Queen of Revenge - Chapter 83
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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 83
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Though she had said as much, Iolet never truly believed Ahil could spirit her away from the Royal Palace.
Late in the evening, using a stroll as her pretext, Iolet ventured into the Garden and waited for him at their designated meeting place.
Unlike Iolet, who had dwelt solely within the Queen’s Palace and the East Tower, Ahil primarily inhabited the Main Palace and the Crown Princess’s Palace. He had memorized every conceivable gap and patrol-sparse corridor within these walls.
“Sister, it’s this way.”
Ahil, who had arrived first, gestured to her.
Iolet followed him into the dense shrubbery that appeared as an impenetrable wall.
“I had no idea there was a passage leading directly outside the Palace.”
“It was built as an escape route for the King in times of crisis. It’s no longer used for regular passage, but it remains traversable. This way.”
Ahil felt along the grass and located a metal ring embedded in the ground, then pulled it. The lid, camouflaged seamlessly beneath the turf, swung open to reveal a shaft descending into darkness.
“You need only jump down. I’ll go first, and you follow after me.”
“What? Wait—”
Before Iolet could even respond, Ahil leaped into the pit below.
“Come. I’ll catch you.”
Ahil’s form vanished into the impenetrable darkness. Only his voice reached her.
Iolet peered down into the pitch-black chasm, then inserted her legs one at a time before dropping into the void.
“…!”
The sensation of falling was far more intense than she had anticipated. As her heart went cold, a gentle impact struck her back and the backs of her knees.
“Are you unharmed, Sister?”
Ahil had caught her without fail. Despite having received a woman falling from such a height, he remained perfectly steady.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Iolet descended lightly from his embrace and touched solid ground.
When Ahil pulled the cord attached to the lid, the entrance sealed shut and absolute darkness consumed the passage.
“Your hand…”
As Ahil hesitantly began to speak, Iolet was already groping through the darkness to find him.
Only after feeling her way across the boy’s body several times did Iolet finally locate his hand.
“I might stumble, so hold on to me.”
“…”
Startled, Ahil reflexively seized her hand with surprising force. Then, a beat too late, he let out an involuntary gasp.
Iolet could not help but laugh at his reaction.
‘How endearing. A boy with such a cute face does equally cute things.’
Though the grip of his hand was hardly cute at all. Only after Iolet mentioned her wrist bones felt as though they might dislocate did the boy hastily relax his hold.
How long they walked along the sloping passage in darkness, she could not say. The faint sound of bustling chatter that had been echoing from somewhere gradually grew louder.
“We’re almost there.”
Ahil halted and opened a certain door.
The Secret Passage terminated in the basement of an old Warehouse beyond the Palace walls.
Iolet emerged from the Warehouse. Before her unfolded a city that pulsed with living vitality—a sight utterly unlike the solemn grandeur of the Royal Palace.
“…!”
Despite the late hour, luminescent stones burned without restraint, casting brilliant light across the surroundings. The bustling Shop Street overflowed with carts and wagons crammed with goods and people.
Iolet had never ventured outside the palace at night before.
Countless pedestrians brushed past her on either side. She felt slightly dizzy.
“Pardon me, let me through!”
“Sister.”
Ahil quickly extended his hand to steady Iolet’s shoulders.
Someone who had nearly collided with her apologized loudly and vanished into the crowd. Iolet barely managed to collect herself.
‘I need to be more careful….’
In that moment, a low clicking sound of disapproval echoed in her ears.
Startled by the irritated noise, Iolet lifted her gaze. Ahil had turned his head, glaring in the direction where the pedestrian had disappeared.
Perhaps because he was looking down from above, the saturation of his golden eyes was surprisingly muted.
The boy muttered coldly.
“How careless—.”
“Ahil?”
Ahil blinked, and his gaze lowered swiftly.
Iolet was reflected in his darkened golden eyes—eyes that bore an uncanny resemblance to the Late King. A chill crept through her chest.
But soon the boy’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. The color bloomed across his pale skin like flower dye on white paper, and the moment he smiled shyly, the phantom image of the Late King vanished entirely.
‘Was it just my imagination?’
“Let’s go, sister.”
Ahil positioned her on his right side and flagged down a passing carriage.
As Iolet climbed aboard, she murmured.
“You should smile like that every day.”
“If that’s what you wish, I will.”
“…Do you visit the Uter Duchy often?”
“I was originally scheduled to visit House Uter this evening. The Marquis instructed me to check on the Duke’s condition. I sent word ahead that I’d be delayed, so they should understand.”
The carriage arrived at its destination roughly ten minutes later.
The Gatekeeper of the Uter Duchy, recognizing Ahil, promptly opened the gates. A Steward was waiting to receive them.
“Welcome, young master. And this person is…?”
“This is Princess Iolet… well, the Princess. She wished to see the Duke directly, so I brought her.”
Ahil stumbled over his words, still unaccustomed to speaking in casual terms.
“…Princess Iolet?”
The answer came from atop the staircase.
Iolet removed her cloak and turned toward the manor’s central staircase.
An elderly man, halfway down the stairs, stared at her with eyes wide open.
His dark auburn hair was streaked generously with white. Fine wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes and mouth, but it was unmistakably the face she knew.
“Master.”
He was Isaac Uter, the Duke—my first and only teacher in life.
The Duke descended the remaining steps. His right leg seemed to trouble him; his gait was unsteady.
“Ten years… no, more than twelve years have passed. It has been far too long, Your Majesty.”
Iolet gathered the sides of her dress and offered a formal greeting.
Mother had always insisted that one must show such courtesy to those from whom one receives instruction.
However, The Duke shook his head as if uncomfortable.
“There is no need for such courtesy. I heard you departed for the Border—when did you return?”
“His Majesty summoned me, so I arrived just this morning.”
“Without even resting from your journey, why did you come all this way in person?”
“I heard there had been an incident at House Uter.”
Iolet hesitated briefly before adding,
“Are you well?”
Apparently unprepared for such concern from Iolet, The Duke fell silent for a moment.
“Word has already reached you, it seems. When House Melcier mentioned bringing an honored guest, I wondered who it could be… In any case, please come inside. Steward, it is late—bring us some herbal tea.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The Duke led her to his Office.
True to a household renowned for its scholarly pursuits, the Office was lined with bookshelves.
Yet the volumes housed here were but a pittance compared to House Uter’s Library, which was called the repository of all knowledge in Elovis.
“You may return first, Ahil. This may take some time.”
Ahil departed quietly without protest.
The moment the Office door closed, Iolet broached the subject.
“Where is Prince Uter now?”
“He is detained at the Security Force. I hoped to care for him here at the Estate until his trial, but I was told it is impossible.”
With his son’s life hanging in the balance, sleep was impossible. The Duke’s eyes were darkened from days without rest since the incident began.
“The final hearing is in four days, I believe.”
“Perhaps… the outcome will not be favorable. With my only son facing death, it seems the fate of our house ends here. …I may well deserve this punishment.”
Iolet stared at the untouched teacup.
She understood what The Duke meant by ‘punishment.’
When Charlotte was engulfed in scandal, The Duke had maintained silence.
Not only that, but no nobleman had stepped forward to defend her. The evidence of Charlotte’s transgression was clear, whereas evidence to the contrary was nonexistent.
Had even one nobleman who had cultivated a personal connection with Charlotte defended her, the situation might have changed, but the Late King’s fury was boundless.
The nobles could only watch nervously, none daring to speak.
The Duke offered a weak smile.
“Here I am, lamenting before you like a foolish old man. Please regard it as the ramblings of a senile elder.”
“Master.”
“Do not call me that. I have no right to be His Majesty’s teacher.”
“I have taken charge of this trial.”
The Duke, who had seemed ready to leave and was glancing toward the door, froze entirely.
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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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