A Fortune-telling Princess - Chapter 222

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“Your Highness, it’s almost time for the conference.”
At the Chief Attendant’s words, Crown Prince Edsen lifted his head to glance at the clock, his brow furrowing slightly. I must have misjudged the time.
“And those people?”
“They have all arrived, Your Highness.”
“Diligent bunch, aren’t they? Not a single one has missed a day.”
Seeing his evident displeasure, the Chief Attendant bowed even more deeply, his expression apologetic.
“I apologize, but would you mind waiting just a moment? I’ll tidy up and return shortly.”
“No, Your Highness. I have matters to attend to as well. I’ll just finish this tea and take my leave.”
“…You’re leaving right away?”
Bewilderment flickered across Crown Prince Edsen’s eyes. Surely she hadn’t asked to see him merely to share tea?
Regardless of her reasons, the fact that she was leaving so soon after their long absence filled him with an unexpected sense of regret.
“Then I’ll see you next time.”
Unable to bear watching the Chief Attendant fidget any longer, he slowly rose from his seat.
Edsen understood perfectly well why the Chief Attendant was acting this way. If he delayed any further, only he would suffer the consequences.
And gathered in the council chamber were those who would seize upon such delays as an opportunity to question his sense of responsibility as Crown Prince.
“There’s truly not a single peaceful day—”
“However, Your Highness.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve brought you a gift.”
“A gift?”
Edsen’s gaze shifted back to Camilla. A small wooden box now rested in her hands.
A gift, out of nowhere?
“I hope it pleases you.”
Without further explanation, Camilla extended the box closer to the bewildered Edsen.
When the Chief Attendant moved to accept it, she shook her head, so Edsen took the box directly. Despite its modest size, it felt surprisingly heavy.
As Crown Prince Edsen opened the lid and examined its contents, his brow gradually furrowed.
“What is this?”
“An item you desperately need at this very moment, Your Highness.”
“Something I need right now?”
He lifted his gaze to Camilla, and following the direction of her meaningful eyes, he returned his attention to the box.
“…Wait a moment.”
Moments later, Crown Prince Edsen’s eyes widened rapidly.
“Could this possibly be…!”
“Y-Your Highness!”
The Chief Attendant, who had been observing from the side, also seemed to recognize the gift’s true nature, his eyes widening in shock.
Both their gazes turned toward Camilla simultaneously.
“Is this…what I think it is?”
Camilla nodded slowly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Faced with their astonishment that transcended mere surprise, Camilla offered them a gentle smile.
And with that, she added one final remark.
“Go ahead and stir things up to your heart’s content.”
* * *
“What are your thoughts on this matter?”
“Well, that is….”
“Hmm.”
The nobles gathered in the Conference Room showed visible discomfort. None of them could meet the piercing gaze of Marquis Duriel, who had posed the question.
“You all have no objection to passing the throne to the Church Leader’s son? You truly don’t mind?”
Externally, the Imperial Court was known to be rapidly stabilizing, but in truth, a single issue still caused considerable turmoil.
“Marquis Duriel, that remark is excessive!”
“Mind your tongue! The Church Leader’s son, no less!”
Those aligned with Crown Prince Edsen gnashed their teeth at his words.
They had allowed such a grave weakness to be seized by their opponents that merely entering the Council Chamber these days filled them with dread.
Yet they could hardly sit idle and do nothing about it.
“Have I spoken falsely?”
“By that logic, Prince Abihel is also the Church Leader’s son, is he not?”
“Precisely.”
“…!”
Marquis Duriel nodded without the slightest hesitation at the nobleman’s sharp retort.
Everyone gasped in shock at his response. Even those who followed Marquis Duriel were equally astounded.
To so readily acknowledge his own grandson as the Church Leader’s son, despite all claims that he was dead.
“He was merely a figurehead emperor. Can you truly consider the princes born from his body as legitimate heirs?”
“That is….”
“Hmph.”
Marquis Duriel advanced his argument that Crown Prince Edsen, born from the body of one possessed by the Church Leader’s spirit, could not be considered a legitimate successor to the throne.
He relentlessly incited the assembled nobles, questioning how the empire could possibly be entrusted to one born of a false emperor.
“You are all surely aware of the imperial seal theft that occurred long ago.”
Though it happened centuries past, no nobleman present was ignorant of that incident.
After all, an emperor had lost the only means by which he could prove himself.
“It was unprecedented in imperial history.”
The event was recorded in historical texts. And for good reason—the imperial seal lost that day was no ordinary stamp.
It was a sacred relic crafted from the bones of the Black Dragon, whom the First Emperor had slain when it was called the evil god.
It was an object intimately connected to the empire’s founding mythology and a treasure symbolizing the very genesis of the Faybler Royal Family.
“And it was Emperor Alberto who lost that seal.”
Emperor Alberto was presumed to be the first member of the imperial family to have his body stolen by the Church Leader of the Eba Cult—a fact that served Marquis Duriel as justification for legitimizing the one he sought to elevate to emperor.
“Is it not remarkably coincidental that the treasure symbolizing the Faybler Royal Family vanished at precisely the same time the Church Leader committed his heinous acts?”
Perhaps it was all the will of heaven. If so, should we not trace matters back further still?
“What do you mean…!”
“Are you suggesting the seal departed of its own volition? There are limits to such sophistry!”
“Now, now, let us remain calm. Marquis Duriel is hardly spinning tales from nothing.”
“Indeed. With the Sword of Protection and the Sword of Judgment having reappeared in this world, and now the Mirror of Truth as well, is it so surprising that the sacred seal of old rejected its false master and found its way elsewhere?”
It was an absurd argument, yet in this moment of uncertainty, no one could easily refute it.
“Perhaps Heaven itself—or rather, the First Emperor—was expressing his refusal to recognize that creature as the emperor of the empire he had founded?”
At his assertion, everyone’s eyes wavered as though they had lost all direction.
Those who followed Crown Prince Edsen were no exception. They could not bring themselves to accept it, yet an uncomfortable unease settled upon them.
If Marquis Duriel’s words were true, could they truly continue to follow a being born from that grotesque monster wearing nothing but the shell of an emperor?
“Then what exactly is it that Marquis Duriel wishes to say?”
“Are you suggesting that Grand Duke Biyoson would be a more suitable successor to the throne than Crown Prince Edsen?”
Grand Duke Biyoson. The ruler of a duchy situated in the Northern Territory of the Faybler Empire.
As his title of Grand Duke suggested, he was undoubtedly a descendant of the First Emperor, though such a distinction had become a relic of the past.
Were these not the very people who had never even uttered the word “marriage” to the Imperial Court, lest they draw the Emperor’s suspicion?
By now, calling them blood relatives was almost embarrassing. In ordinary times, such a tenuous connection would be beneath mention.
Though their faces betrayed bewilderment at the claim to succession through such a threadbare link, the momentum of Crown Prince Edsen’s faction visibly waned. The blood connection was real, after all, making it difficult to mount a counterargument.
Marquis Duriel, having seized control of the atmosphere, wore a thin smile.
Yes, faint though it may be, it mattered not. The fact that Grand Duke Biyoson was a descendant of the First Emperor was indisputable.
‘If my daughter and my grandson cannot have it!’
Then I will not give this empire to that wretch Edsen either! Marquis Duriel’s fists clenched tightly.
The memory of his daughter’s death remained vivid—her body decaying rapidly in his arms.
When he had learned that the Emperor was dead and the throne had passed to his own grandson, he had felt as though he possessed the entire world.
Yet that grandson too had been beheaded after his body was stolen by a follower of the Eba Cult. How could such anguish ever be adequately expressed in words?
There was only one way to soothe that pain: to seize this empire for himself!
By elevating Grand Duke Biyoson to the throne, his own house would enjoy glory no less than that of the Three Ducal Houses!
‘And he poses no threat whatsoever.’
Grand Duke Biyoson. Young in years and ignorant of statecraft. A perfect puppet to manipulate.
In other words, the moment he became emperor, it would be as though I myself had become master of the empire.
“Think carefully on this, all of you.”
At Marquis Duriel’s resolute gaze, the assembly fell silent once more.
To follow Marquis Duriel’s words was to fear Crown Prince Edsen, yet to place Crown Prince Edsen upon the throne was to be haunted by the specter of the Church Leader of the Eba Cult—an uncomfortable position either way.
Click.
“…!”
At that moment, the Conference Room door swung open and a figure stepped inside.
“It seems I have arrived quite late.”
A man entered with a bright smile, offering a casual nod to those assembled. It was Crown Prince Edsen himself.
His arrival caused the atmosphere of the Conference Room to grow even heavier.
As Crown Prince Edsen’s gaze swept lightly across them, his smile deepened.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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