KTMD - Chapter 137

After returning from Count Ruben's mansion, I lay in bed all day, covered with the blanket. Noah, who had returned from his outing, pulled the blanket away and sat me down.

He was so close our noses were brushing against each other, observing my expression. Feeling uncomfortably embarrassed, he turned his head and asked.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because it’s pretty.”

He folded the loose tie neatly, placed it on the console, and handed me a postcard with a purple dried flower attached.

“The bike thief asked me to give you this. I left it in the car.”

“Is she Johanna? She hasn’t written to me lately.”

"She must be busy. Remember that big plane you saw back then? She was practicing piloting it."

I nodded with a melancholy expression as I read the greeting on the postcard. Noah, who had been watching me quietly, rummaged through his square suitcase, seemingly taking something out, then thrust his clenched fist in front of my face.

“This is my gift. To make you feel better.”

“Is your fist a gift?”

“No way.”

With a faint laugh, he opened his fingers. The jeweled necklace, shining a brilliant green in the sunlight, slowly swayed before my eyes.

“It’s a gem called alexandrite.”

I thought he'd beat Erita with a fist closer to the law. I accepted it with a senseless thought.

“I think it’s some kind of emerald. It’s green.”

"A type of krill sovereign. It has two colors. Green in the sun, red under a light."

“Thank you, it’s pretty.”

“You're just like me. You're moody.”

Noah whispered as he placed the necklace around my neck. His warm breath tickled my ear as he drifted away. Was I really that kind of person? I stared at him silently, then blurted out a question I'd been harboring.

“You solved the rumor Erita was trying to spread, right?”

“Yeah. I hate scandals like that.”

After feeling profoundly helpless for several days, I realized I had a remarkably intelligent husband by my side. He would step in and resolve any issue directly affecting my health. Many of the issues he resolved were probably ones I didn't even know about. The thought of having someone on my side filled me with reassurance, but at the same time, it left me feeling a little bitter.

“Even Mastiff knows that I am the real Princess, so why don’t you tell the Queen?”

"So Renier Elliot figured that out, too. She's a talent we've wasted."

“Renier knew about it, but she didn’t tell the Queen. She said it would put me in danger.”

"That's right. Mastiff was trying to threaten me with that, and he actually did. He told me to come back. But he won't reveal it or anything."

“Yeah. Actually, it seems like it’s the same everywhere.”

"If I go there, it's obvious you'll become a hostage. He intends to use you to manipulate and control me."

Isn't this place the same? I bit my lip, recalling the Queen's subtle threats. Noah would have risked his safety in a deal with the Queen, so it would be the same. If he thought this place was better, then he must be right.

“I no longer have confidence in my own choices.”

He gave a loose smile at the deep resignation in my voice.

“Are you blaming yourself?”

"... Yes."

"Why?"

“I think it turned out like this because I was acting half-heartedly.”

He spoke as he wrapped my hair around his fingers.

"I don't understand why you blame yourself. There's a beginning, a long time ago, before you say anything earlier."

"Yes."

"Original sin is Erita's. Both the cause and the effect stemmed from her. Isn't it contradictory that those who were meant to help are now blaming themselves for the cause?"

"Because I can't hold them responsible. I can't be free from that pain."

“Rather than sharing the blame for the mistake and dividing the guilt, we should make the person who committed the crime take full responsibility.”

Noah, who had taken my hand and intertwined his fingers, met my gaze intently. Unlike just now, when he had been talking about someone else's business, he now displayed a cautious air.

“It’s not your fault.”

It was a soothing, affectionate voice. Ironically, I wanted to hear those words. I tried to rationalize myself by belittling myself, saying I was simply too incompetent to help others, but at the same time, I also wanted to escape those very thoughts.

“I am bad.”

“I like that.”

“The truth is, I’m so angry that Erita doesn’t suffer any punishment or pain, but instead feels victorious.”

"I see."

“Because of that one person, many people are unhappy and suffering... It’s so unfair that only the perpetrator is happy.”

"At least she won't be happy. Because what she wants most, she can never get, even if she dies."

I raised the corners of my mouth at Noah's words, but his expression didn't seem to change as he asked with a sullen face.

“What should I do to prevent the Princess from getting more upset?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just kill them? You're even making a kill list.”

“A murder list?”

I think he's talking about the notebook where I recorded the personal information and names of the people who had been picking on me during the memorial ceremony.

“I remembered everything.”

He smiled, his nose cocked in triumph. I shook my head vigorously, not wanting to make myself the culprit in an unsolved serial murder case.

"It's not a murder list. I just wanted to know what Erita's intentions were, so I investigated. Back then, I thought I could do something about it."

"The Princess isn't weak. You can do anything. You simply chose a dignified approach, one that was too much for a mere mortal. It was just a mistake, wasn't it?"

He added, brushing my hair away.

"If you don't like it, you can always get rid of it. The means and methods don't matter. The results are what matter. The weak are bound by the legal framework and can't transcend the limitations of their means. That's a privilege granted only to the powerful. If you change your mind about wanting to be ordinary like everyone else, just tell me."

Perhaps "ordinary" here meant the weak. The "ordinary" I'm talking about isn't that. It's about being completely uninvolved in all the conflicts that arise around me.

Noah was reminding me that I have the choice to judge someone.

Suddenly, the massive bomber Johanna was supposed to pilot came to mind. The direction it would take might depend on my choice.

“I guess I just have to change my mind.”

Noah nodded at my low, almost soliloquial voice. His silver-white hair swayed gently.

If the world doesn't change, then I should change. Putting aside ethics and morality, I should do it my own way. Even if it's not justice that leads others to enlightenment beyond the hill, but rather malicious revenge and dirty retribution. Ultimately, it will be a form of good triumphing over evil, so isn't that also justice?

I am far from the protagonist of a sad melodrama.

I realized that the resentment and anger I felt for being powerless and weak were delusions. I had acted like a saint, uncomplainingly patient and generous. Why had I been so caught up in such things? Was it because I wanted to experience a new life in a new world? In fact, it was no different than that. I've finally found a proper smile again.

"I don't like killing people indiscriminately. I want to live with a minimum level of conscience as a human being. But if they cross the line, I'll do it. Either destroy this place or tear it down."

“Yeah, what is that line?”

"You're dying. You're the only thing I have, so I have nothing to lose. It doesn't matter if others die or the world ends. That would be the end of my humanity."

Having met a tragic end, I, too, have no reason to remain in this world. Noah's gaze, fixed on the lips that spoke metaphors of uniqueness and loss, slowly drifted, meeting my sharp eyes.

“The end of humanity?”

"As you said, I decided not to think about anyone but myself. That's how I survived. I'm not good at helping others. My clumsy mistakes often make things worse. So, I usually just live without caring. So, the bare minimum I can do is neither help nor harm others. But as long as they don't hurt me first."

All the misfortunes that shatter my ordinary and stable routine have originated from others. I simply cannot tolerate anyone intruding upon my carefully constructed glass castle.

Noah's cloudy blue eyes, looking at me, swayed like waves swaying in the wind. It soon turned into a frenzied joy.

“I like it.”

He smiled brightly, his mouth uncovered. His teeth were neatly aligned, and the corners of his mouth were gently turned up. His eyes were flushed red, and he smiled with joy. A faint sense of satisfaction passed through me, knowing he had finally achieved his goal of cutting me off from the influence of others.

“I hope no one touches you, treats you badly, or tries to change you.”

His round lips delicately touched the back of my hand as if paying homage.

“Because you are my queen, my ruler.”

His eyes revealed his corrupted desires without a trace, narrowed and curved like the moon. Suddenly, my vision flipped upside down. His languid, sweet voice, as he held me helplessly captive in his embrace, filled my ears.

“Let’s think only of each other. As if we were the only two people left in the world.”

***

Betty Nielsen, the housekeeper (hereafter referred to as the defendant), harbored ill feelings toward the victim, Ayla Delson. She repeatedly called her "mistress" and "prostitute," inflicting mental distress on her, and repeatedly struck her in the face and head, treating her inhumanely. Furthermore, she was caught embezzling and failing to pay the wages of some of her employees on several occasions. This is confirmed by the testimony of the defendant's husband, Jeremy Nielsen...

I locked myself in my study and read the papers that Countess Reuben had given me.

It said "Maid," but it actually contained Erita's actions. I read through it carefully, but I lacked the confidence to read all the pages of violence, verbal abuse, and cruelty. The more I read, the more disillusioned I became, and I turned away. I could almost feel the emotional agony Renier endured, because I felt like I was about to become depressed. I overcame all the painful processes and opened the last chapter, the page where the story ended. The light flickered repeatedly, as if it were time to change it. An inexplicable emotion surged through me, and my ears became heavy.

"Given the testimony of fractured legs, bruises and cuts on the body, and fractured ribs and collarbone, it is highly likely that the pregnant victim's mental state and decision-making ability were impaired and lost due to the prolonged assault, insulting language, and other harsh acts. Therefore, considering that the defendant drove two lives to the brink of suicide through serious human rights violations, that she tarnished the honor of the royal family as the head maid of the palace, and that numerous palace workers, including Princess Elita Spencer Grace, submitted a petition calling for severe punishment, the court applies the crime of "murder by instigation or aiding and abetting suicide" and sentences the defendant to the maximum sentence of death."

"Haha."

I held up the paper with the verdict written on it and let out a hollow laugh.

"A crime of human rights violation worthy of the death penalty? They're probably going to bury it with a double."

The room was as silent as a darkroom, yet I was tormented by all sorts of noises. Ayla's suffering, densely written across more than ten pages, culminated in a single sentence: a death sentence for the double, not the real culprit. Yet, I felt no desire to request a reinvestigation or raise an objection to change the situation. The Countess's advice—that I would be next in line to face the absurd—came to mind.

“Even if we cannot change the world with justice or goodness.”

I muttered to myself as I threw the papers with unpleasant endings into the fireplace.

"You can ruin a person's life with evil. Especially the one who is the mastermind."

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