Queen of Revenge - Chapter 42

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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 42
“Lucian is the root of all these incidents. And I find it impossible to believe that the Princess was unaware of this situation.”
“….”
“Or perhaps you seduced Lucian knowing full well what would happen.”
Contempt seeped through the accusatory tone.
It was understandable, really—rumors still circulated among the nobility that Princess Iolet was utterly dissolute.
‘So I’ve become a wanton woman who seduced a loyal knight? Well, it’s not entirely divorced from the truth.’
Behind the partition, Lucian clenched his fists.
Iolet tapped the partition twice for her knight, whose blood must be boiling.
Unless Lucian himself went before the Crown Princess and bowed his head, her resentment toward House Perein would not easily fade.
And of course, Iolet had no intention whatsoever of pushing her knight into such a position.
“There seem to be various misunderstandings, but that’s not important. So if Lucian doesn’t return, it would suffice if House Perein could simply clear their name of this unjust suspicion?”
“I cannot imagine any solution other than Lucian’s return.”
“Couldn’t House Perein actively rescue Count Leon? After all, proving loyalty to my sister is what matters.”
“Poison was detected in the tea that Count Leon presented. How could we possibly save him from that?”
Simon pressed the point like a prosecutor.
Iolet fell silent, toying with her teacup.
If Catherine dug too deeply into the poison’s origin, it would be troublesome for Iolet.
That was something Iolet had requested from Kairon.
Of course, when making that request, she had asked for something of unclear provenance, but one never knows how the world works.
If the investigation continued, there was a risk that Ahil’s involvement would be exposed. And she couldn’t rule out the possibility that the blade of inquiry might turn toward her.
‘There’s no need for the fire to spread that far.’
Having reached her decision, Iolet leaned back against the sofa.
“From my perspective, the solution is simple. Given the sincerity you’ve shown in coming all this way, I’ll tell you what I want. On one condition, though—you must give me what I desire in return.”
* * *
When Simon left the Princess’s Reception Room, the sun had already set.
He checked the clock mounted on the outer wall of the Command Tower. He had no time to catch his breath before departing.
“Lucian, are you listening?”
Only a desolate wind swept through the fortress. There would be no time to reconcile with his younger brother.
Simon recalled the face of the Princess he had just confronted.
This was the third time he had seen Princess Iolet in person.
Once during Queen Charlotte’s lifetime.
Then again, ten years later, at the Founding Day Banquet.
And now.
“…Perhaps your choice was the right one after all. Regardless of my own convictions.”
The rumors of her injury seemed to be true—the Princess was deathly pale.
Simon had never seen a woman who looked so transparent, beyond merely white.
The Princess resembled a sugar figurine that would shatter into pieces at the slightest wrong touch. Her small frame was wrapped tightly in fluffy fur, and her gestures and movements were as light as down.
It was unexpected that such a delicate appearance could produce a low, measured voice.
The skillful way she guided the conversation without relinquishing control proved she was far less fragile than her appearance suggested.
But what truly astonished me was the Crown Princess’s insight.
I had merely mentioned Count Leon in passing, yet from that slender thread, she grasped the tension that had settled over the Royal Council.
‘A single word, and she deduces the whole picture. She doesn’t fall for needless provocations, and she sees the true nature of events with perfect clarity.’
Without a genuine interest in royal politics, one could never penetrate so easily through the labyrinthine machinations where countless factions twisted together in complex entanglement.
Even the method she presented with such apparent magnanimity demonstrated this.
“Are you suggesting we replace Count Leon’s trial with a different matter?”
“Exactly. After all, the other tea sets Count Leon brought contained no poison, didn’t they? Only the one that reached Mother’s tea table is the problem.”
“That is correct. Which is why the investigation has stalled.”
“Then the true essence of this matter isn’t what scheme Count Leon was hiding—it’s that he presented a tribute without any suspicion, and it was delivered to Mother without question. No one paid attention to the safety of the tribute itself. Advise Elder Sister to propose a ban on tributes as the new agenda.”
“Pardon? But tributes are….”
“When you seize upon the fundamental issue, the secondary problems are easily buried. Elder Sister will understand.”
It was an entirely fresh perspective that never strayed from the heart of the matter.
‘A ban on tributes….’
Certainly, it wasn’t a method that favored only the Crown Princess.
Yet it was the only breakthrough I had found in a situation that had felt suffocatingly hopeless.
“I never expected to gain such a harvest.”
I had exchanged my brother’s whereabouts for the Crown Princess’s counsel.
In the end, I hadn’t met Lucian, but even if I had, bringing him back to the Capital would have been difficult.
Simon merely turned his head to gaze down the empty corridor.
“I intend to report to the Royal Family that your injuries are severe and that your days as a Guard Knight have ended. Your position as Vice Commander of the Black Eagle and your qualifications as a knight will be revoked—see that you’re aware of this. Be cautious of watchful eyes here as well.”
….
“It’s fortunate you weren’t gravely wounded. Take care of yourself, Lucian.”
* * *
Simon returned to the Capital that very day.
By exaggerating matters and eating and sleeping in the saddle, I managed to advance my return schedule by half a day.
After merely rinsing the dust from my body, I entered the Palace immediately. The Royal Council was convened at noon that very day.
Marquis Perein, who had arrived earlier, sought out his eldest son.
“Lucian was injured that severely?”
“Yes. His right leg was damaged beyond use. It wasn’t merely a bone or two broken—he couldn’t even be lifted from his bed onto a carriage. He was suffering from recurring high fevers due to inflammation.”
“Useless fool. What was he dawdling about to invite such trouble?”
“Surely he didn’t wish for it. He was so devastated at being unable to wield a sword for some time that I’ve never seen him in such despair.”
Unlike his younger brother, who had no talent for deception, Simon recounted everything without the slightest change in expression.
Marquis Perein grew indignant.
“Spare me such comfort. Without Lucian, how am I to clear the Crown Princess’s misunderstanding? If Count Leon’s trial is decided today, do you truly believe Her Highness will leave us unscathed?”
“Regarding that matter, I have a thought.”
The Marquis’s expression shifted as he listened to Simon’s explanation.
* * *
The Royal Council session that began at noon continued until sunset.
Marquis Perein introduced a new agenda at the meeting.
It was a proposal to enact what was called the “Tribute Prohibition Law” to prevent the recurrence of such unseemly incidents.
“All items presented to His Majesty the King and Her Highness the Crown Princess must undergo official inspection by the Treasury Ministry, and the Minister of Finance shall maintain a record of such proceedings. I propose that all private presentations outside this process be strictly prohibited. This measure would allow us to filter out any unidentified poisons or other hazardous materials beforehand.”
“If we follow your logic, no nobleman or official would be permitted to present gifts directly to the Royal Family. Is that your intention, Marquis?”
Duke Uter rested his chin on the back of his hand with evident interest. Uter was among the rare families that had maintained unwavering neutrality for generations.
“As for myself, I have little to give and little to lose, so it matters not. But I wonder if the rest of you feel the same way.”
“Marquis Perein raises a valid point, but to ban private presentations entirely? It seems rather abrupt, does it not?”
Count Monfer offered a timid counterargument.
“While it may not be written into kingdom law, gift-giving is virtually a time-honored tradition of the nobility. Her Highness the Crown Princess would hardly object, I should think.”
Yet he faltered under the sharp gazes of Perein and Marquis Deloras and Count Lorang—fellow supporters of the Crown Princess.
‘Do you not grasp the gravity of this situation? Without measures of this caliber, there is no way to mitigate Count Leon’s culpability.’
The fates of the Crown Princess and her supporters hung entirely upon Count Leon’s life or death. Whether they liked it or not, they had to cast their votes in favor.

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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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