Chapter 75
The One Who Chases the Stars
Early in the morning, Erne gathered everyone together.
The Marquis Damian, who had returned alive, claimed that Babylon had been targeting him.
She felt the need to come up with countermeasures together with these people she had painstakingly gathered.
No matter how firmly she held her position as queen by crushing others with her status, she concluded that unless she cut the problem off at its roots, threats against her and those dear to her would never cease.
This was undeniably a profound, urgent, and critical meeting.
But then…
“Then how about this?”
“What is it?”
Just when it seemed the Marquis Damian was deep in thought, as if he had come up with a brilliant idea, he lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. Everyone else instinctively followed suit.
“We execute him because his eyes are too slanted and I don’t like them!”
“……”
Erne was momentarily speechless. Was he serious?
But apparently, she was the only one who felt the chill in the air. Every discussion up until now had been along these lines.
Erne stifled a sigh, but the twins reacted differently.
“Not a bad idea, Marquis.”
“Oh, Marquis! You’re a genius!”
Ribera nodded in agreement, and Noma even gave him a double thumbs-up.
“Unbelievable…”
At that moment, Wizards’ voice cut in, and Erne pinned her hopes on him.
“That’s a good idea, father-in-law.”
…Or not. Erne stared off into the distance.
“Why on earth am I your father-in-law?! Drop that outrageous title immediately!”
“Father-in-law, please don’t get so angry. It’s bad for your blood pressure. Since Her Majesty and I are engaged, it’s only natural I call you that.”
“I–I refuse to accept this!”
The morning was as rowdy as could be. The chirping sparrows outside the window sounded far sweeter by comparison.
Erne slapped the side table and shot to her feet.
“Silence! Please be quiet during the meeting! And stop fighting amongst yourselves—we’re on the same side!”
Her fiery command brought everything to a halt.
As the meeting resumed, Noma sheepishly raised her hand.
“Then what about executing him because he’s ugly—”
Erne raised her hand before the sentence could even finish.
“Absolutely not. You can’t execute someone just for being ugly. The public needs a reason they can accept.”
When she dismissed Noma’s suggestion, the latter muttered gloomily,
“But that guy’s uglier than me…”
Apparently, Noma’s narcissism about her own face was stronger than Erne had thought.
Ignoring her, Erne pressed them for better ideas.
Ribera cleared her throat, as if to say it was her turn, and spoke.
“Let’s frame him. Say he’s infertile.”
Erne gaped in disbelief. She had thought Ribera was the more sensible of the two, but clearly, she was no better—perhaps worse.
Wizards, seeing Erne’s stunned expression, chimed in on Ribera’s suggestion.
“If lying bothers you, I could make it true.”
“Aaagh!” Erne clamped her hands over her ears, shaking her head violently. She didn’t want to know what he meant by make it true.
“Give me a realistic solution. I’m talking about revising the constitution and creating a lawful framework for punishing him—not just spouting absurd reasons to kill someone!”
Apparently, they had reached the limits of their creativity. The room fell silent as a graveyard, and Erne pressed her fingertips hard against her temples. This was proving hazardous to her mental health so early in the day.
She had foolishly believed that brainstorming together would yield a good plan.
How naïve of me to expect collective intelligence from these people.
With a heavy sigh, Erne voiced what she had been thinking all along.
“Father, please persuade the central nobles. Get those who will support a constitutional amendment on our side.”
“Leave that to me.”
“Twins, you two will stay here for the time being. No more Crow missions.”
“Here?”
The twins exchanged puzzled looks, and Erne stirred her tea as she explained.
“You know I haven’t been on the throne for long. I need people I can trust. People who can handle anything I ask discreetly, without letting a word slip outside. My hands and feet, eyes and ears. Who else can I trust but you?”
She intended to have the twins look into matters of sorcery.
The simple-minded Noma grinned widely and nodded eagerly, while Ribera wiped her nose and straightened her shoulders, clearly pleased to be trusted.
“Of course! Leave it to us!”
“But when you’re around others, don’t talk like you did today. You need to be formal and respectful in front of outsiders.”
“…Oh.”
The firm tone made the twins’ faces turn awkward.
Erne was used to them. Sometimes, being with them made her forget she was a queen.
Noticing how even the Marquis spoke respectfully to his daughter, Ribera realized her mistake and corrected herself.
“Understood, Your Majesty.”
“Uh—yes. Your Majesty.”
Ribera adapted first, and Noma quickly followed suit. It still sounded awkward, but it would improve with time.
Finally, Erne turned to Wizards.
“As for you, Wizards…”
Just hearing his name made him draw his sword from its scabbard with a metallic shing.
The cold gleam of steel made Erne shake her head immediately.
“No, not that. Put it away.”
He licked his lips in disappointment before asking,
“Then what would you have me do? Everything is as you command.”
Meeting his intense gaze, Erne felt as though time had stopped.
“Keep an eye on Derrick and the Pashina faction. If things don’t go their way, they might resort to force.”
She prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but given the Marquis Damian and the late queen’s fates, the answer was clear.
A shiver ran down Erne’s spine.
Until now, the harsh reality had felt distant, drowned in chaos—but as time passed and she buried herself in royal duties, as she tried to hold Babylon in check, she realized this wasn’t a dream or a possession.
This was real.
Which means I could die, too.
Erne bit her lower lip, suppressing her fear.
Wizards sheathed his sword and nodded.
Thus, the secret meeting came to an end.
＊＊＊
“These are cookies with lots of chocolate chips.”
“What about pudding?”
“I brought cookies for now. Pudding is for tonight.”
At Belly’s words, Shuknen’s face fell in disappointment.
Tch. Belly sighed. Lately, Shuknen had been obsessed with pudding, to the point where he ignored any snack that wasn’t pudding.
“Should I go get some? Honestly, Her Majesty’s been so worried. You’ve been skipping meals and eating nothing but pudding.”
The palace desserts were works of art, no doubt—but it was a problem that Shuknen was hooked on pudding, even skipping proper meals, which Erne—being from Korea—valued so highly.
As expected, the mention of Erne made Shuknen flinch. After a brief moment, he reluctantly reached for the basket of cookies Belly had brought.
The sweet aroma softened his expression a little.
As he bit into a cookie, its sweetness and crunchy texture filled his mouth, bringing a faint blush to his cheeks.
“Good, right?”
“…Not bad.”
It wasn’t as satisfying as soft, jiggly pudding, but still—
Palace desserts were truly art.
Watching Shuknen try to hide his enjoyment, Belly chuckled warmly.
They were having a peaceful afternoon on a picnic mat in the queen’s garden—
—until an uninvited guest appeared.
“Belly.”
From under the shade of a tree, someone called her name. Squinting against the light, Belly stared for a moment—and then shot to her feet in shock.
“Michael!”
Shuknen froze mid-bite, glancing between Belly and the unfamiliar man.
Curiosity lit the boy’s face, followed by a sly grin.
It practically screamed: Oh, is that Belly’s boyfriend?—a very unchildlike thought.
“Young master, could you wait here for a bit?”
Shuknen was now convinced: that stranger was definitely Belly’s boyfriend.
“Go on.” he said, as if granting a favor.
Normally, Belly would have corrected such a misunderstanding—but right now, she didn’t have the luxury.
Panic turned her face pale.
She hurriedly instructed the knights accompanying her to keep Shuknen safe, repeating the warning several times, before rushing toward the man.
Grabbing his wrist, she pulled him farther away from Shuknen.
He must not find out about the boy. Her heart pounded violently.
With a tense face, Belly hissed,
“How did you even get in here? And what’s with that outfit?”
“Undercover job?”
Belly didn’t buy his smug grin for a second. Michael was the one who had hurt her.
“Get out. I don’t know why you’re here, but I told you never to show your face to me again.”
“Belly.”
Michael’s fake smile vanished, replaced by something dangerous in his eyes.
When Belly bit her lip nervously, his seductive fingers brushed against it.
“So you were hiding here all along. I went through hell to find you—I’m not leaving without you, Belly.”
His languid gaze tangled with Belly’s cold stare in the charged air.
