Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Translation: godsn
"They say the rumors have already spread like wildfire through the royal castle," a man spat out excitedly, flecks of saliva flying.
"The Royal Head Maid completely took over the palace and tormented the Princess. They say she only served rotten food in the Princess's quarters and even hid needles in her clothes."
"Yeah, yeah. I heard it too from some shoe-shiner in the capital streets. Things got so bad the Princess, unable to endure it alone, ended up handing out jewels to her maids, begging them to stop the harassment."
People tilted their heads in disbelief. It was hard to fathom.
"Is that really true? She's a princess, after all. How could servants dare treat their mistress like that?"
"Princess or not, she's an orphan. With her brother the King gone, what family does she have left to protect her? So those good-for-nothings saw an easy target. I mean, come on. Look at her—just a naive little girl barely older than our Emma here. What could she possibly do on her own?"
A soldier patted his daughter's head as he spoke.
The girl with braided hair had grown quite a bit, now reaching about chest height compared to her father.
But her hands were still small, and the softness of childhood still lingered in her cheeks.
"Father?"
The girl looked up at him with round, innocent eyes, utterly bewildered.
For a moment, the heated chatter died down as everyone grew awkwardly silent.
It suddenly dawned on them.
"Cursed," "greedy," "parasite." The very princess they had just been viciously cursing in colorful language was the same age as this girl.
What had they just done?
Had they really poured all their resentment and fury onto a young girl who hadn't even tasted the bitterness of the world yet?
"Those bastards deserve to die."
"No matter what, she's still the King's sister. How could anyone treat Valdina's bloodline like that?"
They feigned outrage, partly to ease their own creeping guilt.
"But wait," someone interjected."The Princess's uncle is the Regent, Duke Claudio. How could he not have known?"
"Those jewels the Princess supposedly gave away were all gifts from the Duke, weren't they? You're telling me a man of his stature, the Regent no less, had no idea his beloved niece was being tormented? I don't buy it."
"My friend, do you know how ambitious the Duke—no, the Prince—was in his younger days?"
"Having the throne snatched by his nephew, his only remaining niece must have been a thorn in his side. Anyone can fake affection when others are watching."
"Come on, surely not."
"Either way, it just goes to show how hard it is without parents. Poor Princess. Cursed or not, she was left all alone at such a young age."
The conversation shifted to whether Regent Claudio truly cared for his niece, the Princess.
"Still, I can't stand it. Frankly, I don't trust the King either, leaving the royal seal to a child like that in the first place."
"It's all because of this damned war. When will it ever end?"
"When will the Goddess of Victory finally grace our Valdina?"
Like a boiling pot, the soldiers' heated discussion moved on to endless topics.
Regardless, the rumors Medeia had planted among the maids had served their purpose.
Whispered from ear to ear, the people of Valdina's unwavering faith in the Regent would gradually erode.
Medeia closed her eyes and leaned back.
Memories of her foolish past life surfaced. She vowed—this time, she would make everything different.
The waning sunlight bathed her face in its glow.
Clatter. The carriage set off once more.
At last, they arrived at Marquess Gilifos's estate.
"Her Highness Princess Medeia has arrived."
Following the steward's polite bow, Medeia stepped inside the mansion.
The mansion, as if mirroring the demeanor of its master who had relinquished all power and stepped back, was rugged yet possessed a stately elegance.
"He is waiting. Neril, you stay here."
The steward spoke before the thick mahogany door.
"I am also Her Highness's guard. I must remain by her side."
Neril shook her head firmly and stepped in front of Medeia, blocking her path.
"Do you think His Excellency would harm Her Highness? Do you intend to tarnish even your master's honor? Step aside."
Though the steward coldly reprimanded her, Neril did not yield.
Perhaps it was because the crude curses of the commoners she had heard earlier toward her master still weighed heavily on her heart.
Like a mother bird shielding her fledgling, her stance was sharp, and her feet planted on the carpet were as unyielding as ancient tree roots.
"Your stubbornness hasn't changed a bit."
The steward shook his head in exasperation before turning back to Medeia.
"Your Highness, though it may be presumptuous, my master has stated he will not see anyone unless it is a private audience. If you are concerned for your safety, he also said he would understand if you chose to return to the palace."
The steward's words were polite and smooth, as if he had prepared his response in advance. Neril was deeply disappointed.
Has even my master stooped to coveting a place above Her Highness's head? How is this any different from the Regent?
"I never thought my master would act like this. If he meant to insult Her Highness, why did he even reply to my letter?"
As Neril stiffened her face to protest, a small hand rested on her shoulder.
"It's alright, Neril."
That was all it took—the tension that had been ready to explode dissipated at once.
Understanding the princess's intent, Neril stepped back.
"Let's go in."
There was no further debate. That very lack of hesitation made her seem like the true master of this place.
"......Yes, Your Highness."
The steward struggled to conceal his surprise at the composed young princess, who held the reins of the situation like a seasoned veteran.
Swish.
The only sound was the soft rustle of Medeia's dress hem brushing the floor, as silence enveloped the interior.
The room they entered was heavy with tension.
A suffocating pressure, as if weighing down on their shoulders.
Even amidst it, the sharp atmosphere made it impossible to let their guard down.
True to a warrior who had once trained knights and fought on the frontlines of battle, the marquess's room was lined with weapons on all sides.
Medeia's gaze settled on the old man standing with his back to the window.
Her eyes were first drawn not to his still-imposing frame but to the neatly tied leather cord binding his stark white hair and his thick, unkempt beard.
"Your Highness."
The former captain of the Royal Guard, Marquess Gilifos, turned to face her. Even in old age, his posture remained rigid.
"It's been a long time, Marquess Gilifos."
"Time is indeed fleeting."
The marquess studied the princess.
The child who had once clutched a pillowcase and sobbed had grown so much, now standing before him alone in this secluded place.
"You, Marquess, remain unchanged."
Yet she still had that soft, downy look about her.
Her faint eyebrows, round face, and petite frame still evoked the image of a fawn not yet fully grown.
And so, Gilifos could not fully believe the rumors.
That this fragile girl, who looked as if she could barely hold a silver spoon without trembling, had beaten the Head Maid?
The exaggeration seems a bit much.
"I heard the news. That you saved my unworthy disciple. This old man offers his belated gratitude."
"Neril is my person. There is no reason for you to thank me, Marquess."
At the princess's reply, Gilifos inwardly sighed in relief.
Even if she is naive and foolish, at least she looks after her own. My disciple won't be left to die like a dog.
"You have taken the trouble to come all this way, so I shall be frank with you."
As if to say the pleasantries ended here, Marquess Gilifos opened his mouth.
"Your Highness gaining wisdom, even belatedly, is a good thing. However, I have long been removed from state affairs and have no intention of returning."
"......"
"If you sought me out as a replacement for the Regent, I must humbly inform you that I dare not shoulder such a burden."
'Having fallen out with the Head Maid, she must feel uneasy.'
Gilifos assumed the princess had sought him out because she wanted his backing.
'If that weren't the case, why would she risk such a long journey in secret just to meet me?'
A bitter taste rose in his throat. It was disappointment toward the child of the master he had served his entire life.
'To think the princess would show such weakness, desperately seeking someone else to lean on.'
Though his late lord had been a truly admirable figure, Gilifos thought his bloodline had utterly failed.
The late king's younger brother was a wolf coveting the throne, his son a stubborn fool obsessed with war, and his daughter a fragile simpleton.
"Your Highness. You must not be swayed by their honeyed words. They seek only to use you for their own gain."
"So you're saying you're not one of them? I know full well you're after the Royal Seal!"
Gilifos's earnest advice was drowned out by the princess's accusations, poisoned by the whispers of cunning men in her ear.
"A leader's power stems solely from the people's trust. You must heed their cries. This is my final counsel before I depart."
Yet the princess stubbornly ignored Gilifos's advice, and in the end, he turned his back on the royal palace and left politics behind.
For he saw no hope left—not in the princess who had become the Regent's puppet, nor in this kingdom.
"Had the late king still lived, things would never have come to this... Have you forsaken Valdina, Your Majesty?"
Valdina had lost its light. And it seemed unlikely to ever shine again.
Thus, he had not the slightest intention of wading back into that mire of power now.
"I am old now, with many things I must protect. It's all I can do to keep myself standing—how could I possibly shoulder Your Highness's grand ambitions?"
Medeia could feel Gilifos's wide eyes observing her.
"You may ask what more an old man who's lived this long could possibly want, but please remember this final request of one whose only dream is to live out his days in quiet peace."
Gilifos drove the nail home.
He made no attempt to hide his determination to avoid Medeia, using his age and frailty as excuses.
'His dream is to live out his days in quiet peace?'
The same Gilifos who, in her past life, had died holding back the hordes of Magic Beasts that overran Valdina, preventing them from breaching the royal castle.
While the Regent and other nobles fled, he alone had remained until the end to protect Valdina.
"I understand your position perfectly."
One of his eyebrows arched upward.
Medeia's expression remained unreadable. She neither seemed disappointed nor angry.
A look of surprise flickered across Gilifos's face.
'I prided myself on being a good judge of character, but...'
Strangely, he could discern nothing from the young princess's expression.
At that moment, Medeia placed a stack of papers on the desk.
Just as Gilifos narrowed his eyes to read the writing on them—
"This is my entire fortune. I have a request for you, Marquess."
As expected.
Gilifos let out a sigh at the princess's predictable response.
"Your Highness, I must reiterate—no matter what you offer, I have no intention of leaving this pl—"
"No. What I need from you is neither protection nor support."
Medeia cut him off decisively.
"Then...?"