ILTDAMH |CHAPTER 70

Chapter 70 

They Brought It Upon Themselves

Kymon stepped back, ready to leave the council chamber with Marican.

“Oh, I nearly forgot to mention something important,” Ruan said lightly. “All of your knights have surrendered. Fortunately, they seem to value their own lives. And those thousand men you so proudly called your own? They too have bent the knee to the Empire. So then, Sir Kymon… what choice will you make? I’m afraid my patience is rather limited.”

“You’re an extraordinary man,” Patricia muttered, watching him with cold eyes. “Still as heartless as ever.”

Horman turned to her. “You know Ruan?”

“Once. Long ago, when he came to the kingdom as an envoy.”

At her words, Horman gave a slow nod.

“Have you decided, Sir Kymon?” Ruan pressed.

Kymon’s grip tightened on the sword aimed at Marican, but Antwat’s desperate cry cut through the air.

“Father, please! Don’t do this!”

Seeing his daughter in tears, Kymon let out a hollow sigh and hurled his blade aside.

“How disappointing,” Ruan said. “I truly hoped you’d choose the second option.”

At his gesture, knights entered with another figure in tow—Marican himself.

What…? Why are there two emperors?

Kymon stared at the man he’d been holding captive only moments before.

“Ruan… you didn’t truly mean to have me killed, did you?” the false emperor grumbled, tearing off his mask.

Not the Emperor?

The entire chamber froze.

“That face…! Marquis Tablo Hynave!”

Both Kymon and Antwat gaped, while Tablo preened with a smug smile at Ruan’s side.

“It seems I’ve quite the talent for disguise. No one suspected me. Why, even Her Majesty the Empress was fooled. That must mean I resemble His Majesty rather well, wouldn’t you say, Sir Kymon?”

“Impossible… then from the beginning—?”

Ruan’s voice cut sharp. “The man you seized was never the Emperor. And yet, the words you’ve just heard… those were His Majesty’s.”

“What…?”

“Fools. I had hoped you would not force us to witness your downfall to the bitter end.”

At Marican’s calm declaration, Kymon collapsed onto the floor, stricken.

“Ruan… is it over?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ruan said, bowing deeply. “I, Ruan Canoluf, have secured every last rebel.”

“This… this cannot be,” Antwat wailed. “It cannot end so easily, so meaninglessly!”

Supported by Horman, Marican stepped into the chamber and fixed a cold gaze on her.

“Empress, had you remained quietly in your palace, you might have lived out your days in comfort.”

“Please, Your Majesty, spare my life! Exile me, and I shall leave the Empire forever, never to return.”

“I gave you your chance,” Marican replied, his tone hard as iron. “You cast it aside. I shall show no mercy now. Guards—take them away!”

At Ruan’s command, the knights seized Kymon, Antwat, and the unconscious Daimond, leading them out.

“Is it truly finished, then?” Horman asked, his face heavy with unease.

Ruan shook his head. “It has only begun, Your Highness. Through a proper trial, they must receive the punishment they deserve.”

“A fitting punishment… yes. So it must be.”

Though his words were firm, Marican’s expression twisted with bitterness. Antwat had been his wife for over twenty years, even if theirs was a marriage of state. Daimond, too, he had spared once—banishing him instead of executing him. Yet neither Antwat nor Daimond had ever understood his heart.

They had answered mercy with treachery.

“Father… will you truly kill my brother and the Empress?” Horman asked quietly.

Marican’s gaze swept over Ruan, Tablo, Patricia, and his son before he answered, his face solemn.

“Horman. Forgiveness need only be granted once. Never twice. They have brought this upon themselves.”

“But—”

Horman faltered. He knew Kymon, Antwat, and Daimond could not be allowed to live. Yet a part of him still longed to show them mercy, to banish rather than destroy.

“Your Highness,” Ruan said sternly, “there can be no mercy in matters of rebellion. If you cannot bear that burden, then you cannot sit upon the throne.”

“Horman,” Marican added, his voice colder still, “Ruan is right. To spare traitors is to betray the people. Cast away your pity.”

Horman’s face twisted with conflict, until Patricia reached out and clasped his hand gently.

“When my own brother rebelled, I too thought as you do,” she said softly. “I could not bring myself to kill him. But because of my weakness, countless innocents died. Had I executed him at the very start, so many lives might have been spared. Do not make the same mistake.”

“The Crown Princess speaks truth,” Tablo agreed. “The mercy we showed before was all they deserved.”

“…I understand.” Horman let out a breath, then turned to Ruan. “Today, not a single innocent was harmed. That is your doing, Ruan. I leave the rest in your hands.”

“I thank you for the praise, but my work is done,” Ruan replied. Handing his sword back to Tablo, he bowed to the Emperor, the Crown Prince, and Patricia. “I shall take my leave.”

“What? You yourself said this is only the beginning. Where are you going now?” Horman caught his arm.

“My duty was only to quell the rebellion. The rest must be finished by you, Your Highness. Besides… I am still on leave. I came only because the Empire’s safety was at stake. Now, I shall return to my holiday.”

“Holiday? You’ve already taken three months! Surely you don’t mean to use the full six?”

“Six months was our agreement. I intend to keep it.”

“You’ll return, then? Don’t tell me your wife has yet to forgive you.”

Without answering, Ruan turned and strode out.

Wife? Patricia blinked. So that’s the wife His Highness mentioned before? I’d heard she left his house. And this cold man… is taking leave because of her?

Marican, too, watched Ruan’s departing figure with a curious gleam.

“A woman who could change such a man… I would very much like to meet her. When he returns, we must invite her to the palace.”

“Yes, Father,” Horman said. “But you should rest now—you’ve endured much tonight.”

Marican glanced at the light of dawn spilling through the windows. “A long, weary night indeed. And Crown Princess—seeing you in person, I realize how fortunate we are. You are more dependable than Horman himself.”

Flushing like a girl, Patricia bowed. “You honor me, Father.”

“Horman,” Marican added with a chuckle, “you should take some lessons in swordsmanship from your wife.”

“F-Father! My skills have improved greatly already!”

But even as he protested, the image of Patricia’s fearsome prowess made a shiver run down his spine.

Patricia, however, stepped forward with a bright smile. “Then, Your Majesty, do I have your leave to instruct the Crown Prince personally?”

Horman nearly choked. She’s taking this seriously?!

“Can you manage it?” Marican asked. “Truth be told, my son’s scholarly talents far outshine his physical ones.”

“Do not worry, Father. In Allemond, I trained ladies far weaker than His Highness.”

“Excellent! Then I entrust him to you. Now, I shall return to the palace.”

With that, Marican departed with his attendants, leaving Patricia beaming at her husband.

“Then, Your Highness, we begin tomorrow. Normally I teach with live steel, but in your case, we’ll start with wooden swords. Ten o’clock sharp at the training grounds.”

Horman laughed nervously. “Surely you jest? Sir Tablo has been teaching me well enough—”

“You wouldn’t dare disobey His Majesty’s command, would you, Sir Tablo?” Patricia asked sweetly.

Tablo froze, caught between them. 

Horman sent him a desperate look, but Tablo only sighed.

“Of course not, Your Highness. Who am I to oppose His Majesty’s will? In truth, I believe Her Highness is the better instructor. If you’ll excuse me, I must see to restoring order before sunrise.”

“Ta-Tablo—!”

Watching Patricia’s radiant smile, brighter than he had ever seen, Horman felt dread coil in his stomach. His future, he realized grimly, would not be easy.

***

From the garden, Charles whispered, “I miss my lady.”

Beside him, Clea’s eyes drifted toward the tree Marician used to climb so often.

“I miss her too. I thought she might return with His Grace this time… but it seems she has yet to forgive him.”

Charles sighed. “Our lord doesn’t understand women at all. If he begged her forgiveness sincerely, she’d yield in an instant. That’s the kind of woman she is.”

“But the sin is too heavy,” Clea murmured. “Whether by choice or mistake, she was the last to know he still lived. I regret it too—when I heard it from Ed, I should have gone to her at once, instead of hanging mourning ribbons. If I had, she might never have left…”

Guilt weighed on her heart.

“You know what’s worse, Head Maid?” Charles whispered. “When we didn’t know where she was, I only worried. But now that I’ve seen her again… I long for her even more.”

“You too?” Clea gave a faint smile. “I returned to the capital only because His Grace swore he’d bring her back within six months. I never realized half a year could feel so long.”

Glancing around to be sure no one overheard, Charles leaned closer. “So why don’t we go to Phenomenon Village ourselves? To see her?”

Clea blinked. “But His Grace is away quelling the rebellion. We can’t abandon the ducal estate.”

“Think about it, Head Maid. The butler must stay, and the cook as well. But you and I? Our duty is to attend to the lady. And the lady is in Phenomenon Village. So really—we’d just be doing our jobs.”

Clea’s lips twitched despite herself. 

“Charles… that’s actually rather clever.”

But then she shook her head. “Still, it’s a three-day journey by carriage. Six days just for the trip. We’d barely have time to greet her before turning back.”

Charles grinned and pulled something from his apron, setting it proudly on the table. “Which is why… I already secured a travel artifact.”

“What?!” Clea gasped, staring down at the enchanted device.