Chapter 153
Chapter 153
Translation: godsn
"You're acting really strange today. Not saying much, and your eyes look uneasy."
At Medeia's words, another faint pfft of laughter escaped him.
Just what part of what I said was so amusing? Just as I was about to get irritated, thinking the mercenary was mocking me—
"Stay exactly as you are now, Princess Valdina."
The mercenary bowed.
The shadow cast by his lowered form was so large it seemed to envelop and conceal Medeia entirely.
Unspoken emotions swirled like a vortex in the eyes that met hers, rising intensely before settling back down.
He reached out. A handful of her pale silver hair brushed against his straight fingers like threads of silk.
"It's been... enjoyable."
The shapely red lips moved, releasing a quiet murmur.
"Are you giving me some grand farewell? Planning to leave for Kazen?"
"......"
The mercenary merely quirked the corner of his well-formed lips slightly, offering no proper answer. Medeia nodded slightly as if she understood.
Whatever the case, Facade leaving Valdina wasn't a bad thing.
'It's time to send them away from Valdina now. If not now, it'll be difficult later.'
Claudio, who had threatened the royal authority, was gone, and her brother the King had returned.
Leaving two beasts in the same cage would only result in them tearing each other apart.
"Acares, if you're planning to step into the imperial succession battle, choose your backer carefully."
At Medeia's casually thrown words, Cesare paused.
"Personally, I'd take the First Prince's hand. Over someone like Grand Duke Castulo."
The conversation from that day resurfaced. But time had passed, and the situation had changed.
"Still harping on about the First Prince?"
The scoffing tone at the end of her words carried a sharpness that hadn't been there before.
"Princess, I regret to say this, but he's going to die soon. His life will be cut short before he can even shoulder the grand scheme. So—"
"What if he survives?"
Medeia cut off Cesare's words. He turned his head and stared at her.
The softness he had shown in front of the princess vanished, replaced by a chilling aura rising in his golden eyes.
"That won't happen."
He answered slowly, as if there was no room for reconsideration.
"Some beliefs must be shattered to reveal their true worth. The First Prince of Kazen will die."
Cesare Deisler Kazen will die.
He had finally admitted it—that he could see no further path forward for himself.
"There's no other hope. This is the end."
Leaving behind the past where he had vowed to struggle until the very end, he was now prepared to humbly accept death.
And it was in front of Medeia that this admission finally took place.
It was both ridiculous and tragic.
That he would acknowledge his end before the very person he least wanted to show his downfall to.
Unaware of Cesare's despair, Medeia's emerald eyes gleamed.
A clear voice, entirely out of sync with his conviction, rang out.
"Well, that's something you'll only know once you reach the very end."
Medeia slid open a drawer with a clack.
Though she had prepared it from the start, her tone was playfully nonchalant, as if she'd just thought of it now.
A small velvet box was thrust before Cesare's eyes.
"......What is this?"
Her green eyes answered for her, as if telling him to open it.
Click. As the box opened, his straight fingers stiffened abruptly. A violent tremor shook his golden pupils.
Silence flooded the bedroom.
"......This is—"
"Acares, you should recognize it, no?"
Encased in velvet, a blue cylinder lay before Cesare, emitting an impossibly vivid glow.
"Tears of Dawn. The thing your Facade has been searching for."
"......"
"Neither yours, nor the Magic Tower's—it belongs to us, to Valdina."
Medeia answered composedly.
Cesare picked up the Tears. Even as the icy chill seeped into his skin, it all felt strangely unreal.
That the Tears of Dawn had truly appeared before his eyes. That they were now clutched in his hand.
As if mocking him, the silvery liquid inside the cylinder rippled.
The vivid shimmer, like flickering starlight, was dazzlingly radiant.
The fake cylinder he had found in the King's Tower couldn't even compare.
Like a candle suddenly igniting, Cesare finally understood. He turned his head and stared at Medeia.
"So it was you, Princess, who hid the fake."
"You're not thinking of getting angry, are you? I've been turning a blind eye to your lot ransacking a foreign royal palace out of past goodwill."
Medeia replied indifferently.
Her unchangingly haughty expression and demeanor only served to highlight Facade's shameless antics.
"How... could I possibly be angry?"
Cesare barely managed to speak while still gripping the Tears.
His throat felt tight, as if a strange sound might escape at any moment.
"Acares, deliver this to the First Prince. Tell him it's a gift from Valdina."
"......"
"Moreover, consider this my goodwill toward your Facade as well. Remember that."
The messenger Medeia had chosen was not the Magic Tower—but Facade.
Her flat tone, as if warning him not to forget, jolted Cesare's distant mind back to reality.
"Princess... do you truly intend to save the First Prince?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Medeia turned fully to face Cesare. A composed, frigid air brushed across her pale face.
"Because I want him to survive."
To live and shake the Empire. To ensure that both the Emperor and Iason are helplessly swept away in that upheaval.
The First Prince is an invasive species that disrupts the ecosystem.
If he, who had met an early demise in his past life, does not die—how might the Empire's, no, the continent's power dynamics shift?
"......"
Cesare's eyes wavered at Medeia's words.
"I'll... deliver it well."
She didn't notice how his voice cracked, hoarse with emotion.
"Good, Acares. I trust you won't betray that faith."
Entrusting the Tears of Dawn to Facade's hands was a tremendous gamble for Medeia as well.
At her sharp words, the mercenary smiled again before kneeling before her. A cool, firm hand drew hers close.
Just as his sleek black hair seemed to graze her skin, a searing sensation, like a brand being pressed, bloomed across the back of her hand.
Cesare had bent his knee and pressed his lips to Medeia's hand.
"By the name of Facade, I swear to clearly proclaim that Valdina's Tears have saved the First Prince."
The reverence radiating from his flawless posture and self-proclaimed submission momentarily flustered Medeia.
Him—kneeling and bowing before someone.
In all the time she had known Acares, leader of Facade, she had never once imagined such a sight.
Hadn't this man been insufferably arrogant, regardless of status or rank?
"And I—"
A rich voice, slow as if to declare this wasn't the end, resonated against her ear.
"Medeia, I shall become your finest sword."
The exhilaration that now sent tremors through Cesare—the Princess would likely neither know nor understand it.
In his fierce struggle against the Curse of the Beginning, defying fate, the realization that had finally dawned upon him wasn't by his own choice.
The cruel reality had forced him to accept it.
That Cesare, too, was merely human—unable to escape the shackles of destiny.
Yet, the Princess before him had shattered those shackles.
Like the sun rising beyond the horizon, she had driven back the darkness from the brink of death and pulled him free.
Medeia de Valdina, she was.
Like a newly hatched chick imprinting on the first being it sees as its mother, those vivid golden eyes captured Medeia in their gaze.
From her fragile silver hair that seemed ready to shatter at a touch, to delicate facial features that contrasted sharply with her unyielding gaze—he engraved every detail into himself.
I'll probably spend the rest of my life living for this woman.
A premonition bordering on prophecy embedded itself in Cesare's mind.
"There's a falling giant star. A pitch-black one. That star will cut through the chaos blocking your path, my lady."
This was the moment when the blind crone's prophecy—one he couldn't possibly have known about—spoken to Medeia long ago, came to fruition.
Simultaneously, soaring elation and joy flooded Cesare's chest.
For an instant, instinct guided him more than reason.
His hands pulled Medeia's to wrap around his own neck, as if she were fastening an invisible leash around his throat.
"As Her Highness desires."
Your enemies shall be my enemies, your dreams my aspirations, and I shall become your one and eternal sanctuary.
With this silent vow that seeped into his very lungs, Cesare lowered his head.
Like pressing a seal onto a small palm, he brought his lips down upon her soft skin.
His robust vitality, his scorching heat—they traveled through their connected skin to Medeia herself. Her normally unshakable emerald eyes trembled violently.
"What kind of absurd—"
As Medeia tried to pull away from this unheard-of behavior, his firm hands covered hers and wouldn't let go.
Thump-thump. Through their pressed skin, she could feel every pulse of his pounding heartbeat.
And just as Medeia was about to kick him in the chest, the pressure released.
"Acares!"
"Well then, farewell, Medeia."
A slow, deep voice resonated in Medeia's ears.
He had already snatched the Falling Tears and leaped nimbly out the window.
Only fluttering curtains remained as proof he'd ever been there.
"That man... truly does as he pleases till the very end."
Frowning her elegant brow, Medeia pressed a hand to her chest.
Her frantic heartbeat seemed loud enough to be heard outside.
Her white fingers, pressing repeatedly against her flushed cheeks, twitched involuntarily. It still felt like traces of his searing body heat lingered there.
The pulse she'd felt beneath her fingers around his neck, his hair tickling the back of her hand, those vivid golden eyes looking up at her from his kneeling position—
Like a ferocious beast baring its fangs only to become docile and obedient in her grasp.
This bizarre, disconcerting feeling was something even Medeia experienced for the first time, leaving her momentarily helpless against its tide.
Exhaling deeply in the storm of confusion, Medeia steadied herself. Haa. Drawing a breath, she quickly regained her composure.
The heat faded from her green eyes, replaced by their usual coolness.
With this, the First Prince of Kazen will return.
Regardless of their leader's eccentricities, Facade would faithfully fulfill their duties.
The survival of the ill-fated First Prince was a future that hadn't existed before. Not even Medeia could be certain whether this choice would bring benefit or harm.
A faint hesitation flickered—had she perhaps unleashed something beyond even her control?
"It doesn't matter."
But what Medeia desired in this life wasn't the empire, nor victory.
She wanted only the complete downfall of her enemies.
So it didn't matter whose throat the mad dog she'd saved would sink its teeth into, as long as it could shake the empire to its core.
Medeia looked up at the sky. Darkness thick as pitch had already enveloped the world.
The glittering silver stars shone all the brighter against it.
"Iason... Rachel..."
Their names, her enemies' names, rode the cold night wind into the darkness.
"Wait. Your turn is coming soon."
Medeia's vengeance began now.
<The Crown I Will Take From You> Part 1, End.