Part 2, Chapter 34
Part 2, Chapter 34
Translation: godsn
"Yes! Then I shall disappear from Your Majesty's sight! I will leave the imperial capital!"
"Y-you insolent brat! Fine! Get lost! I'll banish that arrogant temper of yours to the farthest frontier! You can rot there with those worthless vermin!"
Amidst the chaos, the Fourth Imperial Princess suddenly shrieked at her father's hand pointing toward Samon.
"Ah! Do you truly wish to see me bite my tongue and drop dead on the spot? Being entangled with those beggars on paper is humiliation enough!"
"Y-you—!"
"Angelique! We are your parents! How dare you speak like that! Your Majesty! Please calm down!"
After the farce escalated with even the East Imperial Consort joining in, the Fourth Princess truly departed for the eastern territories where her maternal grandfather resided.
Rumors say that as she left, she spat on the imperial palace walls, further enraging Perdiccas II.
With the Fourth Princess's departure from the capital, Claudio's faction lost even their superficial support base.
Though it became harder for the family to maintain their position in Kazen, Samon paid no heed.
After all, his plan to remove his wife from his sight had ultimately succeeded.
'Neither the Emperor, nor the East Marquis, nor even the East Imperial Consort—none of those great figures noticed. That I was the one who sent that bitch away.'
Samon gazed at Medeia and her brother dancing in the distance.
The siblings glittered under the beautiful stained-glass light, a stark contrast to Samon's sinister eyes watching them.
'You'll soon meet the same fate.'
Today, Pelleus would ascend that altar as Valdina's Emperor to preside over the Continental Festival's ceremony.
Beneath that very altar lay enough concentrated, high-powered explosives to topple statues and blow the entire temple apart.
Samon lovingly gazed at the stone statue placed behind the altar.
Imagining the moment of detonation sent thrilling shivers down his spine.
Stone fragments would explode outward, and the Emperor's body would be hurled into the air.
And finally, that colossal, slowly tilting statue would come crashing down upon the Emperor's body.
Samon vividly pictured the altar's debris tearing through Pelleus's flesh, the merciless descent of the statue—symbolizing the goddess's mercy—crushing his bones.
The sound of the Emperor's body being pulverized beneath the rubble.
The horrific spectacle of blood and flesh bursting between stone walls played so vividly before his eyes that he couldn't suppress his smile.
The only regret was that he wouldn't be able to witness firsthand the vivid terror of death etched on Pelleus's face in that long-awaited moment.
Once Pelleus fell, the throne of Valdina would fall into his hands.
The throne that should have been his from the beginning.
'In my absence, you worked hard to develop this nation. I'll take it all now.'
"My lord."
Just then, a subordinate approached from behind and reported to Samon.
"Why are you here?"
"The butler sent me. He said protecting you is my top priority."
"Hmm..."
Samon, who had been scowling, finally relaxed his guard. The subordinate leaned in and whispered,
"You must come with me. There's been a slight problem with the operation."
"What?"
The news shattered Samon's previously composed expression.
He checked the time.
Today was the only opportunity to strike at Pelleus. Once the Emperor returned to Valdina, the iron-clad Agema would guard him like an impenetrable fortress.
His heart grew restless.
"Let's go."
He hastily followed the subordinate, leaving his seat.
Unnoticed by him, the subordinate's back was slightly more hunched than usual.
Back in the chapel, the festival was in full swing once more.
"......"
Medeia silently stared at the man who had reappeared before her.
Facing her icy gaze, Iason was the first to speak.
"Do you wish to mock me? For appearing before you again in this pitiful state—now nothing more than the Emperor's lapdog?"
Despite his handsome features, Iason's face was twisted into a deep scowl.
Even as he spoke, it was as if his own pride had been wounded.
"......"
Medeia remained silent.
Iason fidgeted restlessly with his fingers, his heart pounding as if standing at the edge of a cliff. He couldn't tell whether it was the fear of someone teetering before a sheer drop or the impulse to leap into the abyss.
"Though I can't even understand myself—Medeia, I came here to see you."
The confession spilled from Iason unbidden.
"Because of you, I've been reduced to this state. And yet, Medeia, I still can't forget you."
Damn it all—those vivid green eyes remained etched in his mind, impossible to erase.
"Medeia, do you truly have nothing to say to me?"
His crimson gaze bore into her with relentless intensity.
"......"
"Please, just one word—"
"Must I say something?"
Only when his thirst had burned to the point of desperation did her curt reply finally come.
A voice cold as ice. A gaze so indifferent it refused to even acknowledge him.
At the sight of her—unchanged from his memories—Iason exhaled a hollow breath.
For three long years, he had clung to the same recurring memories. In them, just the thought of those eyes meeting his had been enough. Just the sound of that frigid voice reaching his ears had been a solace.
But now, facing Medeia in the flesh, he realized—
This was no longer enough.
As he stared at her delicate features, at the slender white fingers clutching her dress, a thirst unlike any before surged through him. He clenched his fist, resisting the urge to seize her fragile shoulders, and cleared his throat.
"I spent a long time thinking in Kazen. Wondering where it all went wrong."
"......"
"Piece by piece, I retraced my steps—and at the very beginning of everything I lost, Medeia, there you were."
"......"
Iason was no fool. By now, he could vaguely sense the antipathy the Valdina princess held toward him.
Yet he still didn't know.
That what Medeia felt for him was no mere dislike—but hatred, deep as the Abyss.
"I..."
Iason's voice caught, and he paused briefly.
"What did I ever do to wrong you?"
The question burst forth—one he had agonized over endlessly, yet could never answer.
His voice was thick with a resentment he couldn't conceal. It bordered on desperation.
He didn't realize it was the inevitable bitterness of one who had given his heart first.
"I just can't understand—"
"You must have forgotten. I'm certain I answered that question once before."
Medeia's reply was calm.
The handsome man's desperate agitation before her seemed to leave her utterly unmoved, not even grazing the hem of her dress.
"It seems we shared an irredeemably ill-fated connection in our past lives."
Her quiet voice enunciated each syllable with precision, as if carving them into his mind.
"Ill-fated? That can't be. I know—I'm certain, because... we're connected."
He hesitated, then confessed in a voice rough as if dragged over gravel.
"Every night... I dream of you. For the past three years, not a single night has passed without you."
Every night, he had seen her.
Even when he lost the Late Emperor's retainers. Even when monsters hounded him to the brink of death.
"The you in my dreams..."
Iason's expression grew dazed, as if lost in a blissful hallucination.
"Dea..."
The Medeia in his dreams had been unbearably sweet and tender.
"Please, be careful. You know you're all I have."
"Iason. I love you."
Emerald eyes brimming with affection for him alone. Slender arms wrapping around his neck. Pale fingertips threading through his hair.
Medeia had caressed his face and whispered her love.
Could the taste of forbidden fruit ever be so sweet?
The warmth, the touch—too vivid to dismiss as mere dreams.
He couldn't forget. Those fleeting moments in his dreams where he had held her, embraced her.
That was why this cold reality was all the harder to bear.
'How could you be so tender then... How could you love me then...'
Again and again, he wanted to seize her and scream.