so I’m thinking of sending him there. Duke Witten is quite the neat freak, so wouldn’t it suit his disposition?”

A proper handover is always necessary, after all.

Duke Kill, with his advanced age, seemed to have taken to temple life quite well, but Witten is a young middle-aged man. He might find every day dreadfully boring.

She spoke calmly as she sipped her tea. The muffin she’d eaten earlier must have been too sweet, because she could barely taste the tea despite having added a generous amount of sugar.

Should I add more sugar, or just put it down?

After a moment of deliberation, she downed the bland tea in one gulp. Then she set the cup down and flopped onto the sofa with a languid expression.

Walter naturally shifted to the edge of the sofa, and Lucy curled up, resting her head on his thigh.

She buried her forehead in her personal pillow—firm, yet comforting—and mumbled to herself, her words barely audible.

“Strange. I slept so much, but I’m sleepy again.”

“Sleeping too much is also bad for your health. You should sleep at night.”

Lucy ignored his advice and rubbed her forehead against his thigh.

“Walter, your body is so warm, I love it. It’s even better because it’s winter. It would be great if I could have you next to me when I sleep…”

“Even so, men and women must maintain their distance. Sharing a bed is out of the question.”

“I know that much.”

‘It’s a joke, a joke,’ Lucy muttered as her eyelids slowly drifted shut. Gazing down at her, Walter shifted his eyes to the pale hand dangling off the edge of the sofa and asked.

“Come to think of it, Your Majesty’s hands and feet are always cold. Is there perhaps something wrong?”

“No… they’ve always been like that. Bad blood circulation or something.”

Lucy clenched and unclenched her hand, then peeked up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Right. Since we’re on the subject, could you massage my hand? Your hands are warm, so it’ll warm up in no time.”

Lucy plopped her limp hand onto Walter’s thigh and urged him to hurry up and start.

Walter let out a light sigh as if he had no choice and carefully began to massage her hand.

“Ohh… this is heaven, absolute heaven…”

Ohh, ahhh, that’s good—a stream of moans and groans flowed ceaselessly from between her slightly parted, peach-colored lips.

It was impossible to tell whether he was massaging a young maiden or an old grandmother. Still, her reaction wasn’t bad, so Walter rolled up his sleeves in earnest and began to massage her hands and feet.

Ten days had passed since the Witten incident.

Ordered to confinement, Lucy had made a nest for herself in Walter’s study, seemingly determined to stay put, and hadn’t taken a single step outside.

Thanks to his nagging, she at least kept her room clean, but he worried she might catch a cold, as she always wore nothing but a light chemise.

Even now, here she was, sprawled out in the middle of a cold winter wearing only a white chemise, her body’s curves on full display.

And yet, to feel no sense of shame whatsoever—was that just her being herself?

Walter shifted his position, pushed aside the hem of the chemise covering her feet, and began to massage them with a blank expression.

“You’re confined for three months. What are your plans for the time being?”

“Hmm… in three months, it’ll be spring, and I was planning to hold the coronation then. So I figured I’d think of this as a vacation until then. I’ve been using my head too much lately, and I’ve been feeling dizzy…”

Sigh. The way she clutched her forehead as she sighed looked delicate and pitiful. But Walter watched her with an indifferent expression, debating whether or not to nag her.

He suspected the reason for Lucy’s dizziness was that she had slept for seventeen straight hours from yesterday to today.

She hadn’t woken up for so long that he’d worried she was sick and had even brought the royal physician, only to be told she was simply sleeping. He had been utterly dumbfounded.

To Walter, who had never slept more than six hours a night, someone like Lucy who slept all day seemed not just wondrous, but like a different species altogether.

Then again, Lycans and Raphi all have different ancestors. Seeing how Lucy hibernates, maybe her ancestors were bears.

As he continued these idle thoughts, casually massaging her ankle, a good idea came to him.

What was it Zen had said the other day?

「Her Majesty seemed to have poor stamina even back in her cadet days. How about we take her to the Twin Mountains?」

The reason her hands and feet were cold was poor blood circulation. To be precise, it was probably from a lack of exercise.

As it happened, most of the urgent matters had been settled, and Lucy was free, making it the perfect time to climb a mountain. Walter opened his mouth, closed it, hesitated, then cautiously spoke.

“Um… Your Majesty. You don’t have any urgent business for a while, so are you free this weekend?”

“The weekend? Why?”

“I thought perhaps we could go on an outing for a change of pace.”

Lucy shot up from her spot, her eyes sparkling with a bright expression.

“Where are we going? Shopping? A hot spring?”

Walter, who had been about to casually suggest going to the mountains, shut his mouth at the words ‘shopping’ and ‘hot spring’.

So she likes shopping and hot springs.

Well, she always seems to enjoy her baths, so I suppose it makes sense she’d like things like that.

…Somehow, I get the feeling she’ll flatly refuse if I suggest going to the mountains.