Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 126

With Gella’s help, Miesa washed up and changed into her nightclothes. Gella, too, had become quite adept at her role as a lady-in-waiting, which meant she did what was needed and withdrew without unnecessary chatter.

Miesa felt inexplicably saddened. She still thought of herself as part of Cladnier, yet the throne she unexpectedly sat upon seemed to gradually push her away from the people she cherished.

Madam Cladnier inquired about her well-being in elegant writing every few days. Of course, to Miesa, who longed for the touch of the former Margravine’s hand stroking her hair, the letters on paper only added to her sense of longing.

Despite everything, Miesa didn’t feel as though Eirik was staying by her side merely out of duty and responsibility. Just this morning, he had kissed her cheek while she was pretending to be asleep before getting out of bed.

Recently, Eirik had been observing the morning training of the guards. Perhaps because of this, he and Captain Tilberg had become comfortable exchanging opinions with each other.

Even now, while Eirik was away attending to family matters at the Cladnier estate, Tilberg approached her as she sat in the study. It seemed he wanted to say something but hesitated before closing his mouth.

“What is it?”

“Your Majesty, the Margrave is quite exceptional as a warrior.”

“I won’t understand even if you explain it to me, so tell me properly. What exactly is exceptional about him?”

As Miesa leaned back in her chair and looked at him with a blank expression, Tilberg gave a wry smile.

Of course, from Tilberg’s perspective, the presence of Eirik Cladnier wasn’t entirely welcome.

When the young princess, whom he had desperately tried to protect, eventually had her royal marriage arranged, there was nothing Tilberg could do. All he could do was wish for her happiness from afar.

Then one day, Eirik Cladnier seemed to laugh at his efforts, binding the king to him and swiftly presenting the kingdom to her. Naturally, Tilberg felt intense self-doubt and inferiority. What he couldn’t achieve over years of dedication, sometimes resorting to deceit and betrayal, seemed effortlessly attainable for Cladnier.

He lost sleep over it. Yet, because his feelings for the young princess had been genuine, Tilberg treated the Margrave as amicably as possible, though he sometimes drifted into thought.

However, as he gradually learned more about the Margrave, the inevitable differences became apparent. It’s only when things are somewhat similar that feelings of inferiority arise, but as he became more aware of the gap between them, Tilberg gradually freed himself from his agony.

As a simple soldier, Tilberg now found the Margrave’s existence merely awe-inspiring.

“Your Majesty, the Margrave’s perspective is entirely different. Certainly, the guards excel in close combat, but someone who’s witnessed all kinds of battles thinks in ways that completely catch you off guard.”

Once he began talking, Tilberg was enthusiastic. Even while Duke Salachez and Viscountess Manere exchanged yawns, the captain’s words flowed endlessly.

“Have you heard about the Battle of Oeneka? They say out of over 120 knights, only two survived.”

Miesa’s expression changed completely upon hearing this. Although she knew war claimed many lives, learning about the pivotal moments in his life that she hadn’t known before was painful.

“I don’t want to hear about that now.”

“Ah, is that so?”

While Tilberg awkwardly hesitated, an attendant entered and whispered to Salachez. Upon hearing the news, Duke Salachez eagerly approached, his red hair bouncing.

“Your Majesty, the chief lady-in-waiting, Namirea, has agreed to confess everything she knows.”

“Shall we see what nonsense she’ll spout?”

Better that than hearing about the dangers Eirik had faced. Frowning, Miesa stood up from her chair, but Duke Salachez stopped her.

“No, Your Majesty. Do you really expect to learn anything from her?”

Upon reflection, there was something she needed to confirm. Miesa checked to make sure only her trusted people were in the study and then nodded.

“Namirea occasionally gave me drugs. I discovered they were sedatives, but there’s one drug I can’t identify. It might even be several kinds.”

“In that case, you must not go immediately.” Duke Salachez’s eyes sparkled as he spoke. “Don’t let her think the information she has is valuable. Let her stew a bit.”

Miesa sat back down. Duke Salachez was proving more useful than she had anticipated.

“Very well. Let’s do it that way.”

Miesa deliberately waited until the evening of the day after next to visit the secret chamber behind the office, bringing only Tilberg for protection and Duke Salachez for advice.

Even then, she didn’t listen to Namirea’s story. She merely observed the faces of Sellas, Namirea, and Dialle at her leisure.

She had instructed that they be given proper meals since she planned to enjoy this for a long time, yet they were all becoming gaunt. Even Dialle, who once grabbed Miesa’s hair with overflowing strength, now seemed hollow-eyed despite her size.

Count Sellas, who had once boldly suggested various methods of execution, was now drooling through the gag in his mouth. Miesa clicked her tongue at the sight.

“Get a hold of yourself, Sellas.”

“Ugh, ugh…”

“You dragged me to the aviary and spilled raw meat on my skirt, and now you’re showing such a pitiful sight?”

“…Ugh…”

Miesa clicked her tongue again at the sight of Count Sellas, who seemed out of his mind. She wanted to hold him accountable for completely ignoring the support requests from Cladis, but it seemed he might forget all the wrongs he had done.

Greatly disappointed, she left the secret chamber and flopped down on the office sofa, grumbling, “At this rate, they’ll die without me doing anything. Why are they all so weak?”

“……”

“Did I make them sleep on a pile of corpses or tear their families apart before their eyes? I haven’t done anything yet, so why are they like this?”

Listening quietly to Miesa’s complaints, Tilberg felt a sense of injustice himself. It seemed the queen didn’t understand just how nerve-wracking that “yet” could be.

Having heard the death throes of Carlisle and Maleca from inside their boxes, it was only natural for these captives to feel their blood run cold as they awaited their turn.

“Then why don’t you hear the former chief lady-in-waiting’s story tomorrow, Your Majesty?”

At Duke Salachez’s calming words, Miesa nodded, though she now felt it was time to dispose of these “gift boxes.”

After all, Vermel was the true source of the trouble, and he had died too comfortably. Tormenting only his remaining subordinates was beginning to fill her with inexplicable displeasure.

The next day, Namirea was dragged into the office, squinting against the bright light, curling up and groaning. Miesa sat in her chair, observing her without any particular interest. Behind her stood Duke Salachez.

When Tilberg removed her gag, Namirea gasped and quickly began to speak.

“Your Majesty. Count Sellas is behind everything.”

“At this point? What nonsense is that?” Miesa burst out laughing. “After all this time, that’s the best story you could come up with? I’m disappointed, Namirea.”

“Do you think young Vermel could have orchestrated the massacre of the Salachez family by himself? His maternal family was the foremost pillar of the palace.”

Despite being unable to fully open her eyes against the sunlight pouring through the windows, Namirea continued to speak.

“Count Sellas wanted to control the young Vermel. By currying favor and whispering all sorts of things in his ear, he cultivated a demon. In the end, he became nothing more than a minion of that demon.”

“A demon? He was just a madman. There’s no need to dress it up.”

Miesa realized that her fear of Vermel had finally disappeared from her heart, and she felt much better.

Even as she resolved to eliminate the secret chamber behind the office, Namirea didn’t stop talking. She had been planning this during her time in the chamber.

“Do you know why Count Sellas hated you so much, Your Majesty?”

“It was Vermel who tormented me. I don’t care why he hated me, so why should it matter what Count Sellas thought of me?”

As Miesa showed no interest in her words, Namirea desperately cut to the chase. “Count Sellas harbored an inappropriate desire for your mother, Your Majesty.”

This was the first time Miesa heard of such a thing. She glanced at Tilberg, wondering what this inappropriate desire might be. To her surprise, his face was filled with shock.

What could shock Tilberg, whose expressions usually showed little change, so much? Miesa finally began to listen to Namirea’s words, and Namirea, thinking she saw a way to save herself, raised her voice even more.