A lavish tea table more splendid than the sumr garden was set before her. Sitting perfectly still with impeccable posture was a woman in her mid-twenties.
Celested Violin Winchester. Once the first princess, now deposed under the heinous charge of attempting to poison her half-brother.
“......”
The deposed princess regarded the colorful desserts as if they were ornants. She thought of herself, sitting so demurely before them, as no different from a decorative doll.
So when she believed simply sitting prettily fulfilled her role and remained silent, the queen, who had been staring beyond the balcony, turned her body.
Her steps were graceful yet dignified as she approached behind the chair where Celested sat. Her delicate hand gripped the backrest.
“Does your mother not ask?”
“......”
Still no response from Celested, so Queen Raviosa’s gentle hand traced the curve of the chair’s backrest.
It reached the exposed neck, seeming to grip the unguarded breath as if to choke it. Yet the hand rose higher, touching her platinum hair.
Like any caring mother, she softly stroked the strands and whispered.
“Your mother asks, Celi.”
“......”
The deposed princess, whose neck seed unbreakable even if a blade struck, had to pause her breath at that single word.
The power-obsessed current queen and the deposed princess, daughter of the forr queen.
Though now impossible to live under the sa sky, once they had been different.
Though not blood-related, the voice stirred longings from a ti when they were close.
To hide this, Celested had to give a cold, ruthless answer. Even if she was playing into the queen’s intentions, it was unavoidable.
“Having severed all ties, do you still suspect, Your Majesty?”
“Ah, yes. The viscount Gillette you so cherish is confined inside the townhouse by a ban on contact, is he not?”
“That is correct.”
“But the viscount is so resourceful. In truth, the only one benefiting from those rumors is yourself.”
—Prince Reminic will return to the capital.
Since it was a prophecy from the Black Prophet, its impact was enormous. Testimonies from nobles who experienced his power firsthand further increased the prophecy’s credibility.
“Perhaps it is Prince Reminic himself.”
“To believe such nonsense disappoints . Haven’t you seen countless frauds before?”
“This prophet seems different. He’s been cross-verified by the Information Guild; he seems genuine.”
“That part is quite impressive. How that Black Prophet tricked the Information Guild rivals the resourcefulness of Viscount Gillette. But...”
The queen’s calm expression cracked for the first ti. Through it spilled a deep-seated suffering that could no longer be contained.
“Reminic was a gentle child. If he were alive, wouldn’t he have appeared to stop his mother becoming the power-mad, ugly woman she is now?”
“......”
“If he were alive.”
Each syllable she uttered dripped with bitterness like blood.
Like a ruler, the queen never showed a disordered face for long.
“In one week, the palace and capital have fallen into chaos—all from a single baseless rumor from a foreign man of uncertain origin.”
“What will you do?”
“You ask the obvious, Celested.”
The watery eyes that had seed so mournful turned icy.
“As regent, I cannot tolerate those who sow discord. The rebellious foreigner will be punished and hanged at the city gates.”
“......”
“So if anyone is connected to you, speak now. I’ll send you a severed head or what remains.”
“There is no need.”
“Is that so? I heard the man is quite handso and thought he might be your consort.”
“An absurd misunderstanding, but if it comforts you to think so, do as you please, Your Majesty.”
“Yes. I will send the remains. Even without a face, I’m sure you’ll recognize them.”
No matter how much Celested distanced herself, the queen would not cease suspecting her involvent in the recent prophetic scandal.
At tis like this, it was better to change the subject. Conveniently, Celested had a question.
“Then why not act against the Black Prophet imdiately? Wouldn’t arresting and punishing him calm the situation?”
“There is sothing intriguing.”
“......Intriguing? What do you an?”
The queen’s face softened pleasantly for the first ti in a while, as if having found so small enjoynt.
“Recently, I learned of a proposal my son made to the Black Prophet. It was quite surprising. So before dealing with the prophet...”
“......”
“I thought I might et the prophet’s assistant.”
Though a scher, her beautiful face wore a smile like a blooming flower.
“I expect there’s much to discuss between two won. I’ll write an invitation.”
✠
Since eting Hadeil and Rigares one after another a week ago at the palace, Reid had been going out frequently.
He was often with , but increasingly he claid he needed to handle botherso matters alone and went out by himself.
Today, too, after lunch, Reid said he had tasks to carry out for step three of the kingdom conquest plan.
I told him I would stay to prepare the potions and food I had consud so far and saw him off.
“You’re quite diligent. Not everyone can be the final mastermind.”
Just joking.
I lowered my eyes bitterly.
“The palace holds many traumas for Reid. Our last visit stirred them up perfectly... He probably needs so ti alone.”
If sighs drained the potency from my recovery potions, their effect would wane. I swallowed a gloomy breath and stirred the cauldron.
Now that the plan had advanced to step three, I had to tell Agnes about Reid’s ties to the Winchester royal family.
The tragic prince who had been loved «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» by all at court since childhood but was kidnapped by zealots and went missing.
The cause of Rigares’s lifelong guilt for surviving alone and his burning hatred toward the church.
The pure, delicate woman who went mad with grief at losing her son and beca the rciless iron queen.
At the center of it all were Prince Reminic Schuhail Winchester and Tesilid Arzent—the sa person.
But the original novel never revealed the truth to the protagonist, and had sharply opposed Reid against Rigares and Queen Raviosa, leaving the returning ti traveler terrible mories in countless tilines.
Especially Rigares, who tried to kill Tesilid Arzent every ti, for whatever reason.
So much so that the brutal, inexplicable hatred and murderous intent that made Tesilid numb were greatly shaped by his palace experiences.
“That’s right.”
[‘The Cliché Gourt’ praises the original work.]
Apparently, this new god has a taste for ssy dramas.
Anyway, that’s why Tesilid Arzent hated the palace. To set foot in it, to stay, to breathe—it was all sothing to endure.
And that trauma seed to remain even now that he had fallen and was called Reid.
“Yes.”
The Reid of the 101st cycle after 100 repetitions seed to know enough. Perhaps because ‘I’ in the previous tiline caused a stir in the kingdom and news reached him.
‘He probably knows not only the secret of his birth but also who masterminded the kidnapping.’
I ended up sighing into the potions.
“So originally, even for Reid’s sake, I didn’t want to be deeply involved in kingdom politics. I planned to put Princess Celested on the throne, negotiate nominal legislative rights, then hand off the botherso main governance and leave...”
“Yes.”
If it were during my saintly knight days, tested to the extre for patience and restraint, maybe I could tolerate Rigares. But now that I am the final mastermind, there was no reason to endure him.
Maybe I had just held it in for a thousand years until it burst.
“Well, step two was nominally prepared only as a ‘possible thod’...”
Power usually passes to offspring or spouse. Embarrassed to say, I opened my mouth.
“Reid or I marry into the royal family and beco regents.”
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