Chapter 95
Chapter 95
Translation: godsn
"......"
Gallo grew increasingly nervous due to Cesare's lack of reaction. Surely this mad master of his wouldn't dare overstep his bounds with the Queen Dowager too.
"It was an honor."
But when the cold voice responded just in time, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
The Queen Dowager turned to the jubilant crowd.
"It seems we must conclude today's banquet here. Everyone, return and have a peaceful night. Wouldn't the people rejoice to hear of today's auspicious event?"
"Of course!"
The crowd shouted in unison.
As seasoned nobles attending today's banquet, they immediately grasped the Queen Dowager's intent.
"Mother, the Kazen diplomatic mission has not yet left Valdina. Humiliating them like this will damage relations between our nations."
The Regent hastily interjected.
"After witnessing with your own eyes how they trampled upon our Valdina while crying out for cooperation, do you still find their behavior insufficient? Why must we care when they show no regard for our circumstances?"
Having coldly rebuked the Regent, the Queen Dowager walked past him without a second glance. Catherine and Samon were similarly ignored.
"Joaquin, to worry about the Kazen people even in this situation—you're truly magnanimous. Yet when your own niece, Her Highness the Princess, sought your help, why couldn't that magnanimity be extended?"
Margrave Monte spoke, not bothering to conceal the scorn in his eyes.
It wasn't a question meant to be answered, for he left without waiting for the Regent's reply.
Following his lead, the guests began leaving the banquet hall like a receding tide. Many agreed with Margrave Monte's pointed remark.
"M-My Lord, please don't take it to heart. Everyone is simply overexcited because of today's events."
His retainers approached cautiously, attempting to console him, but the Regent only stared at the empty hall with chilling eyes.
"Medeia...... You truly......"
The Princess's Palace.
Though every corner of the palace buzzed with joyous cheers over Medeia's victory, the Princess's bedchamber remained shrouded in gloom.
"What should we do, the wound is so deep...... Your Highness, how did you endure this?"
Saya sniffled.
What had seemed like a mere graze from the sword turned out to be a gash upon closer inspection.
"With so little holy water left, it's going to leave a scar."
The thought of a scar marring that flawless, smooth arm made Saya's heart ache unbearably.
Everyone only sees the celebration! No one knows our Princess is hurt and suffering like this!
Neril, too, was devastated. Her Princess never hesitated to use even herself as a chess piece.
If it meant capturing the king, she cared not if she shattered in the process.
Neril knew.
When the Fourth Imperial Princess swung her final strike, Medeia had deliberately chosen not to dodge.
This was a move Medeia had kept hidden even from Neril.
'To provoke the Fourth Princess's panic and sear that image into the spectators' minds, no doubt.'
Now that the Princess had shed blood,
it would be difficult for the Empire to dismiss today's duel as mere childish squabbling between young girls.
No one could deny it was the optimal action to achieve her layered objectives.
And so, the outcome unfolded exactly as Medeia had anticipated.
Neril didn't know whether to marvel at her master's precision in achieving her goals or to fear how recklessly she was charging ahead without restraint.
But one thing was certain:
The Princess's back, standing alone against the Kazen delegation in that hall, had looked terribly small and lonely.
It was the back of a leader. The weight of a prophet.
And so, inadequate as I am, I could only stand behind her—never daring to walk beside her.
The Princess's tireless efforts to save Valdina from the shadows would likely never see the light of recognition.
Yet despite knowing this, she silently prepared for the next step, and the sight of her master like this filled Neril with sorrow.
Just as Neril blinked to hide her reddening eyes—
Something rolled clatteringly toward the sniffling Saya.
The small vial containing a shimmering blue liquid... was that Holy Water?
"This should do."
At that moment, the maids flinched at the rich voice that brushed against their ears.
Leaning casually against the windowsill of the bedroom was a white half-mask—the mercenary from Facade, who had brought the evening's banquet to its dramatic close.
In an instant, Neril drew her sword and lunged toward Cesare.
"Neril, Saya. Both of you, step outside."
"Your Highness—!"
Medeia remained perfectly composed.
Seeing her unshaken demeanor, Neril realized this wasn't the first time this brazen intruder had found his way into her mistress's chambers.
"This insolent—!"
"Now."
At the repeated command, Neril reluctantly sheathed her sword—though she didn't forget to glare daggers at Cesare.
"If you dare lay a finger on Her Highness, I will burn every last member of Facade to the ground."
Even as she left, she hurled one last bloodthirsty threat.
"You've got a fine subordinate."
Cesare praised. It wasn't easy to find someone so fiercely loyal—willing to charge at him without hesitation despite witnessing his earlier display.
Medeia silently stared at him. The pale moonlight cast a ghostly glow over her white face, making her look like a fairy of the night, foretelling death.
There was a fragility about her, as if she might crumble away at any moment. A cold shiver crept up his spine.
"How should I repay an unasked-for kindness?"
But as if to prove that was merely Cesare's own delusion, the Princess fixed him with her sharp gaze and spoke.
Though phrased as a question, her intent was clear.
I never asked for your help, so don't expect gratitude in return.
Yes, this was the Princess he knew. Suppressing a laugh, Cesare tapped the green handkerchief tied around his arm.
"Consider it even."
Medeia had crushed three birds with one stone tonight—the Fourth Imperial Princess, Jared, and Iason. But Cesare had gained even more.
All three had been jackals lurking in the shadows, waiting to tear apart the First Prince's faction.
"What would you have done if I hadn't stepped in tonight? Did you really think that maid of yours could take on one of Kazen's top generals?"
"Calling Jared 'top-tier' is a bit of a stretch."
Medeia smirked faintly as she picked up the vial of Holy Water he had offered earlier.
"Though I might've needed a bit more of this, the outcome would've been the same. I won't refuse it, though."
She unwrapped the bandages. Beneath them, angry red wounds marred her pale arm.
They were hideous, but she figured he wouldn't care—after all, he'd already seen the self-inflicted scars on her hands.
"Was that why you deliberately targeted Jared's right hand?"
Her hand, holding the vial of Holy Water, paused.
During the duel, Cesare had understood Medeia's orders perfectly.
No—he hadn't just understood. He had gone above and beyond, severing Jared's ring finger entirely.
Originally, Medeia's plan had been to inflict a deep wound on that finger.
Combined with the lingering effects of Violetta and Belladonna, Jared's finger would have gradually stiffened until it became completely immobile.
I chose a slow-acting method to ensure he wouldn't trace it back to me.
But with Facade taking the blame instead, Medeia had slipped cleanly out of suspicion.
"His grip was already unstable from his injuries. Losing a finger will make it nearly impossible for him to wield a sword again."
For a swordsman, that was a fate worse than death.
"What a pity."
Medeia replied flatly. Yet in her jade-green eyes, flames of malice flickered. A cruel delight seeped through.
"Since you sent your subordinate away, you should keep someone by your side from now on."
"Afraid Jared might seek revenge? I'm not scared."
And she truly wasn't. If anything, she looked forward to it. She had no intention of holding back anymore.
But Cesare found himself at a loss for words as he watched Medeia, burning with competitive fire.
"Have you forgotten that, as of today, you've made Kazen your sworn enemy? Your foes aren't limited to a crippled 10-Star Knight."
He could almost sympathize with Gallo's urge to tear his hair out and beat his chest in frustration whenever he looked at her.