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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please ‌read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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Chapter 41
The Crown Prince's thick neck flushed crimson, the veins ‌‌‌bulging prominently beneath his skin.
As if he might throw a punch at any moment, Edrick positioned himself directly beside Talia. It wasn't only he who sensed the danger—Barcas, who had been standing silently like a shadow, slipped between ‌them. ‌‌‌‌
"The schedule has fallen considerably behind. Shall we proceed with the ceremony now?"
The Second Princess, who had momentarily stiffened, turned her gaze toward Count Sierchan.
Though it lasted ‌‌only an instant, Edrick, whose every nerve was stretched taut, could discern how her body went rigid with tension. Even ‌‌‌this reckless woman understood that when Count Sierchan turned serious, one had to exercise restraint.
She clamped her mouth shut and looked away. The Crown Prince, who had seemed ready to explode moments before, gritted his teeth and returned to stand before the Altar.
As ‌‌‌‌the situation appeared to settle, the High Priest, who ‌‌‌‌had been hunching his neck like a ‌‌turtle and watching for an opening, cleared his throat and resumed the ceremony.
Edrick stood at a distance, observing as the three ‌‌members of the Imperial ‌‌Family received the blessing prayers in turn.
When the Crown Prince stepped forward to the Altar first and bowed ‌‌his head, the High Priest lifted a silver chalice and ‌poured holy water over it, then intoned words of blessing in an ancient tongue.
Next came the First Princess and Count Sierchan, who would become her husband, approaching the Altar, and finally Talia bowed before the priest.
Edrick gazed at Talia, who kept her eyes downcast, as if looking ‌‌‌upon a stranger.
As the light from hundreds of candles cast a mysterious radiance upon her tawny-golden hair and pale skin, she appeared to exist in another dimension entirely.
While he stared at her in a daze, ‌‌the priest poured holy water over her head as well.
The transparent stream of water dampened her hair like golden thread, trickling down her smooth forehead and cheek, along her straight nose, and gathering at the tip of her chin.
The priest raised his hand above her head and poured forth his divine power.
"May the grace of the Divine be with you eternally...."
The ‌‌‌prayer, which seemed as though it would never end, finally ceased.
When the priest rang the silver bell, the Crown Prince rose first and strode across the congregation.
As the First Princess and Count Sierchan followed, Talia Roem Guerta slowly straightened ‌‌‌‌herself. Then, lifting her chin high, she crossed the congregation with regal, commanding strides.
Everyone found themselves unable to tear ‌their ‌gaze from her composed bearing.
The embodiment of discord. An unsettling and ominous presence.
As if they were only now realizing, for the first time, that the woman they had always regarded as such was, in fact, a princess of The Empire....
* * *
As the altitude rose sharply, the air that had been hot as boiling water grew cool and refreshing.
Drawing in the dry, cool air, I gazed out the window at the sky ‌‌‌where the sun was sinking.
A deep blue night was creeping in from the east. Another day would end without incident.
My throat burned ‌as if I had swallowed a ball of fire.
I opened the storage compartment attached to the corner of the carriage and retrieved the small silver knife I had brought from the Monastery. The pale, gleaming blade seemed to speak to me, saying it had grown weary of waiting.
After tucking it ‌‌into my pocket and carefully descending from the carriage, the bustling scene of the Campsite came into full view.
I pulled the hood attached to my gown over my head and carefully surveyed my surroundings. It appeared they were holding a grand feast to lift Gareth's poor spirits.
The servants hurried back and forth between tents more busily than ever, carrying wine and food, and several soldiers were already quite drunk.
I touched ‌‌‌the blade in my pocket and moistened my parched lips. I welcomed the chaotic atmosphere. It would ‌‌‌make my ‌‌task easier. I carefully crossed the Campsite.
Then, a Guard Knight who spotted me came rushing over with delight.
"Your Highness!"
I ‌‌‌furrowed ‌‌‌my brow.
Why was this man so persistently wagging his tail at me? His disarmingly friendly demeanor was beginning to irritate me.
I glared at his harmless face with contempt, let out a loud scoff, and brushed ‌‌past him. Yet even my cold response failed to discourage ‌‌‌the man.
"You must have been quite frustrated, haven't you? Come this way, ‌please. The servants have prepared food. If you observe the cooking process, you can be assured of safety, can't you?"
I ignored the knight's ‌‌‌‌incessant chatter and turned ‍‌‌my steps toward where the sound of music was coming from.
It wasn't long before I discovered Gareth enjoying a lavish feast before a ‌‌tent with a fire blazing in ‌‌‌front of it.
I came to a ‌‌halt at some distance ‌‌‌away. The Crown Prince's attendants were sparing no ‌effort to lift his sullen mood as ‌‌‌‌he tilted his cup with a gloomy expression. While Attendants dressed in ridiculous jester costumes performed tricks with daggers, musicians played sticky melodies suited to his taste, and several Handmaids flirted shamelessly under the pretense of serving him. As I watched the ‌‌spectacle with barely concealed contempt, a Guard Knight stepped into my path.
"It would be best if you went in another direction."
I looked up at his serious face quietly. He had worn that same expression at the Temple too, standing beside me as though he were protecting me from danger. ‌‌
I let out a silent snort. As if I would fall for that.
"Don't meddle where you're not wanted."
I replied coldly and changed direction, walking toward the tents lined up near the Riverbank.
My true target had never been Gareth. ‌‌I made an effort to appear as natural as possible while searching for Ayla's camp, scanning the area with my eyes. Soon enough, I spotted my ‌‌‌half-sister enjoying a meal surrounded by a group of Handmaids.
I fell ‌‌into a moment of contemplation.
Knights were scattered ‌‌all around Ayla. To them, I was a person ‌of concern, so if ‌‌I tried to approach carelessly, I would be stopped immediately.
I bit my lip anxiously.
How could I approach my half-sister without arousing suspicion?
While I was lost in such deliberation, the Guard Knight who had been talking incessantly suddenly fell silent.
I ‌‌‌‌‌glanced up. The man ‌‌‌‌was looking down at me with eyes full of doubt. It seemed he had sensed something unusual about my behavior.
I forced myself to appear composed and sat down at a nearby dining table. Then, ‌‌‌to divert his attention, I blurted out abruptly.
"I'm hungry. Bring me ‌‌‌‌‌something to eat."
The Knight's face brightened immediately at those words. He was absurdly ‌‌simple-minded.
"Just a moment, please! I'll prepare it right away."
Once the bothersome watchdog disappeared, ‌‌I rolled my eyes beneath the hood I had pulled down low and observed Ayla's movements again. She was laughing continuously at the Handmaids' jokes.
Could I really end that insufferable woman's ‌‌‌‌life?
My mouth had gone dry. Perhaps before I could even make a proper attempt, the Knight would notice something suspicious and subdue me. Then this couldn't be dismissed as a mere prank.
I fingered the blade I had hidden in my pocket and seriously considered whether this deed was truly worth sacrificing my ‌‌‌life for.
Even if Ayla disappeared from this world, it would not result in me obtaining Barcas. He would continue living his life as always, and I would become nothing but dew on the scaffold, vanishing without a trace. The only thing ‌‌‌I could gain from the consequences of this foolish act was a miserable death.
'And yet....'
Would watching Barcas become Ayla's husband truly ‌‌be better than death?
While ‌‌‌Ayla, as the Grand Duchess of Sierchan, bore and raised his heir, I would wither away in excruciating agony.
Perhaps I would even be forced into marriage with a man Senebier had chosen. If that happened, I would not be able to endure the vile touch of that vile, filthy man and would end up hanging myself. No, I was certain that's exactly what would happen.
Whether I die this way or that way, I am ‌destined to die regardless. Perhaps it would be cleaner to end things today, taking Ayla with me as my companion.
Finally, my resolve hardened, and I rose from my seat. ‌‌‌‌I tried to approach Ayla as naturally as possible, when suddenly a familiar silhouette caught my eye.
'That woman....'

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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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