Chapter 52
Chapter 52
Translation: godsn
Contrary to Virna's expectations, the leader didn't show hostility toward the princess—instead, he was the first to bow and offer his greetings.
"Facade greets the valiant Princess of Valdina."
"Welcome to Valdina."
When Medeia gave a slight nod in acknowledgment of his greeting, Gallo suddenly winked at her.
"Just call me Gallo. I'm a rough-around-the-edges fellow with no family name to speak of."
"Very well, Sir Gallo."
"Haha. You can just call me Gallo, no need for formalities."
His prominent cheekbones gleamed under the chandelier's light.
Despite his innocent expression, Medeia responded with her usual composed smile.
That the leader of Facade had sought her out to greet her first was clearly meant to bolster her prestige.
Yet Medeia couldn't let her guard down, knowing these men had been roaming Valdina's streets.
An exchange of appropriately friendly conversation and probing ensued, hinting at their amicable relationship.
Throughout the conversation, Medeia couldn't shake the feeling that Gallo seemed oddly preoccupied with the reactions of the mercenary standing behind him.
'Acares... was it?'
Then, in a fleeting moment, her gaze inadvertently met the mercenary's.
Instead of avoiding her eyes, he deliberately curled the corner of his mouth upward.
How peculiar. That a subordinate would act more boldly than his leader.
"That spear of Saint Esther lighting up the sky earlier was truly magnificent. I've traveled far and wide across the continent, but never before have I witnessed such a vivid blessing of victory," Gallo prattled on, rubbing his hands together.
"Which means Valdina's day of triumph can't be far—"
"Wasn't it all too convenient to be mere coincidence?"
An abrupt question cut in. Medeia turned her head.
"Timed so precisely—blazing bright yet vanishing so quickly. Since when does divine will cater so perfectly to human convenience?"
"Acares, what are you saying? My apologies, Your Highness. This one here has a habit of making unnecessary jokes."
Seeing Gallo's flustered expression as he turned to reprimand his mercenary, the source of the question became clear.
If this was one of Facade's top mercenaries, he might have recognized the traces of the White Light Bomb she'd used.
"It's quite alright, Sir."
Medeia decided to feign ignorance.
"Though devout Valdinans would never dare lie in the name of the gods, I wouldn't expect such piety from Facade, who wouldn't hesitate to commit sacrilege. I understand completely."
"......"
Gallo was struck dumb, like a bee-stung mute. Even after being rebuked, the mercenary seemed more intrigued than chastised.
"Then does the Princess consider herself devout?"
"Of course."
Medeia met the mercenary's gaze without flinching.
"Had I not believed in the Goddess's mercy, I wouldn't have turned a blind eye to your insolence now, would I?"
Cesare suppressed a laugh at the princess who delivered such barbed words with an innocent face.
The very person who manipulated the Queen Dowager with a goddess statue and tricked the Regent with fake divine flames now claiming piety with her own mouth?
"Acares, please show some respect to Her Highness..."
Gallo, caught between the two, poked Cesare's ribs repeatedly with an exasperated expression.
Had his master forgotten he was disguised as a mere mercenary? This was the princess of the nation!
Then, upon hearing the princess's retort—
'Your insolence? Wait, our boss shouldn't be spoken to like this...?'
Gallo's already bewildered expression turned even more stunned, like he'd been slapped twice.
"—What is the meaning of this?!"
Just then, the banquet hall erupted into chaos.
At last! A glint flashed through her emerald eyes.
All three turned their heads.
"Minister—what are you doing?!"
"Huff, huff... huff..."
There, stripped half-naked and panting heavily as he pummeled an elderly noble, was Minister Etienne.
One hour earlier, Count Etienne's situation.
"Maggots? How dare that wench Cuisine mock me?"
The fury he'd felt upon first hearing the princess's words had now snowballed into an uncontrollable rage.
His directionless anger suddenly exploded in an instant.
Crash—!
"Claudio, you bastard—you've been treating me like this all along, haven't you? Thought you could manipulate me however you pleased just because you had dirt on me? Ha!"
The venomous toad's wrath extended even to Duke Claudio, Cuisine's master.
The Minister was well aware of his own hideous appearance and eccentricities.
In fact, he took perverse pleasure in the disgusted eyes and uncomfortable expressions people failed to hide behind their obsequious smiles.
But the fact that even Duke Claudio, who had understood his eccentricities and extended his hand first, had done the same left a deep gash in the Minister's pride.
As the image of Duke Claudio's handsome face surfaced in his mind, his rage flared even hotter.
"That princess, that Regent—they're all the same ilk. Do they think royal blood is made of gold? Without it, they'd be nothing but trembling worms before me..."
The Minister's true feelings, so carefully concealed until now, began to unravel one by one.
The incense he'd been inhaling through Umberto played a significant role, but so did the effects of the drug Virna had mixed into Medeia's wine.
"Why is this room so damn hot, Umberto! Umberto!"
The servant who was supposed to bring his drink was still nowhere to be seen. His throat burned as if on fire, yet the bottle was completely empty.
Now even some worthless servant brat dares to ignore me?
"These bastards all take me for a fool!"
He sprang up from his seat.
His entire body felt like it was swelling with heat.
The suffocating cravat around his neck, the tight banquet attire—everything felt stifling. Etienne began tearing off his clothes one by piece.
After ridding himself of all hindrances, he grabbed the doorknob Umberto had left ajar and flung it open.
As he stepped out of the room reeking of strong liquor and foul sweat, a wave of cool air greeted him like an old friend.
In the distance, golden light seeped from the banquet hall.
"Aha, so this bastard left his master behind and slipped away... Time to show him what's what—"
Suddenly, the sound of music from the banquet hall reached the Minister's ears.
The beautiful melody flowing through his ears, the sounds of people laughing and chattering, the sweet fragrance carried by the wind—
The cold corridor where he now stood seemed to whisper to him:
No matter how much you struggle, you'll never set foot in that bright, cheerful place.
A blue flame erupted from the Minister's eyes.
"Since when has there been any place in Valdina where I cannot go?!"
Etienne marched resolutely toward the golden light.
An elderly noble standing at the banquet hall entrance paled at the sight of him.
His face was flushed crimson, his outer garments discarded, sweat pouring down his body.
As he drew closer, the stench of alcohol assaulted their noses.
"Minister Etienne? What in the world—"
"What's this old fool doing here? Go carve your coffin and crawl inside!"
The elderly noble was offended, but seeing the Minister didn't even recognize him, he realized he was thoroughly drunk.
"Now, Minister. I don't know what's happened, but let's move elsewhere. There are noble ladies and young misses here—this is hardly appropriate—"
With good intentions, the elderly noble tried to soothe the Minister and usher him away.
Little did he know how his words sounded to the hallucinating Minister.
[How dare this filthy maggot stick its nose in? You trash!]
"Trash? How dare this walking corpse!"
The moment the elderly noble, suppressing his disgust, grabbed the Minister's sweaty, glistening thick arm—stars exploded before his eyes.
The Minister had struck his jaw.
As the commotion erupted at the banquet entrance, all eyes turned toward them.
"What? What's happening?"
"Wait—isn't that Count Etienne, the Minister? Why is he like this?"
"Minister, please excuse us."
Palace attendants rushed over, helping up the fallen noble and seizing Etienne's arms.
"Let go! Won't you let go?! Do you know who I am?! You wretches! Won't you let go?!"
Etienne thrashed violently.
His massive frame, combined with his lost rationality, left the attendants powerless.
The precarious sight of them tangled together like a writhing mass drew screams from onlookers.
Amid the deafening noise, Etienne raised his head.
Hundreds of eyes. The painfully bright chandelier light.
"Hah, hah... Hah..."
They were all laughing at him. Somewhere, he could even hear snickering.
As his gaze darted around, Medeia came into view.
When seeking to vent anger, people often choose the easiest target—someone weak, someone who can't retaliate.
To the Minister, the young princess was exactly that.
"Kyaaah—!"
"Her Highness is in danger!"
The Minister let out a roar and charged.