"Princess Erita Spencer Grace's violent behavior and conduct, and numerous criminal records. Suspicions that the innocent head maid was executed for the poisoning of a palace maid have been persistently raised by the Reuben family, who adopted the victim. There are also suspicions of collusion with a high-ranking official of the Belford Empire in the past. If these issues become public knowledge in this chaotic situation, it will cause great confusion in the public sphere."
At Prime Minister Stanley's stern words, some of the ministers of state and members of the House of Lords gathered in the Royal Conference Hall nodded in agreement. They were the Queen's loyal followers. The Queen, with her haggard, sleep-deprived demeanor, held her forehead in a worried expression.
“I have turned a blind eye and pretended not to know until now, but as Your Majesty’s loyal subject, I can no longer ignore it.”
The problems that had been covered up for so long were suddenly released like a burst dam. Prime Minister Stanley was the second most influential figure in the country after the Queen. One of the Princess's long-serving maids, fearing that Eliza's experience could become her own, approached the powerful Prime Minister and volunteered to testify, detailing Eliza's innocence and grievances, as well as the Princess's atrocities and outrageous acts. Gagging and secrecy oaths were useless. Queen Grace, who knew it was a ticking time bomb, tried to stall for as long as possible, but struggled to maintain composure, her face tinged with bewilderment and despair. Because of Erita, even the royal family was facing national condemnation.
“Your Majesty, a monarch must be fair and just.”
“I know very well, Prime Minister Stanley.”
“The Princess's criminal behavior and mental illness are fatal flaws that lower the nation's prestige and threaten even Your Majesty's position.”
The Queen's crimson lips curled into a slit. Given her crucial role, bearing the nation's fate, the family's history of mental illness was a significant flaw. It was so pernicious that other royal families, holding the right to succession, questioned not only Erita's eligibility for the throne but also her biological mother, the Queen, and attempted to interfere in state affairs by raising suspicions of mental illness.
“I plan to send the Princess to the monastery.”
"If that were the solution, we wouldn't have created this position. Hiding and covering up what's rotten won't eliminate the stench of corruption. I plead with you, staking my position as Prime Minister and my title on it: You must depose the Princess immediately. In the midst of a world war, it's time to make a bold decision, even if it means considering the safety of our nation."
Prime Minister Stanley's eyes shone with a steely intensity as he delivered his most sound advice for the Crown and the nation. It was a stern warning: if you didn't, many members of the House of Lords, including the Prime Minister, would resign. The House of Lords, as the Queen's supporters, was a crucial force.
“Moreover, the capitalist forces collaborating with Medea may withdraw their funds and turn their backs, fearing a decline in the value of currency and government bonds.”
It was the Prime Minister's quiet comment. The Queen, facing the threat of losing much, let out a heavy sigh. Another minister added.
"Your Majesty is still young. If the Princess, the sole heir to the House of Spencer, were to be deposed, you would appoint a new successor."
"A letter of resignation." The Queen replied, leaning back in her chair with a hollow smile.
“You know very well that I don’t keep a state letter.”
"It's difficult to cling to the throne without a royal seal or successor, insisting on personal opinions. It's an indispensable element for a monarch."
“Personal, private opinion, stubbornness.”
The Queen, who had been slowly chewing on the minister's words, stared at him with a blank face.
"Sir, you said I was still young. Even if I had an heir, I wouldn't hand over the throne until I die. Has the royal seal or the presence of an heir ever mattered in securing this throne? Medea has developed into a world-class, advanced nation, on a level different from other nations. This island's rise to colonial power and global dominance was my judgment: to acquire numerous colonies, absorb weaker nations on the condition of peace and protection, and indiscriminately embrace the world's talents and cultures. Wasn't that so?"
The Queen smiled gently, but secretly seemed displeased, and set down her teacup with a clank. The other ministers and council members, including the one who had mentioned the state letter and the successor, lowered their eyes and remained silent, awestruck by a sense of awe. The Queen, rising with a dignified air, remained smiling.
"I know full well that you, my loyal subjects, are concerned about me. If you have any doubts about my decisions and judgment, feel free to offer your opinions at any time. I respect your opinions and will respectfully accept them. Deposing the Princess is also an acceptable and legitimate opinion. To me, the successor is the continuation of the Spencer family lineage—nothing more, nothing less."
Suddenly, the Queen's green eyes flashed like a beast's. Her eerie, subdued gaze, her increasingly authoritative voice, contained an omnipotent warning, unobjectionable and unanswerable.
"However, if anyone sees this as an opportunity to underestimate me and presumptuously challenge the King's authority, they will end up like the countless nations that have defied me. Ah, humans are different from nations, so they will bow down to me. I am the King of Medea and the Emperor of a colonial empire, a powerful being who pursues peace and seeks the ideal conqueror. All you have to do is trust and follow me as you have done so far."
Everyone except the Queen stood frozen in awe, their faces frozen in silence. The Queen smiled kindly.
“I will also believe in those of you who follow me.”
The Queen, heeding the advice of her loyalists, decided to depose Erita Spencer-Grace and confine her to a monastery. With the world war raging, the news of the first in line to the throne's abdication could have caused public unrest and undermined trust in the royal family, so she publicly stated that this was for Erita's recovery.
This house, formerly the mansion of Count Chloe, is now known as the Mansion of Count Rotsilt. The old gardener, who had tended the gardens here for years, completed a magnificent landscape in just two months, despite a long period of rest while the mansion was vacant. While the gardens are beautiful in the clear sunlight, the soft glow of garden lights placed throughout the gardens creates a dreamlike atmosphere, reminiscent of a midnight stroll.
I was lying in bed, admiring the view of the night garden through the open window. The sound of the wind rustling the leaves died down for a moment, then the chirping of insects grew louder. It sounded like a lullaby, and just as my eyelids were about to close, Noah's hand gently stroked my hair.
“Ah.”
His fingers brushed against my sensitive earlobe, and I let out an involuntary, embarrassed sound. I quickly feigned a yawn to make up for it, insisting I hadn't intended to make such a sound.
“Honey, are you sleepy?”
His face, knowingly asking, was so close. I froze, my mouth awkwardly open, yawning. It's been months since I married Noah, but I still can't quite believe it. Especially when he looks at me with that seductive, sensual expression, his eyes drowsily relaxed, just before falling asleep. That pretty man is my husband?
"...No."
He lay down next to me, his high, straight-soled nose bobbing up and down as he stared up at the ceiling. A faint snort escaped my lips. I was struck by the sculpted beauty of his profile, and as I glanced at him, my husband, a sly man, suddenly turned his head towards me. He met my eyes and smiled languidly.
“Why do you always peek?”
“When am I?”
"Why do you know everything?" Embarrassed, I brushed his bangs back. His breath and our faces became closer. Our noses were almost brushing, and he lowered his eyes and whispered languidly.
“You can look at it as much as you want.”
My back arched and my cheeks flushed as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and stroked my back with the other hand. I couldn't understand why my heart still pounded like a drum throughout my body. I should be a little more detached now, but I couldn't resist that man's characteristically decadent and elegant aura. In particular, the languid, sexy voice, which scraped deep in his throat and mixed with his husky breath, filled half of that atmosphere. Before I knew it, my eyes were drawn to his plump, rosy lips.
He was beautiful even at night. His silvery hair, bathed in faint moonlight, and his eyes, azure like the night sea, were a work of art. The shadows made his features appear even more distinct. The plump aegyo-sal folds beneath his eyes, the dimples that flare, the corners of his mouth where the shadow of a smile curls into a round shape.
Anyway, that guy is so nice.
“You’re pretty.”
It wasn't me, but Noah who had kissed my cheek. It was merely a pure expression of affection, but my mind had already reached adulthood, and my body, so honest, was instantly aroused. The man, noticing my sensitivity to even the slightest touch, raised the corners of his mouth and narrowed his eyes. He laid his lips against mine, as if he knew everything without me having to say it out loud.
His hand touched my shoulder, and the silk gown flowed smoothly down my shoulders. The cool summer night air cooled my skin for a moment, but his warm breath and moist lips touched me, making me feel hot again. I gently grasped his soft hair with both hands and hugged him as he buried his face in my arms.
"Honey."
As I was becoming hazy with joy, I could faintly hear Noah's wet voice.
“Don’t leave me.”
I couldn't see his expression clearly as he pressed his cheek against my chest and hugged my back, but I felt a sense of sadness. I gently stroked Noah's handsome jawline and suddenly asked what he meant, but he didn't answer for a long time.
"Noah, are you telling me not to serve as head maid? Even though the Queen is my biological mother, you're the only one I consider family."
"No, that's your choice. You're just taking my word for it, but ultimately, you decide according to your own will. I'll simply follow that will. Unless you leave me or break up with me."
"I don't think about that. The reason I want to become a maid is that I want to live here with you in a stable way."
My choice was leaning toward becoming the Queen's handmaiden. To protect Noah, who might be forced into war, I decided to volunteer as the person the Queen needed.
"Together."
I muttered dreamily in the darkness where the moonlight had been withdrawn.
The next day, I heard news that a ship carrying imported goods was arriving for the first time in a while, so I headed to the port with Noah, intending to buy some fruit and spices. After the free passage was closed, ships carrying supplies were only allowed to dock under strict security and with limited access. Furthermore, taxes on imports, production, and consumption due to the war had multiplied the prices of imported food, beverages, and other goods. As a result, ordinary citizens, finding it difficult to purchase imported goods, crowded the docks, craning their necks to watch.
"Honey, there's an auction on that ship. I hear impoverished nobles from other countries are putting up lots of items. Shall we go take a look?"
A large, luxurious ship was anchored in the direction Noah had pointed. I nodded with a look of great interest.
"Great."
"I'll buy you some pretty earrings. They were pretty to see every time you brushed your hair back."
“What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.”
Noah, who had been thinking deeply with his chin tilted high in response to my question, looked at me and smiled.
“I have diamond-set platinum cufflinks.”
The man doesn't refuse. It must be very expensive. He has a discerning eye, so he'll likely only select expensive, precious items. I stare at him with regret, but he doesn't seem to have any intention of rejecting me.
“It looks cool when worn on a shirt sleeve.”
“I think it would look cool even if you didn’t do it.”
“It will be cooler if I do it.”
He seemed quite cheerful, so I didn't try to persuade him further. His silvery hair, bathed in sunlight, shimmered. With that gorgeous hair and handsome appearance, he didn't really need any accessories. Just as I was about to board the ship, with these pointless thoughts, a familiar presence passed by, sending a shiver down my spine. The figure that passed in that brief moment was a tall, middle-aged man with blue eyes and platinum hair, wearing a navy coat and a fedora.
I felt the feeling and atmosphere were similar to Admiral Claire. But in this place overflowing with refugees and immigrants, those eyes and hair color were commonplace. Unlike him, who always paid attention to his attire and dignity, he had a bushy beard, and despite his imposing presence, his body was thin and wooden. I dismissed him as a mere lookalike and turned my head indifferently. He was already suffering and tormenting enough from losing Celine due to his own mistake, so I didn't even think about the troublesome act of seeking him out and seeking revenge.
Later, I would revisit this moment countless times, regretting it so much I wish I could turn back time. He was the cause, the process, and the result of my irreversible misfortune.
I should have killed the man who called my father a long time ago.
At Prime Minister Stanley's stern words, some of the ministers of state and members of the House of Lords gathered in the Royal Conference Hall nodded in agreement. They were the Queen's loyal followers. The Queen, with her haggard, sleep-deprived demeanor, held her forehead in a worried expression.
“I have turned a blind eye and pretended not to know until now, but as Your Majesty’s loyal subject, I can no longer ignore it.”
The problems that had been covered up for so long were suddenly released like a burst dam. Prime Minister Stanley was the second most influential figure in the country after the Queen. One of the Princess's long-serving maids, fearing that Eliza's experience could become her own, approached the powerful Prime Minister and volunteered to testify, detailing Eliza's innocence and grievances, as well as the Princess's atrocities and outrageous acts. Gagging and secrecy oaths were useless. Queen Grace, who knew it was a ticking time bomb, tried to stall for as long as possible, but struggled to maintain composure, her face tinged with bewilderment and despair. Because of Erita, even the royal family was facing national condemnation.
“Your Majesty, a monarch must be fair and just.”
“I know very well, Prime Minister Stanley.”
“The Princess's criminal behavior and mental illness are fatal flaws that lower the nation's prestige and threaten even Your Majesty's position.”
The Queen's crimson lips curled into a slit. Given her crucial role, bearing the nation's fate, the family's history of mental illness was a significant flaw. It was so pernicious that other royal families, holding the right to succession, questioned not only Erita's eligibility for the throne but also her biological mother, the Queen, and attempted to interfere in state affairs by raising suspicions of mental illness.
“I plan to send the Princess to the monastery.”
"If that were the solution, we wouldn't have created this position. Hiding and covering up what's rotten won't eliminate the stench of corruption. I plead with you, staking my position as Prime Minister and my title on it: You must depose the Princess immediately. In the midst of a world war, it's time to make a bold decision, even if it means considering the safety of our nation."
Prime Minister Stanley's eyes shone with a steely intensity as he delivered his most sound advice for the Crown and the nation. It was a stern warning: if you didn't, many members of the House of Lords, including the Prime Minister, would resign. The House of Lords, as the Queen's supporters, was a crucial force.
“Moreover, the capitalist forces collaborating with Medea may withdraw their funds and turn their backs, fearing a decline in the value of currency and government bonds.”
It was the Prime Minister's quiet comment. The Queen, facing the threat of losing much, let out a heavy sigh. Another minister added.
"Your Majesty is still young. If the Princess, the sole heir to the House of Spencer, were to be deposed, you would appoint a new successor."
"A letter of resignation." The Queen replied, leaning back in her chair with a hollow smile.
“You know very well that I don’t keep a state letter.”
"It's difficult to cling to the throne without a royal seal or successor, insisting on personal opinions. It's an indispensable element for a monarch."
“Personal, private opinion, stubbornness.”
The Queen, who had been slowly chewing on the minister's words, stared at him with a blank face.
"Sir, you said I was still young. Even if I had an heir, I wouldn't hand over the throne until I die. Has the royal seal or the presence of an heir ever mattered in securing this throne? Medea has developed into a world-class, advanced nation, on a level different from other nations. This island's rise to colonial power and global dominance was my judgment: to acquire numerous colonies, absorb weaker nations on the condition of peace and protection, and indiscriminately embrace the world's talents and cultures. Wasn't that so?"
The Queen smiled gently, but secretly seemed displeased, and set down her teacup with a clank. The other ministers and council members, including the one who had mentioned the state letter and the successor, lowered their eyes and remained silent, awestruck by a sense of awe. The Queen, rising with a dignified air, remained smiling.
"I know full well that you, my loyal subjects, are concerned about me. If you have any doubts about my decisions and judgment, feel free to offer your opinions at any time. I respect your opinions and will respectfully accept them. Deposing the Princess is also an acceptable and legitimate opinion. To me, the successor is the continuation of the Spencer family lineage—nothing more, nothing less."
Suddenly, the Queen's green eyes flashed like a beast's. Her eerie, subdued gaze, her increasingly authoritative voice, contained an omnipotent warning, unobjectionable and unanswerable.
"However, if anyone sees this as an opportunity to underestimate me and presumptuously challenge the King's authority, they will end up like the countless nations that have defied me. Ah, humans are different from nations, so they will bow down to me. I am the King of Medea and the Emperor of a colonial empire, a powerful being who pursues peace and seeks the ideal conqueror. All you have to do is trust and follow me as you have done so far."
Everyone except the Queen stood frozen in awe, their faces frozen in silence. The Queen smiled kindly.
“I will also believe in those of you who follow me.”
The Queen, heeding the advice of her loyalists, decided to depose Erita Spencer-Grace and confine her to a monastery. With the world war raging, the news of the first in line to the throne's abdication could have caused public unrest and undermined trust in the royal family, so she publicly stated that this was for Erita's recovery.
***
This house, formerly the mansion of Count Chloe, is now known as the Mansion of Count Rotsilt. The old gardener, who had tended the gardens here for years, completed a magnificent landscape in just two months, despite a long period of rest while the mansion was vacant. While the gardens are beautiful in the clear sunlight, the soft glow of garden lights placed throughout the gardens creates a dreamlike atmosphere, reminiscent of a midnight stroll.
I was lying in bed, admiring the view of the night garden through the open window. The sound of the wind rustling the leaves died down for a moment, then the chirping of insects grew louder. It sounded like a lullaby, and just as my eyelids were about to close, Noah's hand gently stroked my hair.
“Ah.”
His fingers brushed against my sensitive earlobe, and I let out an involuntary, embarrassed sound. I quickly feigned a yawn to make up for it, insisting I hadn't intended to make such a sound.
“Honey, are you sleepy?”
His face, knowingly asking, was so close. I froze, my mouth awkwardly open, yawning. It's been months since I married Noah, but I still can't quite believe it. Especially when he looks at me with that seductive, sensual expression, his eyes drowsily relaxed, just before falling asleep. That pretty man is my husband?
"...No."
He lay down next to me, his high, straight-soled nose bobbing up and down as he stared up at the ceiling. A faint snort escaped my lips. I was struck by the sculpted beauty of his profile, and as I glanced at him, my husband, a sly man, suddenly turned his head towards me. He met my eyes and smiled languidly.
“Why do you always peek?”
“When am I?”
"Why do you know everything?" Embarrassed, I brushed his bangs back. His breath and our faces became closer. Our noses were almost brushing, and he lowered his eyes and whispered languidly.
“You can look at it as much as you want.”
My back arched and my cheeks flushed as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and stroked my back with the other hand. I couldn't understand why my heart still pounded like a drum throughout my body. I should be a little more detached now, but I couldn't resist that man's characteristically decadent and elegant aura. In particular, the languid, sexy voice, which scraped deep in his throat and mixed with his husky breath, filled half of that atmosphere. Before I knew it, my eyes were drawn to his plump, rosy lips.
He was beautiful even at night. His silvery hair, bathed in faint moonlight, and his eyes, azure like the night sea, were a work of art. The shadows made his features appear even more distinct. The plump aegyo-sal folds beneath his eyes, the dimples that flare, the corners of his mouth where the shadow of a smile curls into a round shape.
#Note. Why I imagine Kim Bum in his curly hair as Noah???😅
Anyway, that guy is so nice.
“You’re pretty.”
It wasn't me, but Noah who had kissed my cheek. It was merely a pure expression of affection, but my mind had already reached adulthood, and my body, so honest, was instantly aroused. The man, noticing my sensitivity to even the slightest touch, raised the corners of his mouth and narrowed his eyes. He laid his lips against mine, as if he knew everything without me having to say it out loud.
His hand touched my shoulder, and the silk gown flowed smoothly down my shoulders. The cool summer night air cooled my skin for a moment, but his warm breath and moist lips touched me, making me feel hot again. I gently grasped his soft hair with both hands and hugged him as he buried his face in my arms.
"Honey."
As I was becoming hazy with joy, I could faintly hear Noah's wet voice.
“Don’t leave me.”
I couldn't see his expression clearly as he pressed his cheek against my chest and hugged my back, but I felt a sense of sadness. I gently stroked Noah's handsome jawline and suddenly asked what he meant, but he didn't answer for a long time.
"Noah, are you telling me not to serve as head maid? Even though the Queen is my biological mother, you're the only one I consider family."
"No, that's your choice. You're just taking my word for it, but ultimately, you decide according to your own will. I'll simply follow that will. Unless you leave me or break up with me."
"I don't think about that. The reason I want to become a maid is that I want to live here with you in a stable way."
My choice was leaning toward becoming the Queen's handmaiden. To protect Noah, who might be forced into war, I decided to volunteer as the person the Queen needed.
"Together."
I muttered dreamily in the darkness where the moonlight had been withdrawn.
***
The next day, I heard news that a ship carrying imported goods was arriving for the first time in a while, so I headed to the port with Noah, intending to buy some fruit and spices. After the free passage was closed, ships carrying supplies were only allowed to dock under strict security and with limited access. Furthermore, taxes on imports, production, and consumption due to the war had multiplied the prices of imported food, beverages, and other goods. As a result, ordinary citizens, finding it difficult to purchase imported goods, crowded the docks, craning their necks to watch.
"Honey, there's an auction on that ship. I hear impoverished nobles from other countries are putting up lots of items. Shall we go take a look?"
A large, luxurious ship was anchored in the direction Noah had pointed. I nodded with a look of great interest.
"Great."
"I'll buy you some pretty earrings. They were pretty to see every time you brushed your hair back."
“What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.”
Noah, who had been thinking deeply with his chin tilted high in response to my question, looked at me and smiled.
“I have diamond-set platinum cufflinks.”
The man doesn't refuse. It must be very expensive. He has a discerning eye, so he'll likely only select expensive, precious items. I stare at him with regret, but he doesn't seem to have any intention of rejecting me.
“It looks cool when worn on a shirt sleeve.”
“I think it would look cool even if you didn’t do it.”
“It will be cooler if I do it.”
He seemed quite cheerful, so I didn't try to persuade him further. His silvery hair, bathed in sunlight, shimmered. With that gorgeous hair and handsome appearance, he didn't really need any accessories. Just as I was about to board the ship, with these pointless thoughts, a familiar presence passed by, sending a shiver down my spine. The figure that passed in that brief moment was a tall, middle-aged man with blue eyes and platinum hair, wearing a navy coat and a fedora.
I felt the feeling and atmosphere were similar to Admiral Claire. But in this place overflowing with refugees and immigrants, those eyes and hair color were commonplace. Unlike him, who always paid attention to his attire and dignity, he had a bushy beard, and despite his imposing presence, his body was thin and wooden. I dismissed him as a mere lookalike and turned my head indifferently. He was already suffering and tormenting enough from losing Celine due to his own mistake, so I didn't even think about the troublesome act of seeking him out and seeking revenge.
Later, I would revisit this moment countless times, regretting it so much I wish I could turn back time. He was the cause, the process, and the result of my irreversible misfortune.
I should have killed the man who called my father a long time ago.
Comments
Post a Comment