[Chapter 98]
“Your Highness, if you don’t eat again today…”
“I’ll eat.”
Another day had begun. At the words of the maid, who seemed to have given up, I slowly brushed my face and lifted myself from the bed.
“Since my body feels stiff, I’ll eat in the dining room. Is that okay?”
During my time here, I had realized one important thing: no matter how exhausted or frustrated I felt, I had to eat. It was only after I truly understood that I—Kim Eun-ji—was fully inhabiting Lemonie, that I realized this in earnest.
“Yes, of course. I’ll guide you immediately.”
“What’s for breakfast today?”
“Since Your Highness always prefers a simple breakfast, I prepared sandwiches, but is there anything else you would like?”
Walking down the corridor with my ever-present shotgun in hand, the Ernmenst knights who routinely patrolled the hall approached from afar. Now, they no longer made crude jokes or smirked at me. I didn’t know whether it was because of the gun or because of Ian.
“A sandwich is enough. I’ll have orange juice to drink.”
“Yes, understood.”
At this point, I felt the need to live somewhat like a normal person. With what had happened with Deon in the meeting room and the awkwardness with Ian, I realized that all the knights of the Southern Empire had begun carrying guns just because of me. I had volunteered to come here as the Southern Empire’s representative, and I couldn’t just sulk in the bedroom like some helpless noble.
“Your Highness has arrived.”
Yet, the moment I entered the dining room, I felt a strong urge to return to the bedroom.
Deon, with his neat black hair swept back, was seated in a simple but high-quality black tunic. Despite my annoyance, he was undeniably an impressive man. He looked nothing like the angry man from yesterday, his attire and expression calm and composed as he ate—unlike me, with the dark shadows under my tired eyes.
“I’ll leave if it’s uncomfortable for you.”
“Sit. Don’t think about starving yourself.”
Without even glancing at me, Deon spoke. Should I leave or stay? After a moment of staring at him, I decided to eat in the dining room as planned. I no longer wanted to be swayed by him.
“Alright, then.”
We deliberately sat at the farthest ends of the twelve-seat table, and somehow ended up facing each other across the table. Deon ate without showing the slightest change in expression. Physically distant, yet his presence was so palpable that I found it hard to eat.
But I wouldn’t ask him about it.
“It’s because I’m angry that you’re not just a shell!”
Honestly, who was at fault? I claimed not to care, yet the deep, low voice from when I had met the previous Lemonie, openly expressing dislike for me, still echoed in my head.
Muttering over the simple sandwich served for breakfast, I pressed my face to the table to avoid looking across at him. I couldn’t tell for sure, but Deon hadn’t spoken to me and seemed entirely focused on his meal. Soon, the only sounds in the dining room were the occasional clink of forks and glasses as the two of us ate.
If he had no intention of talking, why did he insist I sit across from him yesterday? I bit down on my sandwich, forcing it down to my throat.
I realized I had unconsciously expected something when he told me to sit. I decided I’d just eat the sandwich quickly and leave. Eating slowly, I shoved the food into my mouth and choked on the orange juice, when suddenly I thought how unfair this whole situation was—and looked up across the table.
My eyes met his, and I instinctively covered my mouth as I felt the food almost come back up.
“You were eating so calmly, why do you have that face now?”
“Calmly? You mean you’ve been watching me since I started eating?”
“I wasn’t making that expression.”
“You are.”
“Then it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t even realize I was making that expression.”
“So that means your expression changed when you looked at me.”
“Interpret as you like.”
“You won’t say I’m wrong?”
“No.”
I barely swallowed the sandwich and glared at him.
“I have the right not to speak, just as you haven’t said a word to me since our first meeting at the fortress.”
Deon’s lips parted slightly, as if he realized something, and he let out a sigh.
“So that’s why you were so sharp in the meeting room.”
He sounded finally convinced. I had no proper response, so I pressed my lips together and fidgeted with the fork. Deon, however, continued eating with a look of disinterest, seemingly having already read my exposed expression.
“Did my asking you to wait annoy you that much?”
His deep voice resonated quietly in the dining room. Just as I, cheeks burning like a scolded child, gripped my fork to speak, the dining room door suddenly swung open.
“It’s not that I’m annoyed…”
“Deon, I wanted to continue our conversation from yesterday. Oh, Lemonie, you’re here too? Were you eating?”
The past Lemonie appeared, her hair neatly braided, giving me a faint smile. She turned to Deon, tapping the wall slightly as if to exchange a secret message.
“I’ve finished eating. I’ll go now.”
Deon stood up as if he had been waiting for that moment.
“…Your Highness, will you eat more?”
“Huh?”
I looked up at the steward’s question, staring at my empty plate. When I glanced around, Deon’s seat was empty. Had he really gone? Even with the real Lemonie there, we had been talking—and he just left like that?
“Hah!”
“…Your Highness?”
I let out a bitter laugh, and the steward looked at me in surprise.
“No, I’ve eaten everything.”
It was absurd that my heart could feel torn even in this situation.
“Of course, if my father hears that I’ve betrayed him, he’ll change his plans. I’ll stay here for now and then escape to a free country. After that, do as you please—roast or boil them, I don’t care.”
Ah, of course, he’d need to consult the princess before leaving.
He muttered this quietly while leaning back in the chair, hands in his pockets.
Ian seemed completely uninterested in the war—his family, or even the honor of the Ernmenst household. I ignored him, pretending not to hear the remark.
“Then what about the vampires still in the corridor?”
“Ask my father.”
With a casual shrug, Ian dragged his chair and left the meeting room.
His departure caused a stir. Deon, along with the representatives of other races, reconvened, and Ian’s exact words from yesterday were relayed without omission.
“Did he really leave?”
“Vampires are impossible to understand,” the monsters in the neutral zone muttered, incredulous. Still, I thought perhaps this was typical of Ian. He had always acted self-centeredly, even back at Dreis Prison. The only strange thing was that he had followed the Ernmenst’s orders and remained at the Kan Federation headquarters.
The meeting then proceeded quickly. The Southern Empire would deploy as many saints and mages as possible to defend against monster attacks. To the northwest, they decided to use the Western Empire’s offensive aimed at the beastmen habitats to lure them, then surround the Western Empire troops together with the remaining beastmen in the habitat.
Once the meeting concluded with all representatives, I immediately sent a message to the Southern Empire’s royal court. The reply came quickly.
Fortunately, the Southern Empire had anticipated all possibilities. They promised to reinforce the empire’s walls and were developing magic rituals capable of curing monstrous transformations on a wide scale. The Ernmenst’s monstrous transformation operations had shaken both the Southern Empire and the neutral zone, but it seemed that monstrous transformation itself wasn’t invincible.
The only problem was time.
Time passed quickly, and the day of deployment arrived.
Before the steward could enter, I woke to the commotion outside and opened the door. Breathing in unconsciously, I realized the air was cold and stared out the window. Morning had not yet come.
Then, seeing dark figures beyond the window, I froze.
“Do you really have to go?”
“Lemonie.”
“You could stay here under the pretext of guarding the fortress. You said I’m the most important—then you should choose me.”
Past Lemonie sobbed in Deon’s arms, tears streaking her face.
