Chapter 147
Chapter 147
Translation: godsn
Alpha and Zeta had originally been under Marquis Reniar's command.
Reniar was the father of the late empress and currently served as the central figure of the First Prince's faction within the Kazen Empire.
Once Cesare died, everything that had transpired in Valdina would reach the Marquis's ears.
'If it's Reniar, he'll undoubtedly try to eliminate her.'
The Marquis was someone who had protected Cesare through all manner of imperial interference and sabotage.
He had supported Cesare despite his unclear status and precarious position, believing him to be the one fit to lead the Empire.
Precisely because he was a man who acted for the Empire's sake, once he learned of Medeia's capabilities, he would go beyond mere wariness—he would surely attempt to eliminate her.
"Cesare, this could endanger the Empire. Who could possibly stand against the Princess of Valdina when we're completely unprepared?"
Terence warned. He had already witnessed the princess's prowess firsthand—both with his eyes and his body.
The Regent and the diplomatic mission had danced upon the chessboard she had crafted from the shadows. The Empire would be no exception.
His concern was justified.
This was truly unlike Cesare. To leave scattered dangers unchecked for the sake of a foreign princess.
"So?"
Cesare asked in return.
"I'm already a dead man. So Kazen should face the princess without relying on the help of someone they've already cast aside. That's only fair."
Had he broken the curse? Had he reclaimed his life? Did he even have any passion left to dedicate to this country?
Kazen. The Empire. The Imperial Throne.
He felt the fading hues of everything that had once sustained him.
The ephemeral flames of desire were flickering out.
A void similar to what Kensington had felt now bloomed within Cesare's heart—only his was darker, deeper.
"Terence, answer me. Do I have anything left to offer His Majesty?"
"......"
"It's just a temporary distraction. She won't stop, no matter what."
Nothing would change even if he disappeared.
Medeia's blade, which would soon strike down Iason, would inevitably turn toward the Empire.
Though he couldn't fathom the reason—as if she bore some age-old grudge against him—she would surely tighten the noose around her enemies' necks as meticulously as she did now.
It was absurd, but he felt a pang of regret that he wouldn't be able to witness that spectacle.
'Did I just want to see how far she could go?'
For the first time, he felt a sense of kinship with another.
He had never imagined he would find someone in this distant land of Valdina who shared his vision, his perspective.
That must be why the princess—why that small girl's presence refused to fade. Even on this final page of his life.
That day, he recalled Medeia collapsing into her brother's arms, weeping.
A pointless sense of rivalry stirred in him. He even felt the urge to reveal himself before the princess, as if to say she had chosen the wrong embrace.
Blocking her descending blade, gripping her shoulder—none of that would ever be his to claim now.
Yet, an unavoidable bitterness lingered on his tongue.
He wanted to watch her.
He wanted to stand within Medeia's vision and see how far she could go.
Was it because he knew he couldn't that he couldn't let go? Where did this inexplicable obsession, this inability to shake free, come from?
A feeling veiled by death, destined to fade into obscurity, clung stubbornly to Cesare's ankles.
Torn fragments of the letter fluttered down like petals from his elegant fingertips.
"If you refuse to heed my orders, return to your former master."
"Our only master is Your Highness!"
Alpha shook his head vehemently.
"Then do not forget my will."
Cesare's languid authority made it clear he would tolerate no further overreach.
His will.
Alpha flinched. The realization that his lord—once an immovable mountain—was truly preparing for his end struck him like a physical blow.
"......Understood. We shall obey."
The subordinates withdrew. Cesare gazed out the window.
As if mocking his efforts to prepare for an immaculate, dignified end, the sky outside was dark and heavy.
Valdina's prison.
The damp, musty prison cell reeked of mildew. A faint, wet chewing sound echoed through the space.
"Is this all you've got?"
Samon sifted through the basket of medicine and bread Mariyu had brought, his voice dripping with irritation.
"I'm sorry. Ever since we got caught last time, the head chef has become unbearably strict..."
Mariyu watched Samon wolf down the bread with a motherly concern.
"You'll choke. Drink this too, darling."
Gulp, gulp. The sweet fruit juice trickled messily down Samon's greedy mouth.
Normally, he wouldn't have spared a glance at such cheap swill, but now it tasted sweeter than the nectar of the gods.
"Damn it, I've been starving for three days straight. Three days!"
Even as he stuffed his face, his stomach roared like thunder, screaming for more.
Hard-as-stone black bread and watery oat porridge had become luxuries—for the past four days, Samon had endured hunger so sharp it felt like claws raking his guts.
The Fourth Imperial Princess, furious at his schemes, had blocked all rations to his cell.
Since tormenting the traitorous Duke Claudio's household was the goal, the guards turned a blind eye to her cruelty, never reporting it to their superiors.
My poor love—a royal-blooded man treated like this!
Unaware of the truth, Mariyu's heart ached at Samon's skeletal pallor.
"Before the execution... I'll find a way to bring you some meat."
She reached through the bars, tenderly wiping juice and crumbs from Samon's lips.
The rebels' execution date loomed closer.
After the fall of Duke Claudio's house, Mariyu had kept her head down, erasing her presence.
But with each passing day, her beloved's life hung by a thread—she could no longer stand idle.
"Don't worry, darling. We'll find a way to avoid the execution."
Then, with sudden resolve, Mariyu spoke firmly.
"Our child will save his father."
"...What?"
Samon's head jerked up, ears doubting what they'd heard. His hand, still shoving bread into his mouth, froze.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Mariyu nodded, as if she'd expected his shock.
"Yes, I have a plan. I've made contact with a Queen Dowager's Palace attendant—soon, I'll meet Her Majesty—"
"No! Not that!"
Samon thrashed in frustration, his arm shooting through the bars to seize Mariyu's wrist.
"A child?! What do you mean?!"
He trapped both her wrists, shaking her violently, his voice a furious growl.
Mariyu instinctively flinched at the blazing fury in her lover's eyes.
"Th-the physician confirmed it. I'm with child."
She twisted free, cradling her stomach as she answered.
"Your bloodline—Duke Claudio's blood—is inside me now."
"......"
"Aren't you happy, Samon? If the Queen Dowager learns of this child, she can't possibly turn her back on you."
When no reply came, Mariyu pressed on desperately.
"The royal family values heirs, doesn't it? This would be Her Majesty's first grandchild. If we just survive, we can raise our child in peace and plot our revenge later."
Cunning and terror mingled in her eyes. Though terrified of Medeia, she pinned her hopes on the Queen Dowager's mercy.
Apart from Medeia and her siblings, the royal bloodline was nearly extinct.
No matter how grave Regent's treason was, wasn't he still the Queen Dowager's own flesh and blood?
If she knew her grandchild lived, her frozen heart would surely thaw. What parent wouldn't want their lineage to endure?
Mariyu was certain of it.
"...Samon?"
But his reaction left her bewildered.
She'd expected him to rejoice at this lifeline—yet his silence was deafening.
An icy draft seeped through the cell, biting at her cheeks.
Mariyu faltered as Samon's face twisted.