Chapter 119
“The world you wish for—does it remain unchanged?”
The Emperor’s words rang majestically, settling heavily over the entire arena. At the weight of his question, Hestia firmly nodded.
“Yes, it does.”
“Then, who holds the right to victory?”
The Emperor’s stern expression softened slightly as he looked down at Hestia. A faint warmth returned to his face, which had unconsciously grown pale.
Cassius understood. Outwardly, he appeared composed and indifferent, but the tension and unease emanating from Terhan beside him—and his impatience to rush toward the woman standing there—were undeniable.
And so, he understood.
He understood what this mysterious woman meant to Terhan.
“My victory…”
Hestia’s gaze turned to Terhan, her joyous smile spilling across her lips without restraint. In that fleeting moment of eye contact, she clenched her fists tightly.
“Belongs to Prince Terhan Presto, the Second Prince.”
It was the answer everyone expected. Any lingering doubts that she might be a witch—confirmed or unconfirmed—vanished into the distance.
Rain Tia, Reina Werner—whether her true identity lay with one or the other no longer mattered. The audience was intoxicated by the moment itself, cheering loudly.
Even the Emperor asked nothing further. True to his usual disposition, it seemed either that he did not care or that he was silently allowing it.
Why?
Hestia tried to discern the Emperor’s thoughts but, as always, could read nothing.
The Emperor spoke again.
“What kind of world does the Second Prince wish for?”
This time, his gaze shifted to Terhan.
“My world…”
Terhan’s eyes, meeting the Emperor’s, naturally fell on Hestia.
“Is only her.”
A gentle smile curved Terhan’s lips as he uttered those vague yet clear words. Only the Emperor seemed to understand the meaning, his golden eyes briefly glowing with comprehension.
“…In the future, within the Montania Empire.”
The Emperor turned to sweep over the crowd, silencing all commotion, before fixing his gaze back on Hestia.
“You shall not be bound by charges you do not deserve. Nothing shall hold onto your past or your present.”
He proclaimed the world Hestia had longed for.
“Even if you are a witch.”
The Emperor’s final words fell like a massive guillotine.
Thud—!
The invisible chains that had bound Hestia so tightly, constricting her breath and movement, shattered completely.
It was not said from mere knowledge. His gaze carried a long-held sorrow and regret that spoke of far deeper understanding.
Hestia’s heart raced violently. She could barely breathe; her eyes could not blink. This was the world she had longed for but had never had the courage to claim.
And yet… here it was.
A life she could actually attain.
A heat surged up her throat. Unstoppable, it became a torrent that soaked her eyes, streaming down uncontrollably. Hestia could barely endure it.
“Huh… huh…”
Through clenched teeth, sobs broke free.
Eventually, Hestia buried her face in both hands. Around her, nothing existed—no one, no sound, no obstacle mattered.
Only now.
In this moment, Hestia’s world consumed all her senses and emotions.
The overwhelming sadness and joy left her mind spinning. Her entire body felt as if it were melting, her reason evaporating entirely.
She swayed.
Just as her legs, still standing on the ground, threatened to collapse…
“Hestia.”
Terhan’s world enveloped her.
A dark veil obscured everyone else. Inside it, there were only the two of them.
“…You may cry as much as you like. Now, I will embrace all of you.”
Hestia crumbled into Terhan’s strong hands. Behind the protective veil he had cast, she let everything pour out.
Her tears drenched Terhan, yet he simply held her, waiting patiently.
As if it did not matter how long it took.
As if he would always remain by her side.
Amid the cheers of the crowd, Hestia’s profound sorrow slowly melted away.
Leaning into Terhan’s solid embrace, endlessly…
In sharp contrast to the serene atmosphere of the drawing room, harsh sounds erupted.
“You worthless fool!!”
Clang!
Shards of shattered glass littered the floor.
“How can you be so thoughtless!”
The Empress’s red eyes glared furiously, her displeasure unchecked.
Felix, standing silently under her scolding, clenched his fists, his face twisting into frustration.
“I didn’t expect Terhan to take action like that…”
He murmured softly, lowering his head to avoid the Empress’s gaze.
“Look at the consequences of your actions. This only plays into his hands! I warned you!”
“I did not expect His Majesty the Emperor to intervene like that!”
Felix, teeth clenched, could no longer hold back and let out what barely amounted to an excuse.
“Ah… yes. The Emperor. There is the Emperor…”
The Empress’s lips twisted, and her eyes sparkled dangerously.
“It seems something must be done.”
She muttered under her breath, yet for Felix, her words sounded like thunder.
“W-what??”
Felix’s eyes widened in shock. What the Empress had just spoken was rebellion—treason.
Though it was not yet outright tyranny, this was no minor matter like dealing with fools such as Terhan.
Blinking in disbelief, Felix could not close his mouth.
“If you had won the second contest, none of this would be necessary…”
The Empress approached with a gracious smile, placing her hand gently over his cheek.
“What can we do? It is their fate.”
Felix shivered at her whispered words.
“B-but…”
No matter what, he would never rise to the throne through rebellion. He did not wish to sit on the Emperor’s seat in that way.
Yet before the Empress, he could not raise his voice.
“Tch. So weak-minded. The Emperor is already on his side.”
The Empress clicked her tongue in disdain at Felix’s hesitant response.
“W-what? How can that be!”
Felix’s eyes widened. Even when Terhan’s life was at risk, the Emperor had not intervened. Yet now he stood by Terhan’s side. Felix could scarcely believe it.
“Shh. Do not look at me like that; our ace remains.”
The Empress smiled subtly, narrowing her eyes.
To bring the Artis Guild to their side, to surround Terhan with rumors, to pressure the Werner family, to win the second contest, to manipulate the witch—though all attempts had failed, the Empress remained confident.
“You will surely ascend to the Emperor’s throne.”
Of course, had Felix won the second contest, or had the Emperor not intervened, matters might have been simpler.
Yet the final outcome would remain the same. Ultimately, all paths led to the same conclusion.
Finding comfort in that, the Empress withdrew her hand from Felix’s cheek and strode toward the large window, her footsteps crushing the shards of glass below.
“The plan was only accelerated by a few months; there is no need for concern.”
Once Felix ascended to Crown Prince, and the Emperor was eliminated… everything would be theirs.
Then, finally, she would claim ‘that.’
Even if the Emperor’s death was slightly earlier than planned, it mattered little.
However, in the current situation, if the Emperor weakened, the Crown Prince contest would be delayed. The selection must proceed swiftly, for no one knew how long the Emperor might live.
“We shall convene the nobility.”
If the Emperor fell ill, the Crown Prince would be chosen by a vote among the nobles—a majority already aligned with her. No obstacle remained.
But…
“Our Emperor must remain as passive as a mouse.”
If the Emperor issued commands amidst the turmoil, complications would arise. And she suspected he would.
She had already anticipated the Emperor’s actions. Conflict was inevitable. Troops had been prepared long ago.
It was only a matter of time.
“Felix, the Crown Prince, will unquestionably be your seat.”
The Empress’s fierce eyes glimmered with a dangerous fire.
“…Everything will lie beneath Your Majesty’s feet.”
Felix knelt, head bowed, eyes blank as he placed one knee before her.
“So, my son… until then, do not act foolishly.”
The Empress gazed down at him with satisfaction, her red eyes gleaming, a smug smile on her lips.
As spring flowers colored the land, the story of Terhan and Hestia spread widely throughout the empire.
Any suspicion that Hestia might be a witch had long since vanished.
“I heard she trained secretly, enduring day and night, just to bring victory to the Second Prince!”
“Incredible! Such a delicate body, yet she persevered relentlessly.”
“I truly felt the spirit of chivalry this time!”
Stories spread endlessly, reaching men and women of all ages.
“And what about the Second Prince himself? Standing against the First Prince to protect his people—so romantic!”
“Exactly! Imagine how he would rule with such warmth if he ascended the throne.”
Of course, rumors, as always, mixed truth with exaggeration.
“Did you see the Second Prince’s semi-final? Ah, I wished I could be one of his sweat drops.”
“I heard from a friend at the palace that the Second Prince could speak three languages by the age of five!”
“Remarkable! He lacks nothing. Truly, the legend is accurate.”
“Then perhaps the Crown Prince’s seat will rightfully go to the Second Prince? I hope so!”
Yet even amidst admiration and gossip, some still frowned upon the turn of events.
