“Her residence is still closed to the public.”
"Yes."
It's been a week since the news broke that Rosenite had awakened from her magical hibernation. But I hadn't even seen a lock of Rosenite's hair in all that time.
Desmond II strictly prohibited anyone other than maids and healers from entering her and kept Rosenite's condition hidden.
The situation was such that many healers and curse casters had given up on taking action, and were coming out of hibernation. For those who believed that the dragon Ambroxa had cursed her, it would have been necessary to be alert and attentive to Rosenite's condition.
But it was strange to realize that a day later, two days later, a week later, the lockdown was still in place. It even included her biological mother, Empress Cornelia, and her brother, the 7th Prince Rondel.
It is said that Desmond II locked her in her room because Rosenite was suffering from madness.
The source was the healers and witch doctors who had been in and out of Rosenite's chambers. Even with a gag order in place, outsiders were not easily silenced.
'She must have had a nightmare, she kept muttering things I couldn't understand. What did she say? That she was crazy to pretend to be two of the strongest men in the world...'
'Shee seemed so unstable, one minute she was screaming in bed, hugging her pillow and crying, the next she was lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling in a daze, and the next she was in a constant state of... pain.'
'One day, she suddenly wanted to forget everything and banged her head against the wall...'
'There was even a time when she climbed up the window sill, saying that this life was hopeless.'
All of them consistently described the behavior of a crazy person. Even the handmaidens who had been in and out of her quarters did not deny it, but merely followed her orders. This made her mania almost a foregone conclusion.
'The situation seems serious. I want to check it out myself, but I wonder when the entry restrictions will be lifted.'
The wait was anxious. I briefly considered sneaking into Rosenite's room, but the impulse was not motivated by the need to confirm the success of the imprint.
'She has weak mental strength to begin with, but is she okay?'
At this point, I decided to admit honestly that she was worried about Rosenite, perhaps because I had developed feelings for her.
It was then that Cedella, watching my gloomy mood carefully, brought news.
“Food?”
“Yes. Her Highness the Eight Princess has been abstaining from food for a long time, so her appetite may have suddenly returned, but... Still, I don't think that's a good sign.”
"Yes."
I was lost in thought. As expected, I couldn't make a proper judgment just by hearing fragmentary stories.
'I wish the entry restrictions would be lifted soon. No, if only the child could come out for a walk.'
I swallowed a sigh and stood up. It was time to slowly leave the bedroom and get ready.
Let's go to the powder room, where Lian and Peony were waiting, having finished getting ready.
Lian reported as I handed her a towel as I finished washing my face.
The eighteen, now seventeen, children, still in groups of four or five, went to pay their respects to their father, King Desmond II. It was a weekly routine for the royal family, and I was unimpressed.
“The day after tomorrow, you will be joined by the First Prince, the Fourth Princess, the Sixth Princess, and the Eighth Princess.”
My mind was blown. Rubio, Hesia, and Stefania are all fine, but the last one was extraordinary.
“The 8th Princess? Even Rosie?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Are you sure, Lian?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I've double-checked, but the chamberlain said it was definitely the Eighth Princess.”
The information Cedella had brought was significant. To my relief, Rosenite seemed to have regained some measure of composure.
“Then,” a slightly trembling voice came from my mouth.
“We'll see Rosie the day after tomorrow.”
The room hasn't smelled as strongly of perfume lately. This was entirely due to the owner's noble hobby.
Brigitte's deft fingertips held flower and grass water, and she had been decapitating roses for three hours now, soaking them in perfume poured into a marble tub.
But the suffocating scent was the one thing that defined Brigitte's head. Within the arrogant walls of her room, she sank into grim contemplation. She took stock of her current situation.
This weakened the aristocratic faction that had supported Brigitte in central politics and permanently lost one of its main sources of illicit political funding.
Calculating the direct and indirect damage, it was estimated that Brigitte's political standing in the imperial court and in the capital would have been reduced by a third.
Who Brigitte is. She's been at the top of the actual line of succession to the throne for a long time. In terms of sheer years, it's been more than a decade since she's been training with the clear goal of becoming the Empress.
Her dominant position as the front-runner was not easily usurped by a junior runner who had only begun to catch up to her three seasons earlier.
As proof of this, Brigitte had the Marquis of Belteor, who was already engaged to be married by blood to the Marquis of Lamekal.
The Marquis of Lamekal was the first of the three crowns of the capital, and his two sons were appointed to the Treasury, which oversaw the empire's finances, where they often favored certain nobles or inflated the budget unnecessarily.
The youngest daughter, the Marquis's favorite, was placed in an inner court agency in charge of imperial commissions, where she worked day and night to prevent fraudulent reviews and grant preferential treatment.
In addition, relatives served as imperial court officials, facilitating tax portals and embezzlement, both legal and illegal.
Belteo was the leader of the southern military-industrial alliance.
With a historic war on the horizon, it didn't hurt to have the full support and backing of the South.
As long as the goal of making their third son Antonio Emperor and using him as a bridgehead into politics remained valid, Brigitte and Belteor would remain united.
'Of course, I'll have to get rid of them after I ascend to the throne.'
War was a chance to gain power, but it was also a chance to make a lot of money. The South, which was responsible for the production of war materials, was sure to explode with economic growth.
'Let's keep Antonio alive. I'm a Princess, and he's my consort, so it won't hurt to keep him alive.'
Belteor's desire to enter central politics was driven by his desire to elevate his family name. The empire traditionally honored tattoos above martial deities. Military supplies were naturally considered martial, as they were related to war.
Now that they've brought them back to the capital in droves, they should be able to fill in the gaps left by the Chansley.
There was still one shot left to blow away all the failures: the busting of the Magic stone mine, the Great Fire of the 13th District, and the busting of the human trafficking cartel.
War is a tool of politics. Many rulers throughout history have used war to resolve internal conflicts and gain power, as well as external problems.
A war with a clear cause and purpose seemed like an opportunity designed for Brigitte. No matter how you look at it, she was the only one of the imperial family who was fit to lead Homunculus as commander-in-chief.
"Why on earth can't you be like Eve?"
Woozikkun!
In her hands, the stem of the rose was mercilessly snapped. The cigar, the only weapon the frail and beautiful being possessed, dug into Brigitte's palm, blood redder than the petals trickling down her wrist.
“That’s because Father doesn’t know anything.”
As commander-in-chief of the war of attrition, and as the next Emperor to lead the empire, there was no one more qualified than herself. From the time she was a young girl, she'd been striving for the throne with blood, sweat, and tears.
'I am the ideal monarch, willing to sacrifice a cow for the greater good, willing to do whatever it takes to get there. Eve, if you can play the good guy, who can't?
A bad monarch is a good monarch. Brigitte had never forgotten the teachings of the art of monarchy until today.
Just as every sinner has his own circumstances, every wicked person has his own justice.
“Evienrose.”
“It’s just beginning.”
A strange color has taken root in the cold walls.
It was the light of madness.
'What the Empire needs is Brigitte Agnes Hadelamide.'
Brigitte smiled and crushed the petals, she was thinking of her sassy half-sister right now.
Right now, Eve had only just beaten Chansley, and she was celebrating, thinking it was over. But she wasn't done yet.
A strange color has taken root in the cold walls.
It was the light of madness.
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