Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 107

“What’s done is done. There’s no point in dwelling on it. Mutilating a cold corpse won’t make any difference to a dead person.”

“…According to the doctrine—” Eirik began.

“Forget the doctrine. What do you think?” Miesa interrupted, blinking.

“Do you believe in souls after death?”

“I’m not sure… but I tend to think not,” Eirik replied with a bitter smile, knowing that his thoughts would sadden his mother.

Miesa grinned, “Since you, my god, say so, I’ll believe it too. Death is the end, and Vermel is done with. Let’s quickly get him out of our heads.”

“A moment ago, you said you received the goddess’s oracle. Your story changes several times a day,” Eirik teased.

“After everything I’ve been through, borrowing a name isn’t too much. I’ll use it whenever I need to,” Miesa giggled, pale-faced, making Eirik shake his head.

“I’ve thought this many times before, but Your Majesty, you certainly don’t shy away from any means.”

“Is that good or bad?” Miesa asked.

“It’s a compliment. I’m not capable of that,” Eirik replied, making Miesa’s eyes shine even in the dark.

Eirik gazed at her for a moment before speaking again, “Then I should repay your unwavering faith.”

“With what?” she asked.

“Would the Count of Carlisle, Count of Sellas, and Viscount Maleca suffice?” Eirik offered.

***

By the time the carriage arrived at the royal palace, it was already morning. Tilberg had arrived earlier to announce the king’s early return.

This caused a commotion in the central palace, but the king’s whims were nothing new, so no one was particularly surprised. However, some were puzzled by the captain of the guard’s final instruction: “Everyone must come out to greet His Majesty.”

“Did something happen at the hunting tournament? It’s one thing for him to return early, but why summon everyone?”

“He’s been quiet for the past few years… Maybe something upset him yesterday?”

“Silence!”

The whispering courtiers fell silent under the stern gaze of Chief Lady-in-Waiting Namirea.

“Everyone, stand properly.”

Namirea, having received the order, began by taking a headcount of the palace staff. She rounded up everyone, from the central palace to the annexes, including maids, kitchen staff, and laborers, even those on leave. The ensuing noise did not faze Namirea.

“One of the stable boys was badly injured recently and can’t walk…” a young maid pointed out.

“Everyone means everyone! If he can’t walk, he should crawl,” Namirea snapped irritably.

Counting heads here and there, Namirea frowned. Despite counting repeatedly, the central palace was missing one person.

“Wait. That Sidate woman hasn’t come.”

“I’ll fetch her immediately,” another maid replied.

Two strong maids hurried to the king’s bedroom in the central palace and brought back the king’s concubine, who was groaning in pain. Anika, her face bruised, stumbled as she was dragged out.

“Let me go,” she weakly protested, trying to shake off the maids’ grip. Ignoring her, they left Anika behind Namirea and returned to their places, whispering among themselves.

“She should at least cover those bruises.”

“No, the king prefers it that way.”

“Of course. That sly fox knows how to please him.”

Their murmurs died down as they noticed the solemn expressions of the lined-up guards, sensing that something was amiss.

“Do you know what happened last night?” one maid asked a guard, but received only silence in return. Despite their efforts, they learned nothing before Tilberg’s shout silenced them.

“His Majesty returns!”

The royal carriage appeared, and about two hundred courtiers bowed deeply at once.

The carriage stopped in front of the central palace. Namirea also bowed deeply, waiting.

As soon as the carriage door opened, someone stepped out first. Namirea found this unusual. The king would never exit so quickly upon arrival.

Then another person stepped out. Could someone have accompanied the king?

The footsteps were light, unlike the king’s. Namirea, who could recognize the king’s footsteps even in her sleep, knew it wasn’t the king approaching. She would bet all her accumulated jewels on it.

Judging by the controlled steps audible only thanks to the gravel path, it seemed like the steps of a young lady. Yet, if the king had brought someone, the order of exit was still wrong. The king would never escort anyone.

The footsteps stopped right in front of Namirea. She furrowed her brow, her eyes rolling up to peek, but she couldn’t see the person without lifting her head.

“……”

Should she raise her head just a little? As Namirea debated, Tilberg’s voice rang out like a reprieve.

“Raise your heads!”

Namirea straightened up—and froze.

“Put Namirea in the gift box too,” said the figure standing before her, smiling brightly. It was the pest from Celia Palace, standing there perfectly fine.

Miesa almost laughed out of habit, but she controlled herself, instead painting an elegant smile on her lips. She couldn’t, however, hide her lively steps and animated gestures.

“Daiel. Pallad, and Heisen… Ah, I don’t know his name, but that brown-haired one over there too.”

“Captain, did you hear that?” Eirik confirmed, and Tilberg gave orders to the guards.

“Arrest them all.”

As Miesa strolled past the line of courtiers, she pointed out individuals one by one. Some were dragged out, stiff with fear, while others, clueless, could only gape.

“Pablo, Sullian. And… huh?” Miesa paused and turned to Tilberg. “Tilberg, what about the attendant who replaced my water with dirty water that time?”

“Was there such a person?”

Tilberg was confused. After listening to Miesa’s description, he shook his head. “Daniel was executed for something else four years ago.”

Miesa’s shoulders slumped, like a child disappointed to learn that a desired toy was already sold out.

“They’re all dead. Vermel had poured boiling water on the blonde who had put trash in my room.”

“Marika? Did she really do that…?”

Listening to their conversation, Eirik was incredulous but stayed silent, following Miesa.

“It’s alright. The freckled one who made me eat bugs is still here.”

“Take her away,” Tilberg commanded his men.

While Tilberg gave orders, Miesa stopped in front of a short attendant and tilted her head. “This one is tricky. He was nice at first, then started hitting me on the head.”

“Arrest him.”

The courtiers watched in shock. The arrested ones turned repeatedly to look at Miesa, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Had it been Vermelique II ordering the arrests, they would have protested their innocence. But they couldn’t fathom why the madwoman of Celia Palace was suddenly clear-headed and smiling brightly as she singled them out.

Nevertheless, Miesa continued pointing out individuals, and the guards pulled them out one by one. By rough count, about thirty people were taken.

“Is this all?” Eirik asked, noting the lower-than-expected number.

Miesa frowned, displeased. “The rest are unfamiliar. I’ve only been to the central palace and Celia Palace.”

“Indeed,” Eirik replied, briefly glancing at the arrested before asking in a low voice, “Besides Chief Lady-in-Waiting Namirea, is there anyone else you wish to ‘gift’?”

“No, the rest are too bothersome. Just execute them appropriately. There should be ample evidence against them.”

“Understood.”

Miesa continued towards the central palace entrance, spotting someone she hadn’t seen before due to Namirea’s blocking presence.

“Ah, wait. Anika is still here.”

Miesa stopped in front of Vermel’s concubine, who was glaring and trembling.

“You’re the one I’m most curious about. I want to see Anika separately.”

Eirik approached respectfully and whispered, “Your Majesty, you should rest first.”

“…You’re right.”

Miesa nodded agreeably, and Tilberg raised his voice to command the guards.

“Strengthen the security around the central palace to the highest level.”

Tilberg then addressed the courtiers. “With the positions of counselor, chief lady-in-waiting, and chamberlain currently vacant, report to me until replacements are appointed. Now, return to your duties.”

The guards quickly dispersed.

The courtiers, having sensed something unusual for a while, couldn’t form a solid theory. Even those not directly associated with the central palace had at least heard rumors about the princess’s poor condition or seen her being dragged through the hallways.

Eventually, one maid nervously approached a guard and asked discreetly, “Excuse me, but… that person…”

“Speak,” the guard prompted.

“That person, who… who is she?”

“That person? Which person do you mean?” the guard asked, frowning.

“Do you not recognize the Margrave? Surely, you must know Her Majesty.”

The maid had unknowingly approached one of the guards who was fiercely loyal to the new queen. He was among the four who had carried Miesa, then the Margrave’s wife, from the Cladnier family’s tent the previous night.

Seeing the late king’s corpse being moved out of the tent had been a shock for the guards. Realizing who the new monarch was left even the most stoic guards pale. They barely interacted with her while she stayed in the palace before the royal marriage, but they remembered the incidents at the hunting tournament.

However, Captain Tilberg immediately relayed the queen’s message: “Her Majesty has no intention of punishing anyone for today’s events.” Skeptical at first, the guards observed the queen’s clear-headedness and noticed she wasn’t prone to capricious violence like Vermelique II. Believing in her promise to let bygones be bygones, they decided to lie low and comply.

This particular loyal guard sternly warned the courtiers, “You must serve Her Majesty properly from now on. She is no longer the princess you once knew.”

Having rationalized the transition from yesterday’s king to today’s queen, the guard’s voice carried no hesitation.