Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 96

“The House of Salachez has been through a lot. It’s understandable,” Eirik said, offering some consolation, though he knew his own house could face the same turmoil one day.

Despite his thoughts of dismissing the significance of houses, the idea of the Cladnier name, which he had carried as both pride and shackle, disappearing was hard to fathom.

The two continued their idle chatter as they climbed. Not long after,

“There’s the cliff,” the Duke pointed out.

In the distance, the blue river met the cliff’s edge, appearing endless like the sea. The clear sky and scattered wildflowers on the lush grass made the scene breathtaking. Eirik halted his horse.

Should I bring Miesa here? No, there might be birds nesting near the cliff. Better not, he thought as he turned his horse around.

“Is that the right fork in the path?” the Duke pointed to a three-way split ahead.

“There are two paths; should we split up?” he suggested.

“What are you talking about? There are three paths…”

Eirik’s mind raced with the map’s details. The map showed only two forks. The third path must have been recently made, not on the map. He had a bad feeling about it.

“I’ll go alone,” he said, urgently turning his horse towards the new path.

He hadn’t ridden far when the seemingly uphill path began to descend. Eirik tightened his grip on the reins and sped up.

Then, from below, he heard a familiar horn sound. The urgent sound was abruptly cut off.

***

“Greetings. I am Emmerich of the Cladnier family. It’s a pleasure to meet you for the first time.”

“Hello.”

Rakane Crispin discreetly looked the man in front of her up and down. He was clearly the man the Cladnier family had proposed for marriage instead of Margrave Eirik.

With a demeanor that didn’t match a warrior’s physique, Emmerich seemed at best to be a pleasant fellow. He felt entirely different from the Margrave, whom she had seen multiple times. Then again, the Margrave greatly resembled his mother, so it wasn’t surprising that his paternal cousin looked different.

“The rumors of Lady Crispin’s beauty are well-founded, I see,” Emmerich continued.

It seemed Emmerich was the polar opposite of Eirik, not just in looks but in personality too. Rakane felt deep relief for her seven-year-old cousin, who had almost been betrothed to this man.

“Thank you for the compliment, but I must be on my way.”

“The second son of the Count of Carlisle is likely busy hunting rabbits now,” Emmerich remarked.

It seemed the rumors about the Marquis Crispin’s efforts to woo the Carlisle family had spread. But Rakane, with a face as smooth as a doll’s, responded calmly. “I might have other business to attend to. It’s not very pleasant to hear assumptions about an arrangement that hasn’t been properly discussed.”

Emmerich grinned slyly and responded, “If it hasn’t been properly discussed, then I still have a chance.”

Unwilling but pragmatic, Rakane quickly began weighing her options. The second son of the Count of Carlisle, or a cadet branch member of the Cladnier family. It was hard to determine which path would bring her more misfortune.

“I’m not sure about that,” she said, leaving an opening as she moved forward, with Emmerich quickly following and whispering.

“Don’t judge me by what you see now. Consider what could happen if you were to support me. You might see things more clearly.”

Rakane pondered his words carefully.

She knew some of Cladnier’s vassals were trying to replace the current Margrave with this man, and Eirik’s recent actions suggested he was plotting something rather than bowing to the king.

She had also received reports of the Cladnier family knights moving en masse through the Nieas Harbor ahead of the hunting tournament.

It suggested that Eirik’s days were numbered. And if Eirik were to fall, this man would have a chance. That meant she could potentially become the lady of the Cladnier family.

But is that the life she truly desires?

As Rakane was about to speak, several dozen royal guards cut in front of them.

As Eirik and his knights departed for the hunting grounds, Madam Cladnier gradually excused herself from the company of the vassals’ wives.

“I must take my leave now. I need to send Miesa off first.”

“Is the Margravine… not feeling well?” one of the wives asked cautiously.

Hearing the words “not feeling well,” Madam Cladnier smiled gracefully. “You all have such short memories, don’t you?”

“……”

“There have been strange rumors circulating lately, yet none of the vassals have stepped forward.”

The wives exchanged uneasy glances, unable to hide their discomfort. They were aware of the gossip that had spread outside about the tumultuous process of Eirik inheriting the title, but they didn’t know which side to support, so they kept their mouths shut. Moreover, they had heard unsettling rumors about the Margrave’s peculiar inclinations, which made them even more hesitant to take a stand.

“Well, we don’t really know how things are progressing these days,” one of the wives stammered.

“Not knowing is hardly an excuse,” Madam Cladnier scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s pointless to ask any more. I’ll be going now.”

At that moment, the wives, who had been listening with downcast eyes, suddenly widened their eyes and pointed toward something in the distance.

Following their gaze, Madam Cladnier turned to see dozens of royal guards approaching.

“What’s going on?”

“It looks like they’re coming this way.”

Madam Cladnier hurried forward, but before she could intervene, the captain of the guard raised his hand and shouted.

“The tent with two flags is the Cladnier Margrave’s tent.”

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, but her question was drowned out by the guards’ booming responses. With precise movements, they surrounded the tent, and the leading guards marched inside.

Miesa is in there, she thought, rushing to grab Tilberg, the captain of the guard.

“Captain Tilberg! What is the meaning of this?” she demanded.

Tilberg, who had been issuing orders to the guards with a stern expression, turned to face her. “Please remain calm.”

“But why—”

“The king is displeased.”

“……”

The color drained from Madam Cladnier’s face as Tilberg continued in a low voice. “If a sacrifice is needed, it must be made. After all, the Margravine will be forgotten in a day.”

“What are you saying? What do you mean by that?” she cried, grabbing his sleeve. But Tilberg turned away, ignoring her pleas.

“What are you going to do to Miesa?”

“Stay here, and once the Margravine is returned, you can comfort her then.”

Just then, Miesa’s screams echoed from the tent.

“Aaaah! Aaaaah! Aaah!”

A guard lifted the tent flap, revealing four royal guards carrying Miesa out by her arms and legs. They moved with practiced precision.

“Madam! Madam!” Gella, desperate, kicked one of the guards holding Miesa’s left leg, causing him to stumble.

“It is the king’s command. Defiance is treason,” declared the deputy commander of the guard, who wore a blue medal on his chest. He swiftly grabbed Gella and threw her to the ground, sending her crashing into one of the tent’s support poles, which collapsed.

Cullen, who was grappling with another guard, reached into his tunic and pulled out a small horn about two finger joints in length. In his haste, a pink lace ribbon spilled out from his tunic.

Pii—. Before the horn’s sound could fully resonate, a dagger flew into Cullen’s arm. As the deputy commander of the guard withdrew his hand, Tilberg barked an order.

“No unnecessary killing! Move the Margravine now!”

It was chaos. Miesa, struggling with all her might, was carried away like a piece of luggage. Madam Cladnier, trying to intervene, was restrained by the other wives.

“Stop it! Didn’t you see them brandishing swords?” one of the wives cried.

“They said there would be no killing if we remain calm,” another insisted.

“Miesa! Miesa!” Madam Cladnier called out, still trying to break free from the wives’ hold. But she couldn’t overcome the strength of seven women. The maids, standing at a distance, could only stamp their feet in helpless frustration.