Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 122

In the early morning of coronation day, the carriage headed toward the Grand Temple.

In the streets, people had come out to understand what was happening, and the Central Defense Force, led by Marquise Crispin, lined up to ensure safety. There were occasional sounds of somewhat forced cheers. It seemed this was what Rakane Crispin, the Marquise, meant when she said she would take action in advance.

The people’s lukewarm response, contrasting with the excited cheers during the royal wedding, was paradoxical. At that time, the cheers were so loud they deafened him, unlike his dismal mood. Now, as they traveled to the coronation, the people’s tepid reaction brought a bitter smile to his lips.

When they arrived in front of the Grand Temple’s main hall, Eirik got off the carriage and looked up.

The Grand Temple was covered with the clear air and mist of early winter, much like the scene when they came for the royal wedding. But unlike then, his wife was no longer the despised princess but the ruler of the kingdom.

Tracing the reliefs on the majestic stone pillars of the Grand Temple with his eyes, Eirik grasped the thin hand that suddenly emerged from the carriage.

“You have arrived, Your Majesty.”

As Miesa alighted from the carriage, the waiting High Priest hurriedly bowed and greeted her. He then led Miesa, Eirik, and the attendants to the main hall, where he briefly reviewed the ceremony’s order.

After completing this, they had some free time. The High Priest took the Queen and her consort to his office to serve them tea.

“Your Majesty, the interrogation of the former High Priest is nearing completion. It turns out that Baroness Rezaille was the eldest daughter of Count Nomanier.”

The situation was as follows: The eldest daughter of Count Nomanier had secretly eloped with the son of Baron Rezaille during her reckless youth. Having manipulated her family to marry him and hiding in the western region, she survived three years ago when the Nomanier family was punished for blasphemy.

The reason the Nomanier family faced ruin was that they had sheltered the High Priest’s illegitimate child. Once that child grew up, the High Priest brought him into the temple as a priest and silenced the Nomanier family with accusations of blasphemy.

“Oh, I see.” Eirik nodded. He wondered how Miesa knew such things, but on reflection, he remembered that his mother had been somewhat acquainted with the Nomanier family. Thanks to that connection, they replaced the High Priest in just fifteen minutes.

Once the report on the temple trial’s progress was complete, the High Priest cautiously addressed Miesa.

“Your Majesty, if I may ask… why did you tell me to ask you to lift your head at that time?”

This was the remark she made when she replaced the High Priest just before the sacred ceremony during the hunting tournament.

Miesa smiled and replied, “Didn’t you wipe my face in the corridor of the Central Palace one winter six years ago? Do you not remember?”

“Ah…?”

He remembered the bloodied face of the princess squatting there, but the High Priest didn’t recall wiping her face, and he waved his hands dismissively.

“It might have been someone else, not me. If you appointed me as High Priest because of that…”

“No. You were already the Second Priest, so that was already settled. If you had kicked me and walked away then, the Third Priest might have taken that position.”

Miesa closed her eyes briefly, then spoke, “Didn’t you get scolded by the High Priest for the delay back then?”

Miesa moved her lips in a soft whisper so the priests guarding the office and her people wouldn’t hear. “He called you a useless glutton. Said you ate two bowls of Deribe porridge that morning.”

“Ah, yes! Yes, that happened! Good heavens…” The High Priest trembled slightly, then asked curiously, “Your Majesty, have you regained your memories?”

Miesa just smiled quietly. Eirik also listened with an expressionless face. But Eirik couldn’t help but chuckle at the High Priest’s next words.

“Since Your Majesty has heard the goddess’s words, I wish to discuss your ascension as a saint.”

Miesa instinctively rubbed her temple at the pure suggestion. To think someone actually believed that.

After pondering what to say, Miesa simply cut him off. “No. The goddess told me to become a queen, not a saint. So don’t bring this up again.”

“But… since you received the goddess’s oracle, you should naturally be elevated as a saint.”

As Miesa’s expression twisted, Eirik stepped in. “To bestow both the throne and the sainthood upon one person is a burden even the goddess would not wish to place.”

“Ah, I see. Understood.”

The High Priest looked at the queen with genuine regret but eventually had to comply. And so the discussion concluded, never to be mentioned again.

At noon, the coronation ceremony took place. Miesa, with a solemn expression, donned the royal mantle and knelt before the High Priest.

Inside the main hall, the only sound was the High Priest’s blessing, and it was so quiet one might have heard a dust ball rolling. Everyone held their breath as they watched the High Priest place the jeweled crown on the new queen’s head and the queen rise gracefully to take her seat on the central throne.

Miesa, scanning the faces of the nobles, smiled smoothly. Although the crown was a bit heavy, it was bearable. Despite never having dreamed of such a crown, she found it pleasing as it was the first adornment on her own body.

According to the ceremony’s order, the nobles took turns standing before the queen to pay their respects. Since Grand Duke Hagail was absent due to illness, the next in line, Duke Salachez, was the first to offer his greeting.

The Duke knelt before Miesa, kissing her hand with a look of heartfelt emotion and said, “May the goddess’s glory and blessing be upon the highest.”

While the Duke’s pride in knowing her was evident, the greeting left much to be desired. Again with the goddess.

Moreover, looking at the long line of nobles waiting to pay their respects, it was impossible to gauge how many times she would hear that word throughout the day. While Prince Consort Eirik Cladnier stood by her side, countless individuals pledged their loyalty by kissing the back of Miesa’s hand.

After the lengthy greetings, Miesa proceeded to the memorial hall where the late King Vermel lay. The High Priest guided her and explained, “We will be holding the vigil for the next two days, but no one has yet made their way here.”

Everyone seemed to be subtly watching the new queen’s mood. No one wanted to risk offending her while showing their loyalty to Vermel.

Miesa looked at the face of Vermel lying in the coffin with no particular emotion. Yet, as she turned away, she still felt a sense of regret for his peaceful death.

The pain she had endured so far could not be diminished by his lonely repose without visitors. Burying him in a common grave rather than the royal tomb was a sign of his lack of worth to the royal family, but thoughts of revenge did not cross her mind.

Her face was painted with fatigue and regret as she returned to the palace. When Miesa got into the carriage, Viscountess Manere stepped out and folded the long mantle trailing outside the carriage back inside.

“You should remove the mantle before boarding, but it’s unavoidable since your back is exposed.”

To the apologetic Viscountess Manere, Miesa responded, “You’ve done well. Thank you.”

Despite the evident exhaustion, Miesa’s warm words only served to confuse Viscountess Manere further about the queen’s true nature. However, she stepped back in silence as Eirik climbed onto the carriage.

The carriage should have only been for Miesa and Eirik, but Duke Salachez insisted on joining them, his face showing he had something to discuss.

“I felt it even in the early morning, but the people’s reactions are too lukewarm.”

When the royal carriage, having completed the coronation, left the Grand Temple in the afternoon, the cheers were a bit louder. This was due to the fact that the new queen was the daughter-in-law of House Cladnier and had married the Margrave of Cladnier. The name of the Prince Consort Cladnier gave people reassurance more than the queen herself, who was not well-known.

“Your Majesty, festivals are the best way to stabilize public sentiment. We should hold a grand celebration.”

“A festival?”

“People are simple. If they have many reasons to smile immediately, they believe their lives are happy.”

Duke Salachez cleared his throat and continued, “Of course, while Your Majesty will be happy now that you’ve ascended the throne, it will take quite a while for the people to realize this. Therefore, holding a festival will be a good method to quickly stabilize public sentiment.”

“We must not squander the national treasury. First, let’s review this year’s budget.”

As Eirik intervened, Miesa closed her eyes briefly, lost in thought.

“Oh, speaking of which, there is quite a bit of money to recover.”

Excluding others, it seemed that a considerable sum could be obtained even just from Count Silanz, the Minister of Finance. Miesa smiled slightly.

When the carriages arrived at the central palace, attendants and maids were waiting to greet them. However, one of the attendants at the front, seeming to have urgent news, waited for the carriage to stop. As the carriage came to a stop and Eirik opened the door, the attendant approached quickly.

“Someone from House Cladnier has arrived.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Former Margravine Cladnier has regained consciousness.”