Queen of Revenge - Chapter 2

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

Chapter 2
Part 1
My husband, Count Castlane, was a man well over sixty years old.
The Count harbored a peculiar depravity that others whispered about behind closed doors—he harbored an obsession with young, beautiful boys.
Moreover, he suffered from severe exhibitionism.
Whenever he was with these boys, the Count would invariably summon me.
If I failed to lift my gaze or closed my eyes, his fists and curses would inevitably follow.
The horrors extended far beyond that. Once or twice a week, I was forced to lie in the same bed as him in my capacity as the Countess.
On nights when I trembled beside that repugnant old man, desperately seeking sleep, my maidservant would always bring me tea.
On my final day at the Count’s Residence, I drank the sleeping draught my maidservant brought.
“Sleep well, my lady. It won’t be much longer now.”
“Yes. Five years—nearly five years have already passed.”
The five years my Elder Sister had promised were drawing to a close, and the day I would return to the Capital drew near.
Clinging to this fragile hope, I drifted to sleep beside the Count.
When I awoke after a deep slumber, I was drenched in blood from head to toe.
Beside me lay the Count, dead, a dagger buried in his heart, his limbs splayed wide.
They say that when a person is gripped by overwhelming terror, they cannot even scream.
As I stood frozen before the Count’s corpse, the maidservant burst through the door and began to shriek.
“My lady killed the Count! My lady killed the Count!”
Before I could protest, I was seized by the Count’s Private Guard.
After being forcibly confined to the basement of the mansion and dragged to the Capital, I desperately tried to piece together how this nightmare had unfolded.
No matter how hard I thought, no matter how many times I retraced my steps….
“Sleep well, my lady.”
The one who killed the Count was—.
“Did you sleep well, Your Highness?”
Someone spoke from beside my pillow.
I jolted awake with a start. Air rushed violently through my nose and mouth.
“Gasp…!”
The moment I realized I was breathing, my breath caught in my throat.
I rolled onto my side and coughed violently.
Breathing was proof of life. The moment a dull blade came down on the back of my neck felt horrifyingly vivid.
The same voice from my nightmare continued to reach my ears.
“Are you all right? Did you have a nightmare?”
I lifted my tear-streaked eyes to see who had spoken to me. Shock struck me like a thunderbolt.
“…Lisi?”
“Your Highness?”
Lisi Keis.
The second daughter of House Keis, she had served as my personal maidservant for the past fifteen years.
I had not seen Lisi again since being dragged away from House Castlane.
I asked hesitantly.
“What did you just call me?”
“Pardon? I called you… Your Highness.”
Lisi Keis looked bewildered.
It had been five years since Iolet ceased being called a princess. From the moment she married Count Castlane, she was no longer a princess but a countess.
‘Surely not.’
Looking around again, something felt familiar.
The low ceiling, the stone walls seeping with cold, the wooden furniture that must have once been splendid but now lay decrepit, the frayed edges of the carpet…
There was no doubt. This was the Tower where Iolet had lived in the Royal Palace.
With trembling hands, I touched my neck. My fingertips caught on a thin golden string. I felt the stone I had clutched desperately in my grip just before the execution.
I tore at the necklace like a madwoman.
‘The color changed!’
The stone that had shone with a brilliant crimson light was now dull and faded. The magic had succeeded.
“Always wear this, Iolet. I don’t know how much time remains for me, but I give it all to you.”
My mother, Charlotte, had one day poured all her remaining lifespan into this ruby necklace.
It was a forbidden dark art passed down in secret in her homeland, the Levia Kingdom.
As long as my mother’s remaining lifespan existed in this ruby, I would not die. Even in death, I would return to life.
I had vaguely known of it, but this was my first time experiencing it.
And a regression? Five years, no less!
My tear-blurred eyes gradually came into focus.
In the mirror of the vanity across from the bedroom, a girl not yet of age was reflected.
‘Young. Thin.’
Even the one aspect of my appearance I could have been proud of now seemed childish.
I recited my mother’s final words.
I must survive, no matter what…
Even if it meant abandoning my humanity.
In a world ruled by Catherine, no matter how hard I struggled, I would inevitably stand upon the gallows.
Survival was impossible as her virtuous sister, or as a powerless, cast-out princess.
‘To survive, I must become queen. Not Catherine—me.’
Survival was inextricably linked to power.
My past self had been foolish enough not to understand such a simple truth.
Just then, Lisi Keis firmly lifted me up.
“You’ve slept quite soundly, Your Highness. You should prepare soon, or you’ll be late for lunch. You mustn’t keep your future husband waiting.”
I roughly shook off her arm.
“Let go. I never gave you permission to lay hands on my body.”
The maidservant with freckles dotting both cheeks stared at me in disbelief.
Yes, I remember this woman clearly.
Catherine’s loyal hound, who observed me with minimal courtesy and constant surveillance.
And the only maidservant permitted to enter the master bedroom of the Castlain Mansion.
This maidservant was undoubtedly the one who killed Count Castlane.
* * *
“Count Castlane has arrived.”
At the Butler’s single word—spoken without so much as a knock—I was forced to abandon the sanctuary of my bedroom.
Lisi flickered her eyes menacingly, issuing a veiled threat.
“Your Highness has no choice in the matter. If you continue to refuse meetings with the Count, I shall have no choice but to summon the knights.”
I reluctantly donned the dress Lisi had brought—a nauseating evening gown with a plunging neckline, so sheer it was barely more than gossamer.
As I made my way toward the Dining Room, I rapidly sifted through my memories.
‘It is now spring of the year 1058 in the Imperial Calendar.’
The very season I had been forced down to Castlaine Territory after my wedding ceremony with Count Castlane.
Fortunately, Catherine was not yet Queen.
Her coronation would come roughly four years hence, immediately following our father the King’s sudden death.
I had to overturn the board before then.
‘Five days remain until the wedding ceremony.’
This time, I would not go willingly.
Yet there was precious little I could accomplish in the immediate moment.
I had no friends, no trusted confidants, and Lisi—my watchdog—remained glued to my side from dawn until dusk.
Enemies swarmed everywhere, and I possessed not a single weapon to my name.
‘I must secure trustworthy protection. But first, I must remove this surveillance.’
Lisi, trailing behind me, issued a low warning.
“Mind your conduct before the Count. Should you break into tears as you did last time, the Crown Princess will be most grieved.”
Now I noticed what I had failed to perceive before—a faint smirk playing at the corners of the Maidservant’s lips.
I let out a soft laugh, following her lead.
“Indeed.”
Catherine would have clapped her hands and laughed with delight.
But starting today, she would have no reason to laugh.
‘You first, Lisi.’
A chill settled across my features.
Upon arriving at the austere Dining Room of the Tower, I issued a command to Lisi.
“Oh, I’ve left the Count’s gift in my bedroom. Do fetch it for me, won’t you? The brooch in the velvet box.”
Lisi’s expression grew suspicious, but she soon nodded in acquiescence.
Once I confirmed Lisi had vanished from sight, I opened the Dining Room door.
A thick, cloying cologne assaulted my nostrils. Count Castlane sat before the table, his corpulent belly thrust forward obscenely.
“Your Highness?”
Upon spotting me, the Count narrowed his eyes in what he apparently believed was a charming smile. It was nothing but repulsive.
“My, how you’ve grown in our time apart.”
The Count, with grease glistening between his wrinkles, was grotesquely obese. His belly protruded so severely he could scarcely rise from his seat.
The Count’s gaze raked across my form with lecherous intent. I felt bile rising in my throat.
“Soon you’ll be nineteen. A pity you weren’t a few years younger still… tsk.”
At the sight of the Count’s thick, meaty fists, my shoulders flinched reflexively.
Before violence, rank meant nothing. I was utterly defenseless.
In the past, that had been true.
“My apologies for the delay, Count.”
“Heh heh. In a few days, I’ll be your husband, so perhaps we should settle on proper forms of address beforehand. I fear what others might say if they heard the princess speaking so casually to me.”
“…Now that you mention it, you’re right.”
Iolet circled the table, her eyes sweeping across the arranged place settings and silver candelabras. The Count’s slicked-back hair drew steadily closer.
“Forgive my rudeness, Count. I beg your pardon.”
As she submitted with a pitiful gaze, the Count’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.
“That’s better. And remember, keeping one’s husband waiting is also poor etiquette. Especially for a man of such refined experience as myself—”
Before the Count could finish his drivel, Iolet seized the silver candelabra from the table and brought it crashing down against the back of his skull.
Crack!

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