Chapter 152
Chapter 152
Translation: godsn
Perhaps she had put too little force into wielding the whip.
The Fourth Imperial Princess staggered, pressing a hand to her forehead as waves of nausea washed over her.
"What are you doing? Why haven't you served Her Highness her tea yet!"
The princess's handmaid shot Virna a sharp glare.
"Y-yes......"
Biting her lip, Virna awkwardly brought the tea and offered it to the princess—only to have the Fourth Imperial Princess immediately throw the contents in her face.
"It's gone cold and reeks of fish! You drink this swill yourself!"
The Fourth Imperial Princess showed no signs of stopping.
As if she intended to pour out all her fury upon hearing the name "Claudio."
"Are you just going to stand there like an idiot? Can't you see the sunlight here? Bring me a parasol!"
The Fourth Imperial Princess vented her irritation without restraint. Flustered, Virna endured her hysterics.
Had she not just witnessed, right before her eyes, her own mother and brother being beaten like dogs? She had no choice in the matter.
"Ugh... Ughhh..."
Catherine choked back sobs as she watched her son groaning in pain and her daughter scurrying about.
Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, forced to stand by while her children suffered every conceivable humiliation.
How overjoyed she had been when they first announced the marriage between the Fourth Imperial Princess and Samon.
When they said Kazen would take them in, she had rejoiced, thinking their hardships were finally over—that even in a collapsed sky, there would still be a hole to crawl out of.
But who could have imagined? The woman who was to become her daughter-in-law was a vicious brute who not only beat her own husband but even struck her mother-in-law.
And she treated Catherine's own daughter like a mere handmaid. Her precious Virna, who had never once dirtied her delicate hands—her Virna, who had been the noble daughter of Duke Claudio.
How had things come to this? She looked up at the sky with bitter resentment.
"The carriage is ready."
"Hmph, don't let those sluggish snails ride in my carriage."
The Fourth Imperial Princess glared at the Claudio family with disgust and snapped her orders.
Once the betrothal ceremony concluded, they were to depart for Kazen immediately.
"Y-Your Highness, then where should we—"
"Just stick them in the baggage cart!"
She had absolutely no intention of enduring the resentment of Valdina's citizens by traveling with her detested in-laws.
At the princess's stubbornness, Samon hastily struggled to rise from his injured state.
"W-wife, that's—"
"Who gave you permission to call me 'wife'?!"
Slap!
While Samon staggered, clutching his stinging cheek, the Fourth Imperial Princess had already climbed into her carriage.
"Uncle, this—this is too much...! Isn't this going too far...?!"
Samon vented his outrage to Count Laju, who had approached.
The baggage cart was pitifully small and shabby compared to the princess's carriage just moments ago.
Its narrow windows were barred like a prison cell—as if meant to cage them.
For Samon, who had been coddled as the young lord of the Claudio dukedom, this was an unbearable insult.
Was he supposed to enter Kazen riding in this? The journey would be arduous enough, but how would the imperial citizens look down on him then?
Laju shook his head with a sorrowful expression.
"There's nothing to be done. Didn't you expect the Fourth Imperial Princess to throw a tantrum?"
"A tantrum?"
Samon's eyes burned with fury. Could the endless torrent of verbal abuse and violence really be dismissed as mere childish fits?
"What else can you do? Would you rather return to the guillotine now? For the time being, you must grovel and appease Her Highness's temper."
Moreover, the plan involving the inheritance still remained.
If the child were lost, the princess's rage would only grow. She would surely blame Samon for being hindered by something as insignificant as a lost heir.
"Samon, none of us expected the position of royal consort to be easy. You must endure, persevere, and focus on securing your lineage."
Laju urged Samon to cast aside foolish thoughts and consider only the benefits.
"I'll follow shortly. Give this blanket to the Duchess and Virna. The baggage cart will be grueling—I worry for them."
In the end, Samon had no choice but to board the wretched baggage cart with his family.
Clatter, clatter. The sound of the carriage wheels turning accompanied the opening of the palace gates.
Thud—
But as if to prove that the Claudio family's tribulations were far from over, a crowd packed the streets, waiting for them as they emerged from the plaza.
"It's Kazen's carriage!"
"Where's Claudio? Is he there? Where is he?!"
"Ahaha, hiding in the baggage cart? These cowards! Damned bastards of the world! Trying to slink away like rats!"
The enraged citizens hurled stones at them.
Crack—!
Something sticky and foul struck Samon's forehead. It was wet filth.
The Regent's clothes had long been drenched in sewage.
"Ahh! Stop it, stop!"
Virna and Catherine were also flailing under the relentless barrage of filth.
The Imperial Princess's knights drove the carriage at a visibly sluggish pace.
"Rebels! You filthy traitors!"
The people showed no sign of stopping their assault of stones and refuse.
Samon felt like he was losing his mind.
They probably think we're living in luxury, clinging to Kazen as our lifeline, but the reality couldn't be more different.
The bruises from the Fourth Imperial Princess's beating ached even more sharply now.
Samon bit his lip. He bit down so hard that blood didn't just seep—it trickled down his chin.
"Samon, please, just close the window?"
Catherine pleaded when she could bear it no longer.
But as if deaf to his mother's entreaties, Samon didn't lower the window.
His frenzied gaze remained fixed on the distant Valdina Royal Palace, growing smaller in the distance.
'Pelleus, you'll regret not killing me today.'
Samon mouthed the words through bloodshot eyes.
He might be leaving in disgrace now, but when he returned, it would be with his head held high.
More magnificent and awe-inspiring than Pelleus himself, trampling this land beneath his horse's hooves and dragging him from the throne.
"I will return to Valdina."
His vow, with no promise of when, vanished into the thick dust kicked up by the carriage wheels.
Beneath the evening glow as the sun dipped low.
Having returned to the princess's palace, Medeia watched from afar as Claudio's carriage departed.
'Samon, you may breathe easy thinking you've escaped my grasp, but this isn't the end for Claudio.'
There was still one final move she had prepared for them.
Just then—click. A faint noise caught her ear. Medeia turned.
Behind the curtains fluttering at the window frame, a pale silhouette came into view.
"......"
Her hand, which had been reaching for her crossbow, froze mid-motion. Medeia spoke calmly.
"Acares, even Facade would struggle to stop my brother's spear."
She had already discerned the identity of the uninvited guest who'd come seeking her.
A faint, breathy chuckle echoed in response.
"Really? I doubt I'd lose."
The arrogant retort came as the man stepped out from behind the sheer veil.
"Long time no see, Princess."
Golden eyes like the sunset, the elegant jawline visible beneath the smooth half-mask—all unchanged.
"Princess, this place isn't safe."
"So you summoned me here."
"I suppose I don't need to tell you to be careful?"
Only then did Medeia recall. Her last memory of him in the royal palace, black smoke billowing around them.
Much time had passed since then.
'Come to think of it, Facade has been unusually quiet lately.'
She noticed the darkness and melancholy emanating from him.
The white half-mask, the black uniform buttoned tightly up to his neck. Even leather gloves, worn unlike usual, leaving no gaps exposed.
And those strangely sharp eyes, their usual light dimmed.
A far cry from Acares's characteristic languid, carefree aura.
'So he found out the antidote was fake.'
That day, when Facade's mercenaries had infiltrated the palace in search of the Tears of Dawn.
Guessing the outcome, Medeia deliberately feigned ignorance as she looked up at him.
"Have you been well? What brings you to me?"
"Thought I'd say hello."
Cesare answered lightly.
Facing Medeia's pale face looking up at him, the turbulent storm inside him—that had felt ready to tear everything apart—strangely stilled.
'This will be the last time.'
He didn't voice words like "the end" or "curse."
He simply wanted to be remembered like this, as the man the princess knew, fleeting as a passing breeze.
Yet he couldn't help but laugh at himself—dragging his failing body here against all odds.
For Cesare, who had finally accepted death and made peace with his remaining fate, the last intense desire left was Medeia.
He had wanted to see her.
"Why?"
Medeia asked again, realizing the mercenary's gaze hadn't left her.
"......"
Cesare didn't answer. Behind the white mask, his golden eyes held her.
His gaze was heavier than ever—as if he were carving her into his mind, etching her there forever.