Chapter 179
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 179
Meanwhile, in a vast, dark room.
The room was spacious, but the decor was peculiar. The walls were entirely draped in dark black silk, and hundreds of small stars made of pure gold hung from the ceiling.
In one light, they looked like a mobile designed to catch an infant’s eye; in another, they resembled a night sky filled with stars that would never fade.
And in the center of it all.
"Hng..."
A woman sitting upon a massive throne suddenly curled her fingertips. From a fresh scratch on her porcelain-white finger, blood began to flow.
If there was one thing that distinguished her blood from that of ordinary people, it was that it was excessively dark—so dark it looked like black ink with only a hint of crimson.
"Saintess."
The man kneeling before her spoke in a worried voice.
His face was hidden deep beneath a hood, but his robe bore a strange resemblance to the clerical vestments of the Temple.
The woman called 'Saintess' pulled the corners of her red lips upward and pressed the finger leaking black blood into her mouth. The flow didn't stop; it continued to seep out, trickling slowly down her chin.
After a moment passed.
"I am fine."
Her voice was languid yet eerie.
At first listen, it was as clear and seductive as night dew, but there was a strange resonance to it—an unsettling afterimage that felt like fingernails scraping against a chalkboard.
The woman was also shrouded in a robe identical to the kneeling man’s, leaving nothing visible but her pale fingers and blood-red lips.
With the haughty grace of a cat prowling at night, she pulled her finger from her mouth and gazed up at the ceiling.
A ceiling of pure black.
Beneath it, countless stars hung like a galaxy. The dozens, hundreds of stars crafted from pure gold boasted a brilliant radiance all their own.
Yet, among those many lights, not one was a 'real' star.
The real star they desired was still hovering over someone else’s head.
However.
"They will all be torn to pieces this time anyway."
Her plump, blood-stained lips curved into an alluring arc.
"In the end, victory will be ours. Hasn't it always been that way?"
The man, prostrate on the floor, trembled. His face was filled with nothing but ecstasy, like a priest hearing the voice of God for the first time.
"The Saintess is correct."
"Yes."
She looked down at her finger, where the bleeding had already stopped. Then, she pushed back the long, flowing sleeve covering the back of her hand.
Her arms were long and slender, but they were covered in jagged scars so gruesome they would make even a butcher wince.
They were marks strikingly similar to the scratch that had just appeared on her finger. Dark red blood remained in each scar like a shadow, creating a bleak contrast against her white skin.
The woman slowly stroked the wounds and whispered.
"They shall be granted no more regressions."
* * *
Sophia Frezier watched Dave, who was escorting her, with a coy gaze.
He wasn't bad.
To be honest, he was quite decent.
His face, of course, paled in comparison to the special guests who had just arrived, but he had inherited enough of Empress Carmi’s beauty to be reasonably easy on the eyes.
And above all, he was a prince.
She had lived her entire life harboring an inferiority complex regarding her status.
Sophia’s longing for high rank and noble blood was far deeper than Tulia vaguely suspected.
Even at the Academy, she wouldn't spare a glance for a low-ranking young lord. To Sophia, who simply wanted to climb higher, the Second Imperial Prince, Dave, was a more attractive prospect than she had expected.
Anyway, I’d hate that crippled monster even if he were the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince couldn't even grow properly, yet his gaze was always chilling and cold. It was like ice frozen by a flame.
Sophia hated that look of Ferdinand’s as well.
Because the dignity unique to the Imperial family that radiated from that chill served only to remind her of her true status—that she was 'merely the daughter of a vassal.'
She had received a notice of annulment after being caught badmouthing the Crown Prince, but Sophia actually thought it was for the best.
She had trembled for the first few days, but since the Imperial Knights never came to arrest her for the crime of insulting the Imperial family, she gradually relaxed.
That’s right. I’m not so lacking that I have to marry a cripple like that. I technically carry the Frezier name, too.
If that Crown Prince had any conscience, shouldn't he pick a woman beneath him, like a baron’s daughter?
When Dave looked over as if sensing Sophia’s gaze, she gave him a bright smile.
For a split second, Dave looked dazed. It was a pity he snapped out of it so quickly, but Sophia was nothing if not diligent.
"It is an infinite honor to share the first dance with Your Highness, the Second Prince."
She added in a low voice.
"And it makes me quite happy."
Dave’s ears perked up instantly. He had clearly understood her suggestive remark.
"Lady Sophia."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"If Brother Ferdinand’s health had been better, you would have naturally danced with him today. Do you not find it regrettable?"
Sophia wore an elegant yet shy smile.
"To be honest..."
It is a bit regrettable, but isn't it a god-given stroke of luck that I get to dance with a prince as wonderful as you?
She was about to deliver a variation of the lines she had used countless times at the Academy when—
"The Crow—"
Her mouth slowly clicked shut.
By sheer coincidence, her eyes, which had drifted toward the ceiling for a moment, froze upon seeing a man walking slowly down the stairs, step by step.
Almost simultaneously.
"His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince, is entering!"
An unbelievable announcement left Sophia frozen in place.
* * *
In The Milk Bread, two conditions are required for Ferdinand to overcome Cupid's Disease and grow into an adult.
One: fall in love.
Two: desire power.
If he achieves even one of these, Ferdinand will, for the time being, grow.
Meaning, he regains his original form.
To put it another way, while the boyish Ferdinand tries to maintain his position as Crown Prince due to the blood-curdling obsession of his late mother, Empress Olivia...
In reality, he considers that position meaningless.
A Crown Prince for whom everything is futile, living only because of the command of someone who has already returned to the earth.
That was the setting for Ferdinand Cassel Ewigkeit.
I stared at him, stunned by his sudden growth.
Why did he suddenly grow up?
In The Milk Bread, he naturally grows if you pursue him as Corico, but Corico hasn't appeared yet.
Wait, Corico hasn't already shown up behind the scenes, has she?
No way.
No... way...
Suddenly, I felt uneasy.
I looked up. I prayed silently to the star that was sparkling today, looking a bit larger than usual.
Kim Ddong-byul. I’m trusting you, okay?
I don't want a plot twist like that.
I don't even have many coins right now.
Could he have fallen in love with me?
...That thought was quickly discarded when I saw Ferdinand didn't spare me even a glance.
Right, that was a bit too narcissistic of me.
He isn't called the Ice Prince for nothing.
Then it must be a desire for power.
Why would Ferdinand suddenly want power?
If Dave provoked him again and he finally snapped, it’s possible.
Anyway.
Just in case, I was busy making plans in my head to meet Ramus Jeremiah and have him investigate if Corico and Ferdinand had met, when—
Beneath the winding bronze poles, the chandelier with its thousands of sparkling crystal beads drew sharp lines of light and shadow.
Thanks to the beautiful chandelier, my vision had been bright this whole time.
I truly didn't expect a large shadow to fall over me.
I looked up and almost stumbled backward.
"Lady Tulia Frezier."
Hair the color of cocoa.
Eyes I once thought looked like strawberry jam.
A man so tall I now had to crane my neck to look at him—Ferdinand—was reaching out to me.
"Grant me the first dance."
* * *
Carmi almost bolted upright from her seat.
If it weren't for the composure she had honed over decades, she really would have jumped up and screamed.
She barely managed to suck in a breath and smooth over her expression before it crumbled.
"Your Majesty. Ferdinand...?"
"...I do not know either."
Emperor Alexander was also frowning deeply.
Just a moment ago.
A priest from the Crown Prince's Palace had hurriedly sent word that Ferdinand had been liberated from his Divine Power Hyperaffliction. That was the news the Chief Attendant had just frantically delivered.
Carmi felt somewhat relieved to realize that Emperor Alexander 'truly' hadn't known.
However.
"...So that is what he would have looked like had he grown naturally."
At the Emperor’s low murmur, Carmi’s heart nearly stopped.
She stared at Ferdinand with eyes that were on the verge of becoming bloodshot.
Every noble, every foreign royal, every dignitary from every nation.
Everyone was staring blankly at Ferdinand as if they were witnessing a god descending from the heavens.
Just like the Emperor sitting beside her.
Ferdinand, who had grown up as if by magic, bore an overwhelming resemblance to the deceased Empress, Olivia.
No.
With bloodshot eyes, Carmi rose from her seat.
She began to walk toward the Crown Prince. Toward that damn cripple who had grown up with such terrifying perfection.