Shartus tilted his lips and threw out a special remark. Though casually spoken, it had far-reaching repercussions. If a war were to break out between the continent's first and second powers, Acrana could be swept up in it, turning it into a sea of fire. Rosentine swallowed, recognizing the truth she had been trying to ignore.
The reason she didn't suspect Vishtean in the first place was because of that risk.
Rosentine glanced at Lucien. Ever since she saw the pattern on his shoulder, Rosentine couldn't help but think of Vishtean. Once she'd started thinking about it, it was surprising she hadn't thought of it before.
The enemy knew the palace's circumstances all too well. That's why they were considered internal enemies, but on second thought, there was no such thing as a single enemy. Even their tactics were incredibly ingenious. Considering their capital and scale, it was right to assume a massive force was involved.
Vishtean, and Rosentine touched the back of my hand. The back of my hand, where she once received respect, felt strangely warm. It was a bit disconcerting. She was receiving such gratitude for something she'd done simply to make herself comfortable.
But she knew the depth of Lucien's expression of reverence. She knew what it was like to have someone who harbored such a secret tearing her apart. She, too, had found herself in Harun.
“Did the King send you?”
The Vishteans were a powerful nation, their King worthy of the title of Emperor. However, Rosentine, at least in part, referred to the Vishteans' Emperor as King. The man's brow furrowed in displeasure. It was only natural.
But she had no intention of exalting him, having already encountered him twice and now knowing of his hostility. What did it matter to her whether she called their King an Emperor or a god?
Now he was just a fucking son of a bitch. Shartus raised an eyebrow, but it was nothing more than a look of interest. Instead, it was Hostang and Lucien who shook their hands.
"Shit..."
The man flinched at the mention of war. At this, Shartus and Rosentine exchanged glances. If Vishtean is properly preparing for the confrontation, things will get worse.
But judging by the man's expression, it didn't seem that way. He, too, seemed war-averse, and Kartazen was the continent's foremost power. It was clear that the sole empire, the sole power, would do anything to crush that maritime kingdom. After hesitating for a while, he sighed and confessed the truth.
"He is the Second Prince. He has no direct connection to the country."
"I guess we should hope so."
"Speak properly, the fate of the entire continent rests on your lips."
Hostang still held his sword sharply, his attention focused on the man. He measured the distance between the window and the four men, and the man shook his head. Even if he had a gap, his opponent was an undefeated knight. Even with three comrades, he figured running away would be impossible.
So, his employer must have instructed him to avoid direct contact with him. The man clicked his tongue again. A bitter taste rose in his stomach. He couldn't even call him his employer anymore. He was captured, and it was safe to say that the only path left for the one who had plotted the poisoning of the royal family was death.
As an assassin, he could be said to be skilled in a variety of tortures, but the consequences of not properly explaining the situation would be devastating for the entire continent. His body itself would serve as evidence.
Even if the poisoning plot was discovered, he never expected the mastermind behind it to be revealed so easily. The man glanced at Lucien. A Vishtean slave of noble birth? He shouldn't be in the palace.
He never imagined he would hear about the foundations of an organization he had never known about from the lips of a foreign noble. Even with all the information he had accessed, no one knew the source of this phrase.
'Did the Prince know?'
He shook his head. The man couldn't tell how far his employer's expectations fell. The Second Prince of the Vishtean kingdom wasn't particularly bright, but frankly, he was a madman. He wouldn't avoid war, and if he did...
"Hugh..."
“What is the answer?”
"...I will."
"It seems like you want to avoid war."
Hostang spoke with a surprising air. He expected a spy with extensive training to immediately evade the threat, as if about to swallow poison. But he seemed surprisingly troubled. The war he'd be drawn into on the continent was enormous.
***
Three years ago, after the harsh training he had undergone, his employer even taught him how to 'imitate human desires' so as not to look awkward in the palace.
There was a woman he'd met along the way. A woman who, without his protection, would have easily perished in the war. His employer didn't let him go to Kartazen with any peace of mind. The Second Prince of Vishtean had subtly mentioned her existence and warned him what would happen to her if he acted rashly. It was a cunning instruction, but it was also a common threat. Now, it's become a hindrance.
"...All plans were entirely under the direction of the Second Prince."
“Be polite.”
Hostang struck the man's knee and forced him to kneel on the floor. The man groaned and fell to his knees, looking up at Shartus.
“It’s all a plan.”
"We started planning and recruiting people... five years ago."
As Hostang glared, the man corrected the horse's mother. A fist was next to his temple, so he knew he had a tough road ahead of him. He didn't need to be beaten.
Any loyalty to his employer had long since vanished due to his brutality. Of course, he still harbored feelings for Vishtean, but if war broke out, they would all die, so there was no way he could remain loyal.
It was crucial to immediately pin this incident entirely on the Second Prince. The man, his eyes furrowed mercilessly, slowly regurgitated his memories.
"Are you saying that the Second Prince was the one who made the plan, and that the state did not intervene in that situation?"
"The Second Prince is planning to drive out the Crown Prince."
"Is this a fight for succession? What is the exact purpose?"
The man bowed his head. His assigned objective was simply to kill the Second Prince of Kartazen.
He was taught that it was presumptuous to speculate further on the purpose. But even that was not without its expectations.
For instance, the battle for succession he just mentioned was something he had already guessed. The man moistened his dry lips and spoke slowly.
"All I've been ordered to do is kill Shartus of Kartazen."
"Then let me explain it in detail."
Shartus sat down next to Rosentine. His usual pose, with one leg raised, exuded an overly sly air. The idea of attempting to assassinate a foreign Prince in the midst of a succession dispute was undeniably disturbing.
A clearer picture began to form in Rosentine's mind. Whatever the spy said, Shartus would discern the hidden intention behind it. No one in the room was unaware of this.
The name of the undefeated knight, Kartazen, was so high. That's why the commander swallowed his words even more. Instead, Rosentine spoke slowly. There was still one final plan remaining. A final route that the commander could clearly not execute alone.
"First, the execution of the poison and another spy, I suppose. If you are from Vishtaean, there must be someone who knows the palace."
It was a remarkably sweet tone. Shartus made a brief movement, but silence fell again around him. In the expected silence, the man slowly laid his forehead on the floor. Ultimately, all he could muster was the question of who exactly was behind it.
The thought that he'd been playing with the palm of his hand sent shivers down his spine. Since when? The thought swirled around in his head, but he had to admit that even the last card had been discovered by Kartazen. 'No.'
With that thought in his mind, the man raised his gloomy eyes and looked at the woman before him. The Second Prince's personal maid, the woman whose mind controlled everything in the palace, where did she come from, and when did she start to sense the plot?
The man's gaze, revealing his thoughts as they occurred, was blocked by Shartus, who rose to block his view. Shartus muttered softly. A chillingly pleasant voice vibrated in his ears.
"The ultimate goal would have been to kill all the heirs to the throne and create chaos."
It was the end. The goal he couldn't bring himself to say flowed from the Prince's lips instead. The man stared at Shartus with a blank expression. Shartus's icy eyes held a perfectly justified anger. It felt like he was being judged by the sword.
For a moment, the man felt more afraid of enduring the pressure of that absolute being than of the knife pointed at his neck.
"So it was Mura's ivory?"
His beautiful lips twisted elegantly. Shartus shone like refined platinum. The rage bathed in moonlight was terrifyingly cold. The Second Prince, who could save him from a healing potion that couldn't be properly administered
The Second Prince would die from the poison, and no matter how hard he struggled, the Crown Prince would be stricken by the royal curse. Having lost all his heirs to the throne, the empire would be thrown into chaos, and the cunning prince of Vishtean would likely try to capitalize on this moment.
The jaws were aligned. And Rosentine was also furious. Given the lizard's body, it wasn't hard to guess what it was. She'd found the nest and figured out how to dispose of it. Even as her mission neared completion, the cold anger in her heart lingered.
Rosentine walked past Shartus, who covered her face and approached the man. A dark-haired woman's lips were curled into a sincere smile.
"Then let's take care of the last thing."
***
The palace was abuzz with news: Crown Prince Eswar was to appear at the truce and ministerial meeting.
Almert, old but still with a firm and stern disposition, assisted him. The Emperor, with a look of delight, introduced his son, something not even rumored before. The meeting in the main hall was not attended by the nobles, who were stunned by the mere sight of Eswar.
The Emperor took advantage of the situation to engage in minor squabbles with the nobles and pass policies. Some were in mourning, but most were preoccupied with checking whether Eswar had fully recovered.
- There's one left, Rosentine?
"There's only one intact lizard left."
- Are you waiting for the right time?
"They're waiting for you to come in."
The man who had just come around her smiled like a foggy mist. It was a smile that was imbued with inexplicable wisdom.
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