Chapter 69
One Forgiveness Is Enough. Twice Will Never Happen.
“In Father’s eyes, it has always been Horman, never me. No matter what I did, I was never enough for you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice, years ago, when you secretly began grooming Haman to be crown prince? You never intended to pass the throne to me from the very beginning. So what choice do I have? I must claim my seat for myself.”
Claim your seat… yourself?
“Daimond,” Emperor Viseluc thundered, “do you lay all blame at my feet without once considering your own sins? And you, Empress—was this your design all along?”
At his words, Antwatt, who had been standing just outside the chamber, entered, her eyes full of reproach for Viseluc.
“Your Majesty, it was but a single mistake. He is the crown prince—your son! I begged you for mercy, yet you ignored me and sent that pitiful boy away to the farthest reaches. Should you really begrudge Daimond for feeling wronged?”
“Empress! Do you truly not understand what he has done? He slaughtered innocent women to sate his own lust. He even, consumed by jealousy, sought to frame his own brother. Do you call that no fault at all?”
“They were only a few orphans,” Antwatt shouted back. “Not nobles—wretches who would have sold their bodies to someone else regardless. Are we to make such fuss over a handful of worthless lives?”
“A handful of orphans?” Viseluc’s voice cut like iron. “Do you claim their lives are no lives at all? They were subjects of this Empire. Human lives cannot be measured in rank or coin. It seems the one to blame is not merely Daimond, but the Empress who molded him into this creature.”
Daimond moved to stand beside his mother, smirking.
“See, Mother? Was I not right? Father never once intended to forgive me. To him, I was never a son. Only Horman ever mattered. Look at poor Sinclair—cast out of the capital, stripped of all but the name of prince, rotting in a cell. Mother, abandon all illusions about Father.”
While their bitter exchange filled the chamber, Kymon glanced toward the doors and spoke.
“Your Majesty, this is not the time to argue over guilt. Before the Duke returns to the palace, we must secure the imperial seal. Without it, all will be for nothing.”
He turned to the Emperor.
“Sire, tell us where the seal lies. Declare Daimond your heir, and no harm will come to you.”
Antwatt, agitated, pressed as well. Viseluc laughed bitterly.
“Empress, you do not know me at all. Once they have the seal, they will kill me at once. Is that not so, Kymon?”
“That depends on how His Majesty chooses to cooperate.”
“Cooperation, you say? You press a blade to your Emperor’s throat and dare to speak of trust?”
“Of course. That is Father for you.” Daimond sneered. “But worry not, Father. I would never harm you.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“You must. You will live long, healthy years. And you will watch with your own eyes how I rule this Empire.”
“You mean you wish me to sit idle while you drag the Empire into ruin? Better death than that.”
Daimond broke into wild laughter.
“Hahahaha! Father, do you truly believe I will bring ruin? Then all the more reason for you to live. You shall watch with both eyes how I grind this Empire into dust!”
At last, my brother has gone mad.
Horman stared at Diamond’s frenzied eyes, filled with despair.
“Crown Prince,” Patricia’s calm voice cut through the madness, “does His Majesty know how to wield a sword?”
Horman blinked. “Are you asking about Father?”
“Yes. If he can fight, we might yet gain an advantage. I can handle three men myself.”
Three? Horman glanced nervously at the armed knights behind them.
“What are you saying? ‘Handle’ them?”
“Would you rather stand idle, listening to this lunatic rant? If His Majesty falls, so do we. That is the end of this farce.”
“Mind your words, Crown Princess.”
Patricia met his gaze firmly. “I’ve seen this before. A man consumed by power cannot repent. Death is the only cure. Surely you came here prepared for such an end?”
Her words hit Horman like steel.
She’s right. Her second brother died leading a rebellion in Alomand Kingdom.
He glanced at the clock on the chamber wall.
Five minutes remained before Ruan’s promised time.
If only my brother didn’t go completely berserk before then…
But Daimond’s frenzy only grew.
“Father, stalling will not summon the Duke from the distant gorge. Enough stubbornness. Give me the seal!”
“Daimond, I will never pass this Empire to you. If those are the words you wish to hear, then strike me down!”
Snarling, Daimond snatched Kymon’s sword and leveled it at the Emperor.
“You think I won’t? If this fails, I die regardless. I have no retreat.”
“Better I bite my tongue and die than see the Empire handed to a son who raises steel against his father.”
“Calm yourself, Father! Brother, please—calm yourself!”
Horman’s desperate cry only made Diamond’s madness worse. The sword swung toward him.
“Ah, yes. How could I forget? My beloved younger brother is here. Father, what if I spare you, but cut off one of Horman’s arms instead?”
“What?”
“Interesting, isn’t it? You didn’t flinch when I swore to kill you, but the thought of maiming Horman finally rouses you. Brother, forgive me. Sacrifice yourself for my sake. Father, I’ll ask again: declare me heir tomorrow. Refuse, and I’ll take Horman apart, limb by limb.”
“You dare threaten me?”
“Not a threat—an earnest plea.”
Viseluc turned to the Empress.
“Empress, will you truly follow your foolish son and your power-mad father down this path? Convince them to surrender now, and I will spare their lives. I will even allow you to remain Empress.”
Antwatt shook her head.
“It is far too late, Your Majesty. Follow Daimond’s words instead, and you may yet enjoy your twilight years in peace.”
Her rejection drew another thunderous refusal from Viseluc.
“This Empire is not a prize for you to grasp at, Daimond! Whatever you do, you will never inherit my throne.”
For a moment Diamond faltered.
Then he laughed, advancing on Horman.
“Horman, do you hear? This is the father you revere so dearly! Even faced with your limbs on the line, he refuses to yield. Tell me—how does it feel to be cast aside by the man you idolized?”
But Horman only smiled faintly at the clock.
“Brother, Father’s choice was the right one. Had he yielded the Empire to save me, I would have taken my own life. Forgive me, but you will never be Emperor.”
“Never be Emperor?” Daimond raged. “You mock me because you are crown prince? Then die first!”
His blade swept toward Horman—only to be parried. Patricia had wrenched a sword from one of the knights and stepped forward.
What? This woman—!
Before Daimond could react, she kicked him hard in the gut.
Thud!
“Gah!”
He crashed into the corner, dropping his sword. Patricia calmly handed the weapon to a stunned Haman.
“Is this really the time to stand gaping? Will you not save His Majesty?”
Kymon, startled, tightened his blade against Viseluc’s throat.
“Inside, now!” he roared to the knights outside.
But no one entered. Silence reigned.
What is this?
There should have been over a hundred elite knights stationed around the palace. Why did none answer?
Tension surged through him—then the chamber doors opened.
Dragging Diamond by the leg, Ruan strode in.
Impossible. How is he here? He should still be at Queibec Gorge…
Kymon blinked, as if doubting his eyes.
“Duke Canoluf… why are you here? You should be miles away!”
“My apologies, Sir Kymon,” Ruan said coolly. “But I never left the palace.”
Never left? Then… did he know I would bring knights here?
Only now did Kymon realize how strangely easy it had been to slip into the palace. Too few guards, too little resistance. His ambition had made him reckless. His elite knights must already have been captured.
Decades of longing, years of plotting—undone by this boy. Rage burned in his chest.
Still, escape remained. If he lived, another chance would come. Pressing the sword tighter to Viseluc’s throat, Kymon snarled.
“Stay back! Or I’ll kill the Emperor!”
But Ruan merely tossed Diamond’s limp body into the center of the chamber.
“Sir Kymon, I offer you two choices. First: lower your sword and surrender. You will still face execution, but until then you may rot in prison with a little comfort.”
What? He dares speak so calmly while I hold the Emperor’s life in my hands?
“The second choice,” Ruan continued, his voice cold, “is the one I personally prefer. Drive that sword through His Majesty’s throat, and die a glorious death. You’ll lose your life quickly—but at least I’ll have the satisfaction of killing you myself.”
Kymon’s eyes widened. “You… you would let the Emperor die?”
