Chapter 92
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 92
Me, murdering Father? Execution? If so… will I be cut down in a single blow, just like that maid?
"This is insane… Tenebrae, I didn't do it! I didn't kill Father! There's no way I would!"
"I know. I believe you. This is all Lady Rohanson's doing. She must have deceived Her Majesty the Emperor, just as she deceived Sir Gabriel. Right now, Her Majesty is under a witch's spell and cannot think straight."
Jeremia had seen the summoning circle drawn on the banquet hall floor, so she knew all too well that dark sorcery was involved in her father's death. This only terrified her more. To think Lady Rohanson had killed her father and was now manipulating her grandmother… there was no way Jeremia, who had done nothing but grow up sheltered and loved, could possibly stand against her.
As Jeremia trembled in fear, a maid burst through the door in a panic.
"Lady Jeremia! The knights have entered the castle!"
"What do I do, Tenebrae? What… what do I do? Am I going to die like this, falsely accused?"
Overwhelmed by the injustice, Jeremia could only shed silent tears. Tenebrae firmly grabbed her sister's shoulders. Though the grip hurt, Jeremia couldn't bring herself to shake off the one person who felt like her only lifeline. Tenebrae stared straight into Jeremia's eyes and offered a solution.
"Run away, Jeremia."
Run away?
"But then I'd be disobeying Grandmother's orders."
"Her Majesty isn't in her right mind, is she? Run away first, then return once she regains her senses. Since she gave that order while possessed by a demon, she certainly won't punish you for disobeying it."
"Really?"
"Of course. Her Majesty dotes on you, after all."
Tenebrae offered a faint smile, and Jeremia awkwardly tried to mirror the expression on her twin's face. Somehow, it felt like a very long time since she had last seen Tenebrae smile. Normally, Jeremia was the one who smiled so naturally and brightly.
Beyond the brief silence, a chorus of heavy footsteps and low murmurs echoed from the hall. Realizing the knights were right outside, Jeremia turned pale.
"Th-they… I think they're here."
Tenebrae helped the trembling Jeremia to her feet.
"Go, Jeremia. I'll pretend to be you and buy some time."
"Tenebrae!"
"Shh."
Startled by her own loud voice, Jeremia quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. She slowly lowered it, her eyes filled with deep concern for her sister.
"But what if you get caught?"
"They'll realize I'm me soon enough, so don't worry. Don't worry about me. I'll have my guard accompany you, so escape with him."
Ever since rumors had spread that Jeremia had killed the Crown Prince, the timid princess had dismissed all her attendants, fearing her own vassals would suspect her. Tenebrae likely knew this and was providing her with a guard for that very reason. Soon, the knight who would escort Jeremia appeared.
"This is Sir Azazel Astaroth."
When Azazel bowed, Jeremia gave a startled jump and awkwardly returned the gesture.
"I shall escort you. We must hurry."
"Y-yes."
Before fleeing, Jeremia gave Tenebrae a tight, deeply moved hug. In truth, Jeremia had long believed Tenebrae disliked her. But they had grown much closer recently, and she had never expected her sister—whom she had always thought of as timid—to be so dependable.
"Thank you, Tenebrae."
After one final embrace, Jeremia followed Azazel's lead, slipping past the knights to escape the castle.
"Haha, no, thank you."
Tenebrae let out a cold chuckle as she watched them go. It was hilarious how Jeremia played the sweet, innocent sister right until the very end. She had no idea that Tenebrae didn't even have a proper knight, let alone a personal guard. If Jeremia had paid even a shred of attention to her twin, she would have realized how bizarre the phrase "Tenebrae's guard" was. Perhaps then she could have saved her own life.
A moment after the real Jeremia fled, the knights arrived, a step too late.
"Lady Jeremia!"
"What is all this commotion?" Tenebrae asked with a bright, blissfully ignorant face—the very look she had grown sick to death of seeing.
The knights hesitated, wondering if they should break the grim news to the innocent, fragile Jeremia that her sister had murdered their father. The leader of the group made a decision and changed the subject.
"Did Lady Tenebrae come by? Did she do anything terrible to you, my lady?"
"No, Tenebrae hasn't been here."
The knights believed Tenebrae's lie without a second thought and belatedly tried to station guards to protect her. A young knight who seemed to have a crush on Jeremia even offered a fawning promise to protect her at all costs.
Haha. She could barely hold back her laughter. They look identical, but she's so gloomy you can tell them apart even without the necklace? She barely suppressed the urge to sneer at them. They all acted as if they couldn't live without Jeremia, doting on her so lovingly, yet not a single one of them noticed she was a completely different person. What shallow, superficial affection.
* * *
Amidst the descending darkness, scattered lights drifted through the air like fireflies—the torches of the search party.
The crowd that usually guarded the dungeon had vanished. Most had been mobilized to search for the escaped Tenebrae, leaving very few guards behind. Antenor counted the remaining heads and suddenly spoke up.
"I'm going down to check on the basement. With all the noise outside, the prisoners might get restless."
Of course, it was merely an excuse to visit Evangeline. Hearing this, a fellow knight snorted.
"It's not even your shift. I guess lowborns really are built different. Even in a situation like this, is your only thought to wag your tail at the prisoners to squeeze some bribes out of them?"
He wasn't wrong. Even in this chaos, Antenor's first instinct was to grovel before Evangeline Rohanson. But after witnessing such overwhelming, miraculous power right before his eyes, who wouldn't submit? Especially when she was dangling the promise of his deepest desires right in front of him.
"I'll go with you."
"Polus!"
Just as a squabble was about to break out, Polus stepped in.
"I'll take good care of Ante, so what's there to worry about?"
Polus clapped Antenor roughly on the shoulder and pulled him along. The knight watching them smirked. He knew exactly what Polus meant by "taking care of" him. Go get beaten to a pulp down in the basement where no one can see you. Antenor had brought this entirely on himself.
"Right. If you're with him, I'm relieved. Antenor's leg is bad, so make sure to look after him."
No one pointed out that Polus was the very reason Antenor limped in the first place.
Polus led Antenor down to the basement. The knights guarding the dungeon looked puzzled to see the two return when their shift had already ended.
"Polus, why are you back?"
Antenor answered in his stead. "Tenebrae Reverdi, the assassin of His Highness the Crown Prince, has escaped. Her Majesty ordered her capture, so everyone is helping with the search."
"What?"
"So why don't you guys head up and join them? Catching Lady Tenebrae is bound to yield a massive reward. Opportunities like this don't come often."
"You're going to stand guard for us?"
They hesitated for a moment before readily agreeing. "Sure. Since Polus is here, it should be fine."
As soon as the knights left and the sound of their footsteps faded, Polus's body collapsed to the floor. Antenor flipped the corpse over with his foot. As if he had never been alive and speaking just moments ago, Polus's body moved limply under the cripple's weak kick.
"Why? Is it fascinating?"
A voice whispered right next to his ear, sending goosebumps down his spine. As Antenor spun around in shock, a man giggled as if he had just witnessed an amusing little trick.
"I don't blame you. I'm probably the only one who can manipulate a corpse this delicately."
With a flick of the man's finger, Polus stood back up. Unlike before, the corpse was merely suspended in the air, a grotesque puppet hanging from invisible strings.
"Flauros snapped his neck, so it's a bit tricky to move. Honestly, why couldn't he just slice it cleanly like I do?"
"Who are you…?" Antenor asked, wary of the stranger. Had a prisoner escaped during the commotion? But as far as he could remember, he had never seen this man in the dungeon.
"Me? I'm Jelly."
Andras shared his name, thoroughly enjoying the guard's terror.
"Are you… perhaps employed by Lady Rohanson?"
"You could say that," the man grinned broadly, baring his teeth.
Indeed, who else but Evangeline Rohanson could command such a monster? Jelly tossed Polus's corpse back onto the floor and dragged Antenor toward Evangeline's cell.
"Something fun must have happened. And you've come to report it to the Master."
"Y-yes."
"So obedient and admirable."
Letting the empty praise slide in one ear and out the other, Antenor grabbed the key hanging on the wall and unlocked the cell door. At the screech of metal, Evangeline Rohanson shifted her eyes from the book she was reading to look at him. It was eerie, like watching the eyes of a painted portrait suddenly move. The sight was ominous and terrifying, but with Jelly's immense presence pressing down on him from behind, he couldn't even think of running.
Upon seeing Antenor, Evangeline closed her book and stood. Her exceptionally long dress dragged along the floor as she approached. Though the fabric rustled, there was, strangely, no sound of footsteps.
As Evangeline leaned down to meet his gaze, long, slender strands of hair spilled over her shoulders. Only when she was right in front of him did Antenor belatedly realize he was collapsed on his knees. He hadn't even noticed when his legs had given out.