Savage Castle - Chapter 2



The King softly hummed to Liena, who was staring at the bed. He warned her as he threw her out of the bedroom. Liena pretended not to hear and did not respond. Even as she left the bedroom and walked down the hallway with the King, the messy bed loomed before her eyes. She felt the urge to drag the girl out and trample her until her bones were crushed. However...

“Yes. I won’t look for it.”

There were plenty of opportunities for that. Once the King found his throne. And that day was not far away. As she turned the corridor and headed for the stairs, she paused for a moment and looked at the King’s broad back. The sight of him wearing an old shirt that even a stableman would not have worn in the royal palace was irritating. Of course, no matter what he wore, he could not hide his natural charm.

His broad shoulders and muscular physique were not only handsome as a man but also elegant and noble. Thus, the King was more charming than anyone else in the castle.

'When will he be able to return to his original form?'

She lowered her gaze as she walked. Sir Oscar said that day would not be far away, but she could not bear it. If it were not for that filthy bastard, neither the King nor Liena would have come to this small and insignificant estate.

Even though 13 years had passed since she began staying in this castle, Liena could not like a single blade of grass or flower in this castle. This was the castle of the Viscount Roate, a place where only the most incompetent and disgustingly vile people, both animals and people, gathered. From the Viscount Roate to his wife, no one was disgusting, but the one Liena could not stand the most was the Viscount's daughter, Else. She could not stand that woman. No. She loathed and hated her.

'Still, there isn't much left.'

Yes. There isn't much left. Liena turned her head and looked at the young sunlight through the round window. The King will return to his place. Providence is not reversed. Everything in the world is destined to return to its original state. Liena believed only in that providence and lived in this remote village for 13 years. She endured and persevered.

Now, she really wanted to reap the fruits. She wanted to live a life that was worthy of life, not just harvest the fruits and endure the rest of her life. Liena turned her head and saw that the King had disappeared. She recalled the past that overlapped without fail.

It was the story of the day when the King took off his crown for the first time.

***

The eldest son of King Pitroi V and Queen Bonaparte. The knight of storm and lightning. The rightful ruler of the Tulks and the Deltas, the boy King of Travasta, Sibyll III, was the protector of Travasta and, like all Kings of Travasta, the supreme, and eternal King. The King ascended to the throne at the age of six when his father, Pitroi V, died in the Aden War and soon became the glory of Travasta. It was 13 years ago, on a windy night, that the man who was the glory of Travasta lost his palace and walked honorably to Lugdun.

Philip, the half-brother of Pitroi, was the illegitimate son of his father, Henry III, and his mistress, Roxelana, and thus had no rightful claim to the throne. However, he was the favored son of his father, and through this favor, he became the Duke of Aspayol, one of the major trading ports of Travasta. It would have been better if his father's favor had remained just that. When his eldest son, Pitroy, died in battle, he began to have his eyes on the throne.

However, the nobles of Travasta were those who showed contempt and disgust only to those who did not know their place. Philip, who was recognized as an illegitimate child and became the Duke of Aspayol, one of the three major trading ports of Travasta, was a man who enjoyed luxury beyond his means. But how could he harbor a desire that should not be allowed to take the throne, which only the eldest son could inherit?

He was a man who should be thrown as fodder for a dog that has torn limbs apart. Of all those who opposed him, the most angry one was Josef, Duke of Krais, a veteran who had assisted King Henry since his youth. The Duke was Henry's close friend until his death and a knight who had spent half his life on the battlefield as a great axis leading Travasta.

A man as honest as he was loyal, he became a prime minister after the death of Henry by being chosen by Pitroi, and after his death, he led Pitroi's young son to the throne and became the shield of the royal family. However, one night before the storm hit hard, Joseph died suddenly and the King took off his crown for the first time and wore civilian clothes.

Liena sometimes trembled at the humiliation, unable to bear it. It was the same even though it had been more than ten years. The day the King took off his crown for the first time. He was calm. As usual, he was emotionless and calm. He didn’t look back at the palace while riding his horse. While Liena was crying and whining in anger, the King had a calm expression on his face, as if he had just gone out for a while.

He was neither afraid nor angry. It was not that he did not have a desire to get it back. That cold surface. The unwavering eyes. There was only sadness on his face soaked in rain. Strangely, the cloak that covered him and the sword on his waist looked solemn. Liena did not cry anymore.

With the help of Sir Oscar, the confidant of the Duke of Touro, the two escaped the royal capital of Siena and barely managed to escape to the Travasta border with his help. The Count was a comrade who shared life and death with the Duke of Touro on the battlefield after his sudden death, and he followed the Duke of Touro's will and devoted himself to accompanying the King, including searching for the King's residence.

But fortnight. Philip's net was tight. The King was thinking of running away again. But wasn't it already the limit? There was no more place to hide. Liena thought it would be better to hold out somehow. The Marquis of Aperato was the main Count of Travasta and was recognized for his military power and autonomy more widely than the nobles of the center. The Marquis of Aperato, who constantly reinforced the military in preparation for an invasion, could become a strong ally of the King.

'I have to hold on. Somehow...'

It seemed as if tears were about to leak out from the gap between the lips of her mouth. The King was looking at her expressionlessly.

'It's time to pass the buck.'

The King was unshaken even then. He was calm and serene. Even when he fell, the King had the same face. So when he leaped, he would have the same face. Rise and fall. Expansion and contraction. Anger and fear. Trouble and anxiety. Among the many things she had to recognize and endure, the King was the abyss. He simply converged and judged what was next.

There was no reservation of decision. Unlike Liena, who had not been able to drink a single sip of water since escaping the palace, there was no sign of heartbreak in the King. He could have been a dog with its tail down, saying that he would wait until next time. However, the King still had everything in her eyes.

A night without a single star. On the castle porch, he was still the glory and guardian of the kingdom. No. He was still the glory and guardian of the kingdom. Her King could not decline. Her flame. Her sun... So it would be okay to uproot him and offer everything.

So Liena became a slave to slaves. She became a slave who washed slaves' bodies and feet and survived in that filthy rat hole. So now it was time to enjoy the fruits of her labor. She was just about to win the lottery in the King's long-planned plan. So this provocation from a girl was nothing, but seeing her naked and wrapped in a single sheet of blanket made her feel nauseous.

“Where is Ian?”

The girl asked. Liena lowered her gaze. The King's alias was 'Ian'. Originally, he was a black dog, and after Viscount Roate bought him, he became a servant of the castle, and the Viscount's daughter named him Ian. It was a name that many knights had.

It was better than a black dog, but the ridiculous nickname given by the ridiculous woman was irritating. Well, there was nothing about this woman that didn't irritate her.

“I don’t know.”

“If you don’t know, who will?”

It was a poisonous voice. It did not match her neat face. It was a sensitivity that did not match her delicate beauty. Liena fixed her gaze on the floor so as not to show an irritated expression. Having lived as a slave for over ten years, she was quite used to imitating a servant, but she could not imitate it in front of this woman.

"Sorry."

“Where are he really?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re hiding it!”

The girl screamed. Her ears rang with the loud, booming sound. Her eardrums felt like they were throbbing. Liena bit her lower lip to keep herself from twisting her lips. Else, seeing that, thought it was a rebellion and started to squirm.

“Do you think I’m funny?”

"...No."

“It’s funny. Everyone here, everyone...”

The woman who had been breathing heavily in the field staggered to her feet. Liena looked up and observed her. She had no hand in her. She never held a whip like the nobles who were annoying her, but the girl often threw things.

Was it just throwing things? Suddenly, she picked up a vase, a pillow, a wooden seal, and the like and hit the head or the cheek. Although her grip was weak, judging by the way she tried to scratch so viciously, it was extremely vicious.

A sickly, thin woman who would pull out the hair and ears of her maids. She had seen ill-tempered noblewomen in the capital, but even though there were noblewomen who would beat their masters, this was the first time Liena had seen such a hairless woman.

The sight of her flexing her weak fists and raising her claws like a cornered cat completely disappeared when she saw her throwing a tantrum while swearing.


Previous                Next



Support Novellate!

        Buy Me A Coffee

Comments