Queen of Revenge - Chapter 34
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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 34
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Kairon Winterbark did not linger long before returning to the Northern Fortress.
The fact that he had remained in another nation’s military installation for so long without authorization was already extraordinary in itself.
He sent his adjutants to the Capital in his stead, stating that he would guard the fortress for the time being until Iolet made a complete recovery.
Kairon departed after mentioning he would return the following month.
‘He seems intent on watching me, lest I do something foolish.’
As it turned out, Kairon’s vigilance proved unnecessary.
Not long after awakening, I came to a painful realization.
Being brought back from death did not mean my wounds simply vanished as though they had never been.
The injuries that had barely healed enough to restore my life remained devastatingly deep. Fever ravaged my body, and for two days I could not move a single finger.
Yet I had gained something equally profound.
“I have committed a grave sin.”
Marcel Lefebvre knelt before me.
Not only Marcel, but the soldiers who had accompanied him that day bowed their heads as well. The fact that I had sacrificed my life for them seemed to ripple throughout the entire garrison.
“In my haste to prevent the soldiers’ sacrifice, I accepted the Demon’s proposal despite knowing it was wrong.”
In the time I had been away, the Commander’s complexion had deteriorated beyond recognition.
“I understood that if we offered soldiers squared each year, the situation would spiral beyond control within mere years—yet I foolishly believed another solution would present itself by then. All of this is my failure. From this moment forward, I shall relinquish my command and accept whatever punishment is deemed appropriate.”
Marcel Lefebvre was a general who had served the Late King decades ago, navigating wars at his side.
Because of this, the Late King’s trust in Marcel ran deep. The fact that he had granted Marcel command of the Border Guard for nearly twenty years was testament to this.
‘Stripping Marcel of his command would not place it in my hands. If I report this to the Royal Family, another general will likely be appointed as his successor.’
That successor would almost certainly be someone influenced by Catherine. There was no need to create a situation disadvantageous to myself.
Above all, I found Marcel agreeable.
If he felt guilt enough to come directly and bow his head in apology, managing him would be far simpler.
“I appreciate your acknowledgment of your error, but I lack the authority to punish you, Lefebvre. You have merit in significantly reducing unnecessary casualties, and I have no wish to hold it against you excessively.”
“Pardon? Then your words mean….”
“It means I have no desire to trouble Mother over a trivial matter. The situation has not been fully resolved yet, after all. I cannot leave the Border Guard without leadership until this matter is settled.”
Though I had barely escaped the Demon’s grasp alive, my relationship with them remained in an ambiguous state—neither broken nor renewed.
“But the breach of contract… the Demons will not accept it quietly.”
“Since the contract has been violated, we must seal the breach with a new agreement.”
That was precisely where diplomatic negotiation could be properly employed. Moreover, I already possessed a trump card to play against the Demons.
“Speaking of which, have you seen the young child who attends to me? She has golden-brown hair and freckles—a cute little girl—but she’s grown quite angry with me and has run off….”
“Ah, if it’s that girl, she should be atop the pine tree in the Training Ground. I saw her through a window this morning.”
Bara was truly and thoroughly sulking.
It was only after I spent a full day and a half coaxing, pleading, and begging that Bara finally agreed to speak with me again.
‘I’ll go look.’
Bara answered curtly in sign language before heading toward the Unregistered Territory.
After enduring every insult Bara could muster—fool, hate, bad, and so forth—she had achieved a remarkable victory.
I spent four days in leisurely convalescence while awaiting Bara’s return.
Thanks to the soldiers whose lives I had saved competing to attend to me, the fireplace never went cold, and fresh cloths and medicine graced the table each day.
By the fourth day, word had spread to the villages near the Border Region, and women arrived in a steady stream at the Command Tower, eager to repay the kindness shown to their sons and lovers.
“Even for a patient, this is too much—how can she be so thin and frail!”
“Did she grow up without even a proper rice porridge? Well, what can you expect when she’s surrounded by nothing but men? Those bearded fools have no idea how to care for such a delicate young lady.”
Being residents of the Border Region Village, the women possessed remarkable skill in tending to the sick.
Iolet received the most meticulous care imaginable—even bathing assistance, something she had never experienced even at the Royal Palace.
Bara returned on the seventh day. And once again, the girl did not come alone.
* * *
Iolet fell momentarily speechless at the sight of the unexpected visitor.
“…Where did you find him, Bara?”
Bara pointed toward the Snowy Field beyond the window. It meant she had retrieved him from somewhere in the Unregistered Territory.
Iolet regarded the man before her with a sense of bewilderment.
Lucian Perein. He was the Guard Knight she had lost.
Lucian’s appearance was appalling. His entire body was caked with dried blood the color of rust.
His armor had vanished without a trace, leaving only the training garments worn beneath. Scars marked his body in numerous places.
Most notably, blood was caked messily around his left eye. The way he could not open it properly suggested a laceration above the eyelid.
But what truly stole her words was what he held in his grip.
Yes—a head. A human head.
Lucian was clutching someone’s head by the hair.
Iolet recognized it immediately as the head of the Demon she had encountered.
It appeared that Bara, who had gone searching for that Demon, had discovered Lucian as well and brought him here.
Though “brought” was perhaps too genteel a word. Bara had captured him. A noose around his neck, its other end held firmly in her hand.
Iolet barely managed to compose herself.
“I thought you would have returned to the Capital.”
“The other Black Eagle knights under my command likely intended to return.”
“That sounds as though you could not.”
“When one of my comrades witnessed me harming a fellow knight, they would hardly have allowed me to leave with them.”
Speaking in a flat, emotionless tone, Lucian tossed the Demon’s head he had been holding toward the Fireplace.
Judging by how thoroughly it had been hacked apart to prevent resurrection, the severed surface was ragged and torn.
Harming a comrade? That was unexpected.
I wanted to ask for the full account, but his gaze—sweeping over me from head to toe—left my lips sealed.
“It appears you have survived.”
“…Yes, that’s what happened.”
Lucian laughed hollowly, a bitter sound.
“That’s what happened… that’s what happened, Your Highness.”
His hoarse voice was muffled as he buried his face in his palms.
Even as the wound around his eye was pressed, he seemed to feel no pain. I noticed the angry red welts on the backs of his hands.
“You have succeeded in drawing me in after all. Does it satisfy you to have things proceed as you wished?”
A stifled voice leaked through the gaps between his fingers.
“Did you do this deliberately? Was even your death part of the plan?”
“…”
“So in the end, you orchestrated my removal from Elovis as well—it was all part of your plan, Your Highness.”
The Guard Knight was unstable. He had completely lost his composure. He was shattered.
“…Yes.”
Iolet affirmed quietly. There was no other choice.
“I hoped you would come to me of your own accord.”
“….”
“There was no other way to keep someone like you at my side.”
Of course, this was a lie.
Iolet did not wish to die.
Even with the certainty of resurrection, she did not wish to die. The terror of death rushing ferociously along the blade’s edge was something she needed to experience only once in a lifetime.
That she could survive even in the worst unforeseen circumstances was merely a final refuge, not something she had planned for.
Yet Iolet resolved to offer no excuses. The man before her looked utterly devastated.
Lucian seemed to need a target for his arrows of rage, and Iolet was willing to accept them willingly.
‘You may be angry. You may resent me. You have every right.’
A suffocating silence descended.
No—only Iolet was tense. Soon, the emotion that appeared on Lucian’s face was not as explosive as she had anticipated.
It was resignation.
His hands dropped limply to his sides.
Her heart sank.
“…Yes, I have lost.”
Lucian admitted desolately.
“I was blinded by compassion, it seems. When I saw you breathless, something within me severed as well.”
“My lord, that was not your fault….”
“When I came to my senses, I had killed the Adjutant.”
What?
Iolet’s eyes widened.
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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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