Queen of Revenge - Chapter 100

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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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Chapter 100
Anastasia’s face hardened into an unforgiving mask.
She realized that feigning ignorance before Iolet would prove utterly futile.
Anastasia leaned back slowly against her chair and crossed her arms. Stripped of her obedient princess facade, she revealed herself as an ambitious schemer through and through.
“So you’ve placed your wager on Prince Dietrich? It seems your husband, the Commander-in-Chief of Winterbark, is indeed committed to supporting him?”
Against formidable opponents, one need not reveal every card in hand. Iolet answered with a question instead.
“If Prince Dietrich becomes king, wouldn’t Kalande have little need to trade with Bilebach? That would mean your negotiating partners would have to change as well, wouldn’t it?”
“To my ears, that sounds like you’re asking me to abandon Leonhilt and strike a new deal with you.”
“Precisely. Nothing in this world comes without a price.”
I appreciated her directness. I wiped the pastry crumbs from my hands with a handkerchief and folded it neatly in my lap.
“I’ll be blunt with my proposal. I want you to divorce Prince Leonhilt within a reasonable timeframe. In exchange, I’ll guarantee that Bilebach secures the exclusive right to negotiate trade agreements with Kalande’s next king. What do you say?”
* * *
The Princess of Elovis remained for another hour before departing.
Standing at the window, Anastasia watched the princess’s receding figure grow smaller.
“…Ha!”
Laughter burst forth unexpectedly.
Anastasia gripped the windowsill, her laughter ringing clear and bright.
“Charlotte’s daughter, no less. She’s certainly no ordinary woman.”
No one from the Levia Royal Family could be ignorant of Charlotte.
Charlotte—the elder sister of the current King of Levia.
She had married the King of Elovis upon reaching adulthood and left the royal family, but became entangled in a scandalous affair and took her own life to vindicate her honor—a tragic princess.
After Charlotte’s death, the Levia Royal Family lodged strong protests with Elovis.
However, at that time, the King of Elovis still bore the title of Conqueror King.
Fearing war might erupt, Levia retreated and requested that Charlotte’s young daughter be sent to their country. But Elovis unilaterally severed relations with Levia, refusing the demand.
From that point forward, the alliance between the two nations completely deteriorated.
Three years later, when Anastasia married the Crown Prince of Levia, and then divorced him again three years after that, this ambiguous deadlock persisted.
Yet Charlotte’s portrait still hung in the office of the King of Levia, her full brother—a painting of her cradling her swaddled daughter.
The Crown Prince, the king’s only son and Charlotte’s nephew, and Anastasia’s ex-husband, yearned for her as well. Having lost his mother early, Charlotte had been like a mother to him.
“If she’s Charlotte’s daughter, she’s bound to be exceptionally clever. Your assessment was correct.”
Anastasia walked toward the bed and withdrew a small jeweled box from a drawer. Inside lay a meticulously crafted diamond ring—a wedding gift from her first marriage.
Iolet’s deduction had been accurate. Beyond the teacup and teapot, traces of the Levia Royal Family were subtly scattered throughout Anastasia’s quarters.
“Return whenever you wish, Anisha. The seat of Crown Princess of Levia will remain vacant for you always.”
“No, don’t say that. The contract has ended, and I will never return to Levia.”
“…I’m truly foolish, aren’t I? Leaving so coldly, yet still harboring such thoughts.”
Longing flickered in Anastasia’s eyes as she caressed the diamond.
Leaving her homeland to choose Levia, and leaving Levia to choose Kalande—both decisions had been hers alone.
Though she had resolved to dedicate herself entirely to her homeland’s prosperity, Anastasia often found herself yearning for Levia.
That warm, gentle, and compassionate place—the place she could never return to—sometimes even more than Bilebach.
‘If I can maintain the alliance between Kalande and Bilebach even after divorcing Leonhilt…’
Then perhaps the day might come when I could slip this ring back onto my ring finger.
“I’ll provide the grounds for divorce. All you need do is recover the funds you gave to Prince Leonhilt.”
“Help me, Iolet.”
Anastasia’s whisper echoed softly through the bedroom.
“Then I shall gladly become your strength as well.”
* * *
For four days thereafter, I sought refuge in the First Prince’s Palace, evading the Queen’s increasingly frequent visits.
“Your Highness, the Queen has invited you to dine this evening….”
“I apologize. I have a prior engagement with Anastasia today.”
“Then perhaps we might share breakfast tomorrow….”
“I’m sorry. Tomorrow morning I’ve already promised to take an early walk through the garden with Anastasia. We’ll breakfast together as well.”
Anastasia was of the Bilebach royal family. Her marriage to the First Prince was one of political necessity, so even the Queen could not treat her carelessly.
She was even distant with her mother-in-law, the Queen. What queen would welcome a princess who bore no children?
Most of Anastasia’s attendants were Bilebachian, and they smuggled my letters beyond the palace walls, evading the Queen’s scrutiny. It was far more reliable than passing them through the noble ladies.
Of course, Anastasia would have opened and read every one of those letters. That was what it meant to help without expecting payment.
So I had added a note at the end of my letters instructing her not to send replies, just in case.
‘I wonder how they’re faring.’
Lucian had left the palace and was moving through the shadows of the Capital.
Kairon was still at court, having received the deed to the Valken Territory and preparing to negotiate next year’s budget allocation for the Northern Fortress.
‘Now that I’ve sent word of my safety, he should have some peace of mind.’
After finishing dinner with Anastasia, I left the First Prince’s Palace with a lighter heart. It was as I stepped onto the narrow path beside the Queen’s Palace, where my quarters lay.
A hand extended from between the garden trees, catching my forearm.
“…!”
I started in alarm and wrenched my arm free. Only then did I recognize how familiar that gentle grip was.
I gestured to Anastasia’s maidservant, who had been walking ahead of me.
“You may return to the First Prince’s Palace now. We’ve arrived.”
“Yes, understood.”
Once I confirmed the maidservant had disappeared from the path, I turned around quickly.
He stood in the narrow passage between the garden trees, where the shadows of branches wove thinly across the ground.
It was Kairon.
His chiseled features gleamed sharply in the moonlight.
As I held my breath for a moment, Kairon pulled me toward him.
“I went to your chamber and found you gone.”
“My chamber—how did you….”
I came to my senses belatedly and glanced around. A few garden trees could hardly conceal his broad frame.
I hastily pushed against his chest and moved toward the corner of the building. Unfortunately, we had entered directly beneath the Queen’s Palace balcony, with nowhere suitable to hide.
“Did you inform the Queen’s Palace of your visit?”
“Hardly. The letters I sent were likely burned without being read.”
“Then why did you come?”
“With no reply forthcoming, the only way to see your face and hear your voice was to come myself.”
“It’s only been a week.”
Iolet glanced nervously upward, her anxiety mounting with each furtive look. Though a towering garden tree obscured the view, anyone peering down from above would spot her in an instant.
‘This location is rather dangerous…’
“If you’re worried about me, there’s no need. I’ve been managing quite well—”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not managing well.”
Kairon Winterbark cut off her words. Iolet noticed he was scrutinizing her from head to toe, examining every inch of her.
Apparently looking wasn’t enough—he reached out and touched her neck, then his hands traced across her cheeks, jaw, shoulders, wrists, and the backs of her hands.
It was painfully obvious he was anxiously searching for any scratch or bruise.
This was the first time she’d seen the usually composed Kairon Winterbark so visibly unsettled.
“Why aren’t you managing well?”
“I left you alone in enemy territory, and you expect me to feel reassured by a single ‘I’m doing just fine’?”
Mm.
Iolet found herself nodding in agreement.
Kairon Winterbark was a man who did what needed doing.
Even at their first meeting, when there was no way to see each other, he’d proposed outright. For such a man to have waited an entire week was considerable restraint.
His nerves had been wound tight during the journey to Kalande, and perhaps she’d been thoughtless in not noticing.
“Did you think I’d been imprisoned? I’ve been spending time with the First Prince’s wife, and tomorrow I’m invited to Count Valenstein’s Mansion.”
Iolet spoke as she brushed a leaf from his hair.
“There’s something I need to verify there, and I think you’d find it interesting too. Would you like to hear about it?”
Kairon Winterbark asked with an expression of complete disinterest.
“What is it?”
“Count Valenstein collects ancient theological texts, I’m told. Apparently there’s quite a bit of information about the Demon Tribe mixed in among them. Perhaps we might find a clue about this demon stone pendant. That’s why I’m going.”
“Perhaps find a way?”
A sharp gleam flashed across Kairon Winterbark’s crimson eyes.
“A way to extend your lifespan?”

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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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