The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 61

“Let him in.”

At Johanna’s slight motion of her finger, the door opened as if it had been waiting for her command.

Veronica watched Leon enter with a sense of unfamiliarity. He wore a black knight’s uniform, which, unlike the white or gold ones, complemented his fierce aura. Feeling her gaze, Leon turned his head in her direction. Their eyes met in midair. Her heart tightened.

His normally expressionless face displayed a rare flicker of emotion when he saw Veronica. His eyes, as if piercing through her, scanned her from head to toe. The intensity of his gaze felt like fire, making her skin sting as if melting.

“Sir Berg, this is the partner for your rehearsal of the vow. It’s a bit disappointing that you’re only giving your attention to that side, no matter how prettily it’s dressed up.”

The princess spoke with a teasing smile. Only then did Leon slowly turn his head away. As he stepped forward, passing by Veronica, she instinctively held her breath. The scent she knew so well surrounded her.

“The color is quite striking, so it briefly caught my eye. No matter how anyone is dressed, there is no woman on the continent more beautiful than Your Highness.”

Leon knelt on one knee, his voice devoid of emotion as he delivered the compliment.

Disappointment and despair flooded Veronica in equal measure. Leon, wearing white gloves unlike usual, kissed the back of Johanna’s hand as she sat in her chair.

Satisfied, Johanna glanced at Veronica.

Bad taste. Possessiveness. Excitement and pleasure.

It wasn’t love. The princess was like a child proudly showing off an expensive doll she had bought to her friends. She didn’t love the doll; she simply wanted to say, “I am better than you.” If it had been love, she would have kept any girl who liked her man far away.

She wanted to see Veronica’s painful reaction. So, Veronica had to pretend she was fine.

She knew this in her head, but controlling her expression wasn’t easy. The problem of the humiliation she felt before had long since passed. Veronica was trembling in fear of death.

The person wielding the sword was the man she had given her heart to.

The voices of the two conversing warmly grew faint and distant. Watching them from a distance, Veronica saw the princess finally raise her head and tilt it after a long while.

“Oh, you don’t look well. Is the dress uncomfortable?”

It was only when Leon also turned to look that Veronica realized the question was directed at her. In her panic, she barely managed to shake her head.

“No… I think I haven’t fully recovered yet, so I feel tired easily. I apologize.”

She thought she had grown stronger. She believed she had become tough enough.

“Really? I wanted to spend more time with you today, but that’s unfortunate. Very well. The Founding Festival is almost here, so you must conserve your energy. You may leave the dress on.”

With an expression that showed no regret at all, Johanna dismissed her.

Strange. Aren’t people born with everything supposed to be gentle? In fairy tales, the princess was lively and lovable. The villain was always the wicked queen yearning for the king’s love.

Maybe everyone carries a hole inside them. Maybe there’s no such thing as a human without some emptiness.

Bang.

To Veronica, the sound of the door closing was like the scream of a guillotine.

She walked for a moment, then stopped in front of a window that offered an especially good view of Blasen. There weren’t many people coming and going from the western tower where the princess resided today. Even as she stood in the corridor, not a single person spoke to her.

Perhaps that was why she hadn’t moved, even though her room was right in front of her.

Veronica stood there, staring at the swaying trees outside the window, waiting. For the person who had to pass through this path.

Foolishly, she wanted to see it for herself, to ask.

***

Leon thought about the woman for a long time after the door closed.

He had thought he might never see her again. When he had jumped in to save her, what he saw were Bahamuts protecting her. They formed a round barrier, like an egg, keeping the flames at bay. She was limp, as if dead, under the monsters’ protection.

It had been a long time since he had seen her face, and though it was still pale, there was more life in it than before. Her upturned eyes and red, wet lips. Leon couldn’t look away, as if entranced. Just a bit longer. After waiting for so long, just this much.

“Get up and sit beside me.”

The princess’s voice broke through his sinking thoughts. Leon lifted his head and met her cold blue eyes.

“If you permit me, I’d prefer to finish the rehearsal first.”

“Are you in such a hurry to get it over with and leave? You can do that last.” Johanna shrugged and patted the seat beside her.

Even so, when Leon still didn’t move, a maid approached. On the small table beside her, an intricately carved silver goblet and wine were set.

“After coming to see me after so long, will you keep acting so cold?”

The princess showed her growing displeasure. It wasn’t just Veronica who had been bedridden. His armor had melted into his skin, and burn scars remained. Leon looked at the cumbersome white gloves he was wearing before slowly standing up. He wasn’t afraid of the princess, but those she could harm were another matter.

“Have a drink. I’ve heard you enjoy it.”

A clear sound accompanied the pouring of the sweet-smelling wine.

“Did Sir Kraus perhaps speak ill of me to Your Highness? If so, please tell him he has no right to talk.”

“Oh, no, of course not. It wasn’t Sir Kraus. I heard it from my friend who just left.”

The wine glass paused at his lips. Without a word, Leon tipped it back, finishing it.

The princess didn’t touch her own glass, watching instead as his throat swallowed the sweet poison.

“The truth is, I don’t enjoy wine from the Southern Continent. Everything from the south feels impure. Don’t you agree? Even the potatoes that are popular with commoners these days.”

A maid filled the goblet again, rendering his effort to empty it pointless. The dark purple liquid flowed like blood.

“Is it because they’re not written about in the Scriptures?”

“Exactly. In a way, they are plants like Bahamut, aren’t they? I hear they propagate not by seeds but by roots. That peculiarity is proof of their demonic nature.”

Leon drank in silence rather than agreeing. From the princess’s words, he sensed the signs of an impending religious war.

He had more than enough understanding of why the higher-ups didn’t fear Bahamut. They were never afraid of war from the start.

Even if Bahamut disappeared, another war would break out in some land of the continent the following year.

Chesania and Tanbia, who had bowed their heads and converted before, wouldn’t back down this time. The command to burn their crops would directly impact their livelihood.

Leon briefly smiled.

Despite his serious speculation, his mind ended up fixated on that woman again.

Was it early on after they had just met? She had stubbornly refused to eat until she finally gave in to a few potatoes. When she blushed and asked for more, Leon thought for the first time that she was adorable.

“What’s on your mind, making you look like that?”

The princess’s soft hand turned his face. Leon placed the empty glass on the table, lowering his gaze.

“I was just thinking, as you said, that the crops from the south are indeed wicked.”

Saying what someone wanted to hear was easy for Leon, who had endured the Pope. The real problem lay elsewhere. He frowned, looking at the smiling princess.

His body felt strangely hot. A prickling sensation ran through his veins like needles. He knew this feeling well. It was the impulse he had suppressed the entire time he had stayed with Veronica at the inn.

“Is that so? Then our views align.”

Ah, the wine.

Leon glanced around. At some point, both the maids and attendants had disappeared.

Normally, he would have noticed right away, but he had let his guard down because of her. His greed had overwhelmed him. Leon grabbed the hand that had slipped down his collar, his lips twisting in disgust.

“Your Highness, it seems some shameless person has drugged the wine. You should call someone to investigate immediately.”

“Leon.”

Before she could say anything more, he pulled away and stood up. He couldn’t wait for the drug to fully take effect. He felt his vision blur and cursed under his breath. How much had they used, for just four glasses to do this?

“We must find the lowly wretch who dared do this, even if we have to search the entire palace. The rehearsal will be conducted early on the morning of the Founding Festival, as planned.”

He tried not to make it sound accusatory, but he couldn’t be sure. His words, calling the princess a lowly and shameless person, were an unmistakable rejection. Johanna’s face, now starting to blur, twisted in shame. Shouldn’t he be the one feeling ashamed?

“Sir Berg. Do not open that door.”

“For Your Highness’s honor, I must inform the knights outside.”

“If you leave now, you will surely regret it.”

He was already full of regret. Thankfully, Johanna did not get up to chase after him.

Leon flung open the door and stepped out into the sunlit corridor. Even the servants who normally waited outside had been dismissed, leaving the corridor empty. Now nausea began to rise. It wasn’t just an ordinary drug. Where had she gotten something this vile?

Muttering curses under his breath, Leon took a step. He descended the stairs. His steady stride faltered when he saw a woman’s figure standing firmly in his path. Wonderful. Leon ran a rough hand through his hair, brushing past her. Or at least, he tried.

“Wait.”

A slender hand grabbed his arm, stopping him. He looked down at the hand he could easily shake off if he wanted to. He stood frozen, as if even his soul was held captive.

“Let’s talk,” Veronica whispered, glancing around.

She pulled him somewhere.