Chapter 113
Chapter 113
Translation: godsn
The Fourth Imperial Princess swallowed her shock at Medeia's words.
Sardegna Island. This small island along Kazen's southern coast bordering Valdina had been a gift from her maternal grandfather, the East Marquis, for her fifteenth birthday.
Though modest in size, Sardegna was quite the prize—it housed iron mines capable of producing their own ironware.
After a moment's hesitation, the Fourth Princess shook her head. She had weighed the island's value against the gravity of the current situation in her mind.
"...That's impossible."
"......"
"Name something else. Within my power... I'll grant whatever I can..."
Her voice gradually shrank under Medeia's unwavering gaze.
"Fourth Princess, did my words sound like a request to you?"
"......"
"I forgave you for trying to kill me. I turned a blind eye to your crimes. I even showed you how to clear your name. And telling you who's targeting you—well, consider that a bonus."
The Fourth Princess flinched.
"By any measure, I don't think I'm asking for too much."
Emerald eyes glared at her coldly.
Silence fell.
A suffocating pressure, thick enough to crush a person. She felt as though she'd been trapped in the coils of a serpent, its body constricting around hers, sending shivers crawling up her spine.
"......"
Unconsciously, the Fourth Princess averted her gaze.
Some time later.
"Then take your leave, Fourth Princess."
Biting her lip at Medeia's gracious dismissal, the Fourth Princess walked out. Only when she was well out of sight of the princess's palace did she tear off all the jewelry adorning her body and hurl it away.
"Gaaah! Damn Valdina! I shouldn't have come here!"
"I never thought Her Highness would hand it over so easily."
Neril stared down at the deed transferring Sardegna Island, stamped with the Fourth Princess's seal.
"She must have thought it better than getting stabbed in the back by Empress Seo."
But there was one fact the Fourth Princess didn't know.
'Sardegna is a golden island with vast deposits of mithril.'
That truth wouldn't come to light until after the Fourth Princess lost the imperial power struggle and the East Marquis passed away from illness.
By then, however, Iason would already be emperor, and the immense wealth from Sardegna's mithril would flow straight into his coffers.
Medeia had no intention of handing over anything that might fatten Iason's belly.
"But for her to walk away like this... It's infuriating. She clearly targeted Your Highness, yet instead of punishment... she gets to leave with her life."
"Don't worry. Angelique won't get off unscathed."
Mithril was a heaven-sent resource that couldn't simply be bought with money.
No matter how much Perdiccas II doted on his daughter, he would never forgive the person who gave Valdina—now soaring high—the wings to fly.
By the time the Fourth Princess realized she'd been tricked by Medeia, she'd probably want to tear her to shreds.
"But I wouldn't trade the life of someone who tried to kill me for just one island."
Medeia had plans to deliver an even greater despair to the Fourth Princess.
Her monotone voice held not a shred of sympathy.
"By the way, Grand Duke Castulo is far more sinister than he appears."
Neril seethed. As a knight, she despised those who schemed for their own gain at others' expense.
"Are you saying he deliberately feigned ignorance to protect his own interests, even though he knew of the danger to Your Highness?"
She recalled the detestable Grand Duke, who had worn the most sincere expression of concern for the princess in the assembly hall.
'And he calls himself human. Disgusting.'
Medeia leaned back in her chair with a weary expression.
The argument with the Fourth Princess, coupled with the flood of memories from her past life surging deeper than usual today, had left her utterly drained.
'At any rate, returning through the Magic Tower means neither the Princess nor Iason can find any grounds to interfere.'
Thoughts tangled one after another in her mind.
The Magic Tower. Iason. And Facade...
Medeia, who had briefly closed her eyes, soon opened them again.
"Zeta, tell your master that I wish to see him."
"......"
No response came. When Medeia looked at Zeta, the usually composed woman appeared uncharacteristically flustered.
"What's the matter?"
"Well......"
It suddenly struck Medeia that she hadn't seen any of Facade's mercenaries since her return. Even Gallo, who had consistently appeared at palace events, had become a rare sight these days.
"The leader... isn't currently in Valdina," Zeta finally answered hesitantly.
She couldn't bring herself to mention that after returning to the royal castle, Cesare's condition had deteriorated drastically.
"This can't go on any longer. Your condition is too severe. We must go to the Master."
"Don't fuss so, Terence."
When even Terence could do nothing more, they had hurriedly departed for the Magic Tower.
"Zeta, say nothing to the Princess of Valdina. Continue as you have—like a shadow."
Zeta agonized over her dilemma. She couldn't disobey her lord's command, yet she wasn't certain whether maintaining this silence was right.
"Lord Acares... left Valdina some time ago," Zeta added, carefully staying within the bounds of her orders without outright defiance.
Left? Medeia stiffened slightly.
The image of the mercenary flashed through her mind—his lazy smile. She knew he was capricious by nature, and as a weapon merchant, it was only natural he'd wander between nations. Still, she hadn't expected him to leave so abruptly without even a farewell.
"...Will he return?"
At Medeia's question, Zeta thought of her lord's condition. For him to return to Valdina, there would need to be some sign of recovery—but in his current state...
A complicated swirl of emotions churned within her.
"...Forgive me, Your Highness. I can say no more."
Reading the distress in Zeta's expression, Medeia nodded in understanding and dismissed her.
"......"
Medeia set down the object she'd been fidgeting with onto the table.
Two small cylindrical containers—one engraved with a goddess at the top and water droplets at the bottom, the other its mirror image.
'When I found these, I had replicas made just in case. I had a feeling someone would eventually try to get their hands on these sacred relics.'
One contained the Tears of Dawn she'd obtained from the Philosopher's Stone. The other was an exquisitely crafted replica, indistinguishable at a glance from the real thing.
'I'd hoped to establish a connection with the First Prince through Facade rather than the Magic Tower, but...'
Now that he was gone, that path had grown distant.
Opening a small drawer, Medeia placed one cylinder inside.
'...So you were the type to leave as silently as the wind, without a word.'
A strange, hollow feeling unsettled Medeia. Had she grown... attached to that unruly mercenary?
Memories surfaced—the deepening night, the forest heavy with the scent of grass, the crackling of firewood and the warmth of the campfire. That brief taste of tranquil peace she'd experienced that day.
Medeia quickly shook her head.
'How full you've grown. To even have the luxury of such pointless thoughts.'
In this second life composed mostly of experiences she already knew, Medeia had learned something new for the first time:
That comfort made her weak.
'I don't need this. I won't hope for it.'
The blade she would drive into her enemies must always remain honed to razor sharpness.
Emerging from her thoughts, Medeia lifted her head.
"Neril, what of the task I entrusted to you?"
Neril approached and reported in a hushed tone, "Some time ago, you instructed me to monitor those whose signatures were on the document. They are returning to the capital."
"Oh?"
Medeia raised her head, her gaze fixed on the castle walls beyond the window.
Her emerald eyes gleamed with sudden intensity, as if ignited by some unseen spark.
"Neril, it seems I must make a brief excursion outside the royal castle."