Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 104

A young woman in a plain white dress ascended the platform. Thanks to the torches surrounding the area, her royal features were visible even from a distance. There was only one person who fit that description.

But that made it even more confusing. Her straight posture, confident steps, and every little gesture were entirely different from the Margravine they knew.

Even Duke Salachez, who had given instructions to his mercenaries and returned to the crowd, was dumbfounded. He had assumed Eirik Cladnier intended to use his disoriented wife as a puppet on the throne. Never had he imagined the Margravine would appear in such a clear-headed state.

The woman stood in the center of the platform, looking down at the crowd with a composed expression. The silent crowd, eyes wide, only enhanced the eerie atmosphere of the chilly autumn night.

After a moment, the woman spoke, “Vermel Esquillir failed in his duties as king and indulged in tyranny. He was obsessed with slaughter, killing many under the pretext of strengthening royal authority.”

Her voice, full of authority, echoed with such intensity that it was hard to believe it came from such a delicate frame. The surreal nature of the scene caused murmurs of disbelief to ripple through the crowd.

“Therefore, I, Miesa Esquillir Cladnier, have executed him to restore order to the kingdom. And now, I declare my commitment to serve the kingdom as its queen.”

At a signal from Tilberg, the guards hung something on the wooden wall. It was the body of a man in blood-stained clothes.

Realizing it was the king’s corpse, short screams erupted from various parts of the crowd. However, the people still struggled to connect the events unfolding before them. The madwoman who had been hunched over and staring at the ground just that afternoon was suddenly proclaiming herself queen.

“Wait, but… aren’t you the Margravine?” stammered the second son of the Carlisle family, the first to regain his senses. He was set to marry into the Crispin family, with his father and elder brother already bound.

Seeing Vermel’s body hanging on the wall, the second son’s mind raced. He sensed that those who had thrived under the previous king were now in danger and spoke out resolutely. “According to the laws of the kingdom, the princess loses her succession rights upon marrying into the Cladnier family. How can you claim the throne?”

A few others groaned in agreement.

Eirik, standing in front of the platform and facing the crowd, also turned to look at Miesa. There was a hint of unease on his face. While he had helped Miesa prepare her speech, he had not considered the issue of succession rights.

Miesa, however, did not hesitate for a moment. “As you all know, I have not been of sound mind. After a significant shock today, I regained my senses only to learn I was married. Marquis Britz, are you here?”

The Grand Justiciar, Marquis Britz, raised his hand in surprise at being called out suddenly.

“I was married without my knowledge. How is this handled?”

“Ah, well… that,” Marquis Britz stammered, unsure of the consequences of his words. Though he had had some discussions with the Cladnier family, he was not privy to this specific situation. Having been called out, he had no choice but to provide a general answer.

“Such marriages are often annulled. For instance, it happens occasionally with individuals who are sent to monasteries and unknowingly married into other families…”

“You all heard him. I annul my marriage.”

Faces flickered in the torchlight as people whispered to each other. Eirik’s face was among them. Though he appeared composed, Miesa noticed his raised eyebrow and knew he was taken aback.

To reassure him, she quickly continued, “I just discussed this with the Margrave, who expressed his intention to secede from the Esquillir kingdom. However, I cannot allow the Cladnier family, which has protected this land for 350 years, to break away and become a separate state.”

Rather than feeling reassured, Eirik narrowed his eyes, realizing he had been thrust into the role of the ruler of a newly independent state.

Others also held their breath, waiting for what she would say next. Considering they had already killed the king, declaring independence seemed plausible. The second son of the Carlisle family whispered urgently with his mother but struggled to come up with a rebuttal.

“Therefore, I intend to welcome the head of the Cladnier family back as my consort. The law in question applies only to royal family members other than the king and queen, so once I ascend to the throne, there will be no issue with remarrying the Margrave. Even if someone objects, they will find no fault with a national marriage to the ruler of the Cladnier state.”

And then Miesa slowly continued her final words. “However, to save on state expenses, I do not plan to hold another royal wedding. As a compromise, I will temporarily refrain from using the Cladnier family name until the coronation.”

Miesa looked down from the platform at Eirik. Seeing his familiar expression of disbelief, she suppressed a smile and signaled to Tilberg.

Tilberg, following Eirik’s instructions, announced to everyone. “First, Her Majesty’s consecration ceremony will be held here. The coronation will formally take place in the Great Hall in seven days.”

With the counselor and chamberlain absent, Tilberg had to take on their roles. Surprisingly, given his long service as the captain of the guard, he performed his duties flawlessly.

The high priest, hurriedly summoned, appeared with the holy oil, waddling as he approached. However, Miesa’s expression grew increasingly grim as she watched him.

“A woman burdened by her mother’s sins should be devoted to prayer. Yet she seems to lack the presence of mind to do so.”

The words spoken by that smug face still echoed in her ears. That she must accept the blessing of the goddess from this man was distasteful.

Miesa tightly gripped the hem of her dress. Eirik, noticing this from below the platform, signaled her.

[Important], [Urgent].

But Miesa responded with her own signal.

[Dirty], [Wrong].

Eirik sighed and looked around. The knights and mercenaries disguised as hunters had just begun to surround the platform and the nobles. In the worst-case scenario…

[30 minutes].

Eirik signaled. Miesa grinned and gestured back.

[15 minutes].

There was no way to replace the high priest and complete the consecration ceremony in 15 minutes. But Eirik decided to trust her for now. Trusting meant not stopping her, but preparing a contingency plan was his responsibility. Eirik called Cullen to strengthen the security.

Meanwhile, Miesa’s voice echoed in the cool night air. “That man is not qualified to be the high priest, nor to conduct the consecration ceremony.”

“What… what nonsense is this?” The high priest trembled with rage. Those around him, including the priests who followed him and even Tilberg, who had not grasped the sudden change, were shocked.

Without the immediate consecration, the queen’s first prayer as ruler would be nullified. This would undoubtedly hinder future proceedings, but Miesa remained composed and slowly sat down, as Eirik always did when he had much to say.

“The high priest not only consorted with a priestess but also fathered a child, whom he then appointed as the First Priest. That alone warrants excommunication and punishment.”

“Preposterous!” the high priest’s face turned red with anger. Everyone who knew the truth had handled it discreetly, and with the former king dead and unable to speak, he had no reservations about denying it.

“Baseless rumors! Who dares to spread such lies? The captain of the guard? Or is it the Margravine, still unable to discern reality?”

Miesa gestured to Tilberg, but it was not to confirm the truth. “Tilberg, in such cases, is this under the jurisdiction of the Captain of the Central Defense Force?”

“No, Your Majesty. There are special temple guards. Some of them should be here today as well.”

“Very well. Where are the temple guards? Step forward,” Miesa commanded.

From behind the crowd of white-robed priests, the blue-uniformed temple guards emerged. Miesa commanded them as they nervously lined up.

“Take Baroness Rezaille as a witness. The high priest hid his illegitimate child on the Count of Nomanier’s estate.”

The temple guards exchanged bewildered glances. They had never heard that the First Priest was the high priest’s illegitimate child, nor did they understand the connection between the Count of Nomanier and the Baroness of Rezaille.

However, the high priest, hearing this, shouted, “You must have prepped someone in advance to make such claims, but how dare you blaspheme against the servants of the goddess!”

The mention of the goddess brought a look of displeasure to Miesa’s face. Misinterpreting this as nervousness, the high priest’s voice grew stronger.

“The goddess sees all. You think you can control this country by killing the king and imprisoning me, the high priest—” he ranted.

Miesa listened silently, which further emboldened the high priest. He raised his voice even more, as if rebuking a sinner. “Miesa Esquillir! Do you not fear the judgment of the goddess? The punishment that will descend on the steed of lightning and thunder!”