As Montiel Zelma’s lips distorted horribly, Erdene smiled as if she were watching the most delightful spectacle in the world.
Arkan examined the wound on Erdene’s horse.
The stab wound itself was so small that it was barely visible, but blood was seeping out.
“Take Montiel Zelma to the castle.”
As Arkan gave the order, the cold-eyed attendants and soldiers stood Montiel up violently.
One side of her carefully braided hair was disheveled, and the hem of her expensive dress ripped under her shoes as she struggled to avoid being dragged away.
“No, I didn’t do that! Your Majesty! I didn’t do that, that’s a lie!”
Arkan turned his head away from Montiel as if he didn’t want to hear anymore.
Montiel, who had been screaming, realized that there was no hope for her to cling to Arkan, and soon even asked for sympathy from Erdene and Pelarhar.
“Your Highness! I was wrong. Oh, let go! Your Highness Pelarhar! It wasn’t me! I really didn’t!”
There was no one to answer her as she cried and screamed.
Arkan told his servant to call Count Zelma as soon as he returned to the castle and ordered him to drag away the horse Erdene had been trying to ride. He stared blankly at Montiel Zelma, who was struggling, and then looked back at Erdene.
He was astonished to see her expression full of relief as if some old illness had gone away.
“Did you do that on purpose earlier?”
“What on purpose?”
“Was it on purpose that you were with Pelarhar earlier?”
Erdene made a snort and didn’t answer. Then she shrugged and looked back at Arkan.
“What should I ride back?”
She looked at the small carriage she had originally prepared for Montiel.
“I don’t like that cramped carriage.”
Arkan, who was holding the reins of his horse, grumbled.
“Why don’t you ride with me? Are you afraid someone might leave you behind?”
Arkan examined the wound on Erdene’s horse.
The stab wound itself was so small that it was barely visible, but blood was seeping out.
“Take Montiel Zelma to the castle.”
As Arkan gave the order, the cold-eyed attendants and soldiers stood Montiel up violently.
One side of her carefully braided hair was disheveled, and the hem of her expensive dress ripped under her shoes as she struggled to avoid being dragged away.
“No, I didn’t do that! Your Majesty! I didn’t do that, that’s a lie!”
Arkan turned his head away from Montiel as if he didn’t want to hear anymore.
Montiel, who had been screaming, realized that there was no hope for her to cling to Arkan, and soon even asked for sympathy from Erdene and Pelarhar.
“Your Highness! I was wrong. Oh, let go! Your Highness Pelarhar! It wasn’t me! I really didn’t!”
There was no one to answer her as she cried and screamed.
Arkan told his servant to call Count Zelma as soon as he returned to the castle and ordered him to drag away the horse Erdene had been trying to ride. He stared blankly at Montiel Zelma, who was struggling, and then looked back at Erdene.
He was astonished to see her expression full of relief as if some old illness had gone away.
“Did you do that on purpose earlier?”
“What on purpose?”
“Was it on purpose that you were with Pelarhar earlier?”
Erdene made a snort and didn’t answer. Then she shrugged and looked back at Arkan.
“What should I ride back?”
She looked at the small carriage she had originally prepared for Montiel.
“I don’t like that cramped carriage.”
Arkan, who was holding the reins of his horse, grumbled.
“Why don’t you ride with me? Are you afraid someone might leave you behind?”
Erdene bit her lips and smiled with satisfaction. Watching Arkan’s slightly reddened neck and ears couldn’t have been more fun.
It was not that Arkan didn’t know Montiel Zelma’s scheme was a scheme, but it was clear that he didn’t like the fact that Erdene’s plan worked so well and was efficient.
“Yes. If Your Majesty says so, who would refuse? Right?”
“Stop nagging and get on quickly.”
Erdene burst into laughter and climbed onto Arkan’s horse.
Arkan still had a discontented expression on his face, but he hugged her as if he was holding something precious, in case she slipped again, and started the horse.
“Your Highness Pelarhar, aren’t you going?”
The servant asked Pelarhar, who was standing blankly, watching the scene.
He suddenly came to his senses and looked back at the servant with a polite smile.
“No, I should go back.”
It was fortunate that no one saw the bitter and vain smile that passed across his face as he stepped on the stirrup and mounted his horse.
When he heard from the servant that Arkan had called him aside, Count Zelma’s stomach swelled like a tadpole.
He walked toward the King’s residence with a ridiculously confident stride, filled with the vain dream that his daughter would push Erdene out and take the Queen’s seat at any moment.
However, that hope was dashed in vain by Arkan’s one word: banish Montiel Zelma from the capital.
“That’s ridiculous!”
Count Zelma’s body trembled as if he had been hit by a cold wind as he shouted. He was about to rush to Arkan at any moment, but his steps froze at the sight of his cold expression, which he had never seen since his enthronement.
Arkan said,
“That’s ridiculous, what do you mean ridiculous? That your daughter, who has the guts to dare to be rude in front of me, the Queen, and the Duke of Sonnetum? Or that she tried to harm the Queen with a cheap trick and then cried as if she were the one who was hurt, Count?”
Count Zelma’s face, drained of blood, turned pale and then pale.
“Ti, Tiel would do something like that. Your Majesty, that’s impossible! My daughter is a child with a weak heart who can’t even kill an ant. There’s a misunderstanding...!”
“What misunderstanding? In this situation, does your claim that there was a misunderstanding mean nothing more than that the Queen framed your daughter?”
“Your Majesty, that’s not it...!"
The Count clearly remembered the day when his daughter had cried and made a fuss, saying that she had been embarrassed because of Erdene.
The Count, who had already been thinking badly of Erdene, kept thinking about it over and over again, and when he heard that Arkan was going horseback riding with the Queen, he thought that his chance had come.
There were not many people in the Vetor castle who looked favorably on Erdene.
Rather, more people were displeased or treated her like she did not exist, so this was the right time.
If rumors spread that the Queen had treated the official's daughter rudely and ignored her and that she had not shown leniency even when she asked for forgiveness, it would make public opinion about Erdene even more hostile.
When he heard the rumors, Arkan had not even come near the Queen's bedroom.
If his daughter were to become pregnant with the King's child while the Queen was hated so much, or at least become the most favored government official...
Arkan's sarcastic voice struck like a whip into the Count's ears as he looked at his plans that had completely fallen apart with eyes that could not believe them.
“Your daughter is your daughter, but I have something to tell you too. On my way back, I happened to meet the Privy Councilor, who told me that you had incited the Privy Council recorders to downplay the Queen’s achievements in the assassination by the messengers of Etonhorn and Kensilom. Is that true?”
“...Yes?”
“Do I have to repeat that again?”
Count Zelma’s mouth fell open. It seemed as if his lower jaw had completely fallen out.
He trembled like an aspen tree, and rolled his eyes here and there, mumbling.
“Your Majesty, that, that. That was me.”
“It was the Queen who realized that there were assassins that day and prepared measures to deal with them. But according to what you told the recorders, it was the officials who realized the conspiracy of the messengers that day, and the Queen only instructed them to write that they ‘presented gifts’ and ‘assisted the King in stopping the assassins.’ Is that true or not? Just tell me that.”
“Your Majesty, that is...”
“I told you to just tell me if it’s true or not!”
Arkan roared in anger.
Count Zelma, who had never seen the young King, who was usually flexible and quiet, explode in anger like this, hesitated and took a step back.
Count Zelma knew that tampering with royal records was clearly a serious crime.
However, the Count did not think that he was fabricating facts that he had not done or completely erasing what had happened, but only vaguely covering up the part about Erdene. He had prepared an excuse if word got out and he was questioned.
However, Arkan was so angry that his mind turned white. He could not even open his mouth, let alone make an excuse.
Arkan said,
“As of today, I will strip you of your position as a privy councilor and confiscate eight-tenths of the lands granted to the Count’s family. Also, you and all other direct members of the Counts are prohibited from entering the capital until royal permission is obtained.”
“Your Majesty!”
“One more thing. Your daughter, Montiel Zelma, boldly attempted to harm the Queen, so it would not be enough to immediately chain her and imprison her, but the Queen has forgiven her once, so she is specially pardoned. However, she cannot marry an official of the capital or any child of a noble family listed in the royal register. Remember that.”
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, no! I will be punished. Please forgive Tiel! I will not do such a thing again. Her Majesty, come, the Queen. Please let me speak to the Queen just once!”
Count Zelma desperately clung to Arkan as if he would grab his trouser leg.
However, Arkan simply shook him off with words.
“What difference would it make if you met the Queen? She has forgiven your daughter, but she is very upset right now. I do not want to see blood here. Even if it is the blood of a scoundrel like you.”
As Arkan nodded, Plat led the soldiers inside.
The soldiers grabbed the Count’s arms on both sides and forcibly dragged him along, trying to hold on with all their might.
“Your Majesty, no! It’s all a misunderstanding! Something is wrong! Your Majesty!”
Count Zelma’s voice, screaming loudly, faded away along the palace corridors.
Only when he could no longer hear any more sound did Arkan sigh deeply and touch his forehead.
“Your Majesty, are you okay?”
“No.”
Plat made a pitiful expression for a moment.
“Shall I bring you a cup of tea?”
“No, that’s enough. Did someone come from the Queen’s palace?”
“Miss Fiddler came by earlier. The Queen refused to see the palace doctor, but Miss Fiddler persuaded her to come and see him.”
I knew it. Arkan thought.
“You’ve made enemies with the palace doctor. Do you think you can just look at the palace without one part being cut off?”
Plat shook his head, imagining something terrible for a moment.
“It’s fortunate that Her Majesty the Queen is so brave. Don’t be so angry.”
Arkan glanced at Plat as if asking what was wrong.
After the failed assassination, Plat stopped saying bad things about Erdene.
Not only that, but he was even better than Belen Wiziard in that he would obey Erdene’s words no matter what.
Belen, who seemed to be so touched by the exciting beating that he thought of himself as Erdene’s personal aide, also fell into Erdene’s hands.
Just as he was about to get angry, the servant announced the arrival of a guest.
“Your Majesty, the Marquis of Ocre has requested an audience.”
It was not that Arkan didn’t know Montiel Zelma’s scheme was a scheme, but it was clear that he didn’t like the fact that Erdene’s plan worked so well and was efficient.
“Yes. If Your Majesty says so, who would refuse? Right?”
“Stop nagging and get on quickly.”
Erdene burst into laughter and climbed onto Arkan’s horse.
Arkan still had a discontented expression on his face, but he hugged her as if he was holding something precious, in case she slipped again, and started the horse.
“Your Highness Pelarhar, aren’t you going?”
The servant asked Pelarhar, who was standing blankly, watching the scene.
He suddenly came to his senses and looked back at the servant with a polite smile.
“No, I should go back.”
It was fortunate that no one saw the bitter and vain smile that passed across his face as he stepped on the stirrup and mounted his horse.
***
When he heard from the servant that Arkan had called him aside, Count Zelma’s stomach swelled like a tadpole.
He walked toward the King’s residence with a ridiculously confident stride, filled with the vain dream that his daughter would push Erdene out and take the Queen’s seat at any moment.
However, that hope was dashed in vain by Arkan’s one word: banish Montiel Zelma from the capital.
“That’s ridiculous!”
Count Zelma’s body trembled as if he had been hit by a cold wind as he shouted. He was about to rush to Arkan at any moment, but his steps froze at the sight of his cold expression, which he had never seen since his enthronement.
Arkan said,
“That’s ridiculous, what do you mean ridiculous? That your daughter, who has the guts to dare to be rude in front of me, the Queen, and the Duke of Sonnetum? Or that she tried to harm the Queen with a cheap trick and then cried as if she were the one who was hurt, Count?”
Count Zelma’s face, drained of blood, turned pale and then pale.
“Ti, Tiel would do something like that. Your Majesty, that’s impossible! My daughter is a child with a weak heart who can’t even kill an ant. There’s a misunderstanding...!”
“What misunderstanding? In this situation, does your claim that there was a misunderstanding mean nothing more than that the Queen framed your daughter?”
“Your Majesty, that’s not it...!"
The Count clearly remembered the day when his daughter had cried and made a fuss, saying that she had been embarrassed because of Erdene.
The Count, who had already been thinking badly of Erdene, kept thinking about it over and over again, and when he heard that Arkan was going horseback riding with the Queen, he thought that his chance had come.
There were not many people in the Vetor castle who looked favorably on Erdene.
Rather, more people were displeased or treated her like she did not exist, so this was the right time.
If rumors spread that the Queen had treated the official's daughter rudely and ignored her and that she had not shown leniency even when she asked for forgiveness, it would make public opinion about Erdene even more hostile.
When he heard the rumors, Arkan had not even come near the Queen's bedroom.
If his daughter were to become pregnant with the King's child while the Queen was hated so much, or at least become the most favored government official...
Arkan's sarcastic voice struck like a whip into the Count's ears as he looked at his plans that had completely fallen apart with eyes that could not believe them.
“Your daughter is your daughter, but I have something to tell you too. On my way back, I happened to meet the Privy Councilor, who told me that you had incited the Privy Council recorders to downplay the Queen’s achievements in the assassination by the messengers of Etonhorn and Kensilom. Is that true?”
“...Yes?”
“Do I have to repeat that again?”
Count Zelma’s mouth fell open. It seemed as if his lower jaw had completely fallen out.
He trembled like an aspen tree, and rolled his eyes here and there, mumbling.
“Your Majesty, that, that. That was me.”
“It was the Queen who realized that there were assassins that day and prepared measures to deal with them. But according to what you told the recorders, it was the officials who realized the conspiracy of the messengers that day, and the Queen only instructed them to write that they ‘presented gifts’ and ‘assisted the King in stopping the assassins.’ Is that true or not? Just tell me that.”
“Your Majesty, that is...”
“I told you to just tell me if it’s true or not!”
Arkan roared in anger.
Count Zelma, who had never seen the young King, who was usually flexible and quiet, explode in anger like this, hesitated and took a step back.
Count Zelma knew that tampering with royal records was clearly a serious crime.
However, the Count did not think that he was fabricating facts that he had not done or completely erasing what had happened, but only vaguely covering up the part about Erdene. He had prepared an excuse if word got out and he was questioned.
However, Arkan was so angry that his mind turned white. He could not even open his mouth, let alone make an excuse.
Arkan said,
“As of today, I will strip you of your position as a privy councilor and confiscate eight-tenths of the lands granted to the Count’s family. Also, you and all other direct members of the Counts are prohibited from entering the capital until royal permission is obtained.”
“Your Majesty!”
“One more thing. Your daughter, Montiel Zelma, boldly attempted to harm the Queen, so it would not be enough to immediately chain her and imprison her, but the Queen has forgiven her once, so she is specially pardoned. However, she cannot marry an official of the capital or any child of a noble family listed in the royal register. Remember that.”
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, no! I will be punished. Please forgive Tiel! I will not do such a thing again. Her Majesty, come, the Queen. Please let me speak to the Queen just once!”
Count Zelma desperately clung to Arkan as if he would grab his trouser leg.
However, Arkan simply shook him off with words.
“What difference would it make if you met the Queen? She has forgiven your daughter, but she is very upset right now. I do not want to see blood here. Even if it is the blood of a scoundrel like you.”
As Arkan nodded, Plat led the soldiers inside.
The soldiers grabbed the Count’s arms on both sides and forcibly dragged him along, trying to hold on with all their might.
“Your Majesty, no! It’s all a misunderstanding! Something is wrong! Your Majesty!”
Count Zelma’s voice, screaming loudly, faded away along the palace corridors.
Only when he could no longer hear any more sound did Arkan sigh deeply and touch his forehead.
“Your Majesty, are you okay?”
“No.”
Plat made a pitiful expression for a moment.
“Shall I bring you a cup of tea?”
“No, that’s enough. Did someone come from the Queen’s palace?”
“Miss Fiddler came by earlier. The Queen refused to see the palace doctor, but Miss Fiddler persuaded her to come and see him.”
I knew it. Arkan thought.
“You’ve made enemies with the palace doctor. Do you think you can just look at the palace without one part being cut off?”
Plat shook his head, imagining something terrible for a moment.
“It’s fortunate that Her Majesty the Queen is so brave. Don’t be so angry.”
Arkan glanced at Plat as if asking what was wrong.
After the failed assassination, Plat stopped saying bad things about Erdene.
Not only that, but he was even better than Belen Wiziard in that he would obey Erdene’s words no matter what.
Belen, who seemed to be so touched by the exciting beating that he thought of himself as Erdene’s personal aide, also fell into Erdene’s hands.
Just as he was about to get angry, the servant announced the arrival of a guest.
“Your Majesty, the Marquis of Ocre has requested an audience.”
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