Chapter 35
The attempted raid on Roy-John Prison was “tentatively concluded” to be the independent act of a radical Rose Party faction harboring a grudge over the late King’s assassination.
The use of such a lukewarm expression was due to the fact that the perpetrator had lost his life before a full-scale investigation could even begin.
While it was publicly announced as a suicide, those who loved conspiracy theories did not believe the official word for a moment.
The deposed Crown Prince, who had been scheduled for transfer to Walterstone Prison, was sentenced to exile following a summary trial.
Exile was the lightest punishment handed down to political prisoners.
“Public opinion is raging, claiming the royal family is rushing to get rid of him as quickly as possible to dispel the lingering suspicions surrounding the deposed prince, but…”
Homer Frostis, the royal aide who was delivering the state affairs report as usual, flinched at the Queen’s gaze, which was fixed coldly upon him.
“It is not a disturbance to be concerned about, Your Majesty. Once he is out of sight, this incident will soon be forgotten.”
“What of that boy?”
“I am told he has finally managed some light sleep since yesterday. He has begun to eat a little, so it is believed he will recover his health shortly.”
“That moron.”
Queen Catherine, who referred to her son—who had barely regained his strength—as a moron, sank into thought with a face so calm it was chilling.
I was foolish. I was hasty and reckless. But can you not understand, even a little, the feelings that forced me into such a desperate choice?
I… I hate that man. It is a disgrace and a torment even to live under the same sky as him!
A few days ago, her son had come to her, kneeling and begging in the very spot where Frostis now stood.
Even while weeping and pleading for help, he had carefully tended to his own excuses, insisting he had been justified.
Seeing the cowardly and petty state of her only son had made her want to laugh.
So, he was a Redbreeze after all. Thanks to that realization, she hadn’t felt angry even while cleaning up her son’s mess.
Frostis was right.
Humans are creatures of oblivion. Even if they are currently scribbling all sorts of third-rate novels, bringing up old grudges between the deposed prince and the royal family, they are the type of people who will become preoccupied with another scandal as if nothing had happened once time passes.
However.
“Charlotte Evanshire. What is that girl doing?”
“That… we haven’t received reports of any particular movements, but it seems she is currently busy preparing to return to her estate.”
Frostis flushed, as if knowing his own report was unsatisfactory.
Without a word of dismissal or a command to find out more, Catherine fell into silence once again.
The girl who had seen through Padrick’s scheme and smuggled out Tom Philson, and then had the audacity to use that as leverage to blackmail the Crown Prince.
Finding it impossible to believe this was the work of one person alone, Catherine had searched for a mastermind.
She had wondered if the girl was linked to the Thompson family of the Cream Party, but the extent of their involvement was merely a few letters exchanged with the new daughter-in-law regarding the borrowing of a slaughterhouse and a few men.
In other words, this entire stage was set by Charlotte Evanshire alone to protect those around her while preventing her union with Padrick.
‘The bigger problem is…’
Because that girl had traded Padrick’s political lifeline for the cancellation of the marriage, there was now a hitch in future plans.
To secure the territory belonging to the Count of Icks and naturally obtain ‘it,’ a union between the two families was necessary.
Of course, second and third plans to get her hands on it existed. However, compared to a natural union through affection between the two, these alternatives would involve financial blows and the risk of drawing more suspicion than necessary.
What if her dim-witted but lucky younger sister were to get her hands on it first, since it was essentially a vacant land?
‘Then my heart would be pierced by the hand of a maddened Padrick.’
Catherine, who diagnosed her own bleak future with spine-chilling composure, let out a cold, short laugh.
- I will make a decision… in a way that does not bring trouble to my father.
That clever girl. So that’s what those words meant in the end.
“Use a royal decree to keep that girl from returning to her estate. And send word to Count Icks, Robert Evanshire, to come to the palace at once.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Having received his orders, Frostis withdrew from the Queen’s bedroom.
The Queen, now in her nightgown, was finally able to rub her dry eyes and head toward the bed.
Completely alone without even her maids, she lifted the thick silk duvet.
“……!”
And she froze right there.
“Do not make a sound, Your Majesty.”
A cold blade was pressed against her pulsing carotid artery.
“The knife in my hand does not discriminate when it comes to blood.”
A voice tempered colder than the blade pierced her ear.
“Turn around slowly. Like that… good.”
The man standing before her was a good two heads taller than Catherine. The man who dared to make the Queen look up at him smiled brightly even while wielding a terrifying weapon.
When had she last seen him smile like that? Catherine thought blankly.
‘Right.’
It was about twelve years ago. Right before that boy killed his own father with his own hands.
“It has been a long time. Queen Catherine.”
The pure and brilliant nephew had returned from hell.
Holding a blue-tinted blade that had tasted god knows how much blood in the interim.
“I did not know Your Majesty would be using this room of all the rooms available.”
Calyx, looking around, took a slow step forward. His gait was light, as if he were going for a stroll.
Stopping by a mahogany table, he added in a low voice.
“Was this not my father’s bedroom?”
“……”
“And the place where my father died.”
The spot where bright red blood had once pooled chillingly was now covered by a dark-colored rug, as if to mask the tragedy of the past.
Looking down at the floor as if tracing a distant memory, Calyx turned back to Catherine and grinned.
“Do not worry. I have merely come to catch up with my aunt.”
“……”
“Oh dear. Are you trembling?”
Calyx approached with a face full of concern that couldn’t possibly be sincere.
Catherine, fumbling for a small box on the nightstand, froze in shock. Calyx had thrust his face right in front of hers.
The reddish-brown eyes, staring intently into her rigid face, moved past Catherine’s shoulder.
Fortunately, his gaze stopped at the decorative dagger next to the box. A smirk broke out.
“Do not be afraid. If worst comes to worst, you can just make me go mad again, aunt. …Just like that day twelve years ago.”
“……!”
Calyx wore a satisfied smile, as if he had obtained the expected reaction from his opponent.
Straightening his posture from where he had leaned in, he shrugged his shoulders playfully.
“I would be disappointed if you thought I didn’t know. Did you think your nephew was such a fool?”
“…Quit the empty talk and get to the point.”
“Your impatient nature remains unchanged, aunt.”
A light laugh passed. Calyx’s eyes narrowed as if searching his memory.
“Yes… Come to think of it, you were the same that day. You, who were supposed to be in the east for a vacation, visited your nephew without warning… and while drinking hot tea in a hurry, you ended up dropping your cup.”
The surprised nephew calls for someone to clean up the broken pieces, but the aunt stops him.
She says a precious jewel fell among the shards and that she cannot trust the greedy maids, so she asks her kind nephew to pick up the jewel for her.
Though the nephew finds it strange, he soon follows her request.
“A jewel about the size of two finger joints had fallen among the shards. It looked like amber, a honey-like yellowish color, with a craggy shape that I thought was a bit rugged for someone like you to possess. But since you said you cherished it, I picked it up carefully…”
Ah!
The nephew lets out a small groan and drops the jewel. Blood is dripping from his finger. It seems a fragment of the teacup was stuck to the jewel.
The nephew, embarrassed by his carelessness, picks up the jewel again. He realizes there is blood on his hand, but the dripping blood has already stained the jewel red.
“It was strange. Why did the jewel look like it was sucking in the blood at that moment?”
Calyx said softly. Catherine forgot how to breathe for a moment.
“It was certain that the yellowish color of the jewel turned red. I think I stared at it for a while because it was so fascinating. From a certain point, nothing else entered my sight. It felt like I was trapped in a space where only the jewel and I existed.”
“……”
“At that moment, I heard someone’s voice. No, actually, I’m not even sure if it was a human voice. It sounded like one, yet like many, and it said…”
Calyx’s lips slowly parted.
“Kill him. Kill your father. Kill your father and tumble into the abyss!”
Even while speaking such horrific words, his voice was filled with ecstasy. As if trying to mimic the voice from that time as perfectly as possible.
“…You madman.”
Catherine, facing those glowing eyes, managed to spit out a single phrase.
Calyx, having regained his composure, tilted his head and looked at Catherine.
“You’re right. I am mad. Perhaps I was already quite mad even before I murdered my father.”
“What is it you want to say, exactly!”
“It was strange. If all of this truly was your scheme to usurp the throne, why have you kept me alive until now—me, the greatest threat to your reign? Since I committed an unforgivable sin, you could have taken my head at the guillotine at any time.”
To project the royal family’s mercy in embracing even a high traitor?
To avoid fueling suspicion by killing the deposed prince in an already fishy incident?
It was neither. By keeping him alive, the mother and son stood to lose more than they gained.
“The son is dying to kill me, so why is the mother struggling so hard to keep me alive, even going so far as to issue an exile order? Why on earth?”
“……”
“The truth is, you couldn’t kill me, could you? Because ‘someone’ behind Your Majesty wants me alive.”
