TCCIO 36

Chapter 36. The Princess’s Duty

The long table placed in the spacious dining hall was covered with a crimson tablecloth. Dozens of candles in the center of the table softly illuminated the surroundings. The king, queen, and Delia—members of the Iorenti royal family—sat in silence, continuing their meal in heavy stillness.

On the table were neatly arranged dishes: peppered chicken, freshly baked bread, and fresh fruit. But in front of Delia was only a clear soup. Having barely survived a brush with death, even soup felt too much for her. The savory aroma of the soup scraped at her empty stomach. The memories it stirred up rattled her mind. Her body and heart floated unsteadily, like a small boat in a violent storm. A small bead of sweat formed on Delia’s forehead as she barely managed to maintain her composure.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

The queen looked at Delia with deep concern in her eyes.

“No, Mother,” Delia replied, gently shaking her head. She didn’t want to burden her already worried parents.

“Your health comes first. Why don’t you take a break from the weapons research and get some rest?”

Delia forced a smile, trying to appear calm in response to the queen’s worried suggestion.

“I’m okay. I can handle it.”

She stirred the soup, avoiding her mother’s gaze. There were too many things she needed to deal with. As the steam curled from the bowl and threatened to bring back his memory again, Delia tried to think of something else.

Where on earth had Mei disappeared to?
Though the royal guards had tracked him, he had ultimately escaped. It was as if the years he’d spent serving the crown prince in the palace had been a lie—there was no trace of him. Even the Carlow family, who had adopted him, knew nothing about his life before. It was as if he had never existed.
All that remained in Iorenti was a fierce-eyed bird and a few cryptic words.

Why had he told her not to go to Boswell?
Boswell had always been a close ally, even sharing family ties with Queen Eleanor. Perhaps Mei wanted to sever that alliance and isolate Iorenti in the international community.

Why had he warned her to be wary of her brother?
Though her brother had been placed on the front lines for the sake of royal duty, he was too gentle for war. Why distrust someone so kind? Probably to plant suspicion and fracture Iorenti from within.

Delia could logically understand Mei’s motives.
And yet, an anxiety like heat haze clung to her heart.
Perhaps Mei’s true intention was to cause cracks and unease.

The thought made Delia stir her soup with mounting irritation.
To think she had been swayed by the words of a traitor—what a fool.
He even left that annoying bird behind.
She should have caught him and interrogated him to the end.

Delia thought of the bird she couldn’t throw away because it had his eyes. She brought a spoonful of soup to her lips.
Just as she was about to swallow, the king’s solemn voice rang out.

“Delia. You will go to Boswell.”

“Kek—!”
Caught off guard, the soup went down the wrong pipe, and Delia began to cough violently.

“Are you alright?”
The queen looked at her in alarm. A nearby maid rushed over to hand her a glass of water.

“Yes, cough, I’m fine, cough cough.”
The queen gently patted her back, concern deepening in her expression.

“Your body hasn’t fully recovered. Be careful when you eat.”

“Yes, Mother, cough.”

Seeing her daughter struggle to breathe, the queen’s face grew heavy with worry. Delia’s insides were still weak from surviving a dose of poison. She had only just begun eating soft foods again.

“Your Majesty, perhaps we should discuss this later.”

“Queen, we don’t have the luxury of time.”

“But she’s still recovering. Wouldn’t it be better to wait until she’s a little stronger?”

“Iorenti’s fate isn’t so optimistic that we can afford to wait.”

The weight of the king’s words silenced the queen.
All she could do was bow her head and sit quietly.

“Delia. While you were lying ill, the Empire has begun mobilizing an army of 100,000.”

The king set down his fork on the plate.
Though his hands were free, his heart only grew heavier.

“100,000 imperial soldiers, each armed with newly developed rifles of superior performance.”

“Father…”

“No one can predict what lies ahead for Iorenti.”

“That’s why we must stand together and protect it.”

Delia’s eyes flickered toward the cane held by the attendant. Her father’s cane.
Though its handle was elegantly gilded, the end was worn blunt from long use.

King Franz II of Iorenti had been injured fighting personally when Kirens invaded.
Ever since, he’d moved with a limp, always with his cane by his side.

To leave him now?
Delia shook her head firmly.

“Please allow me to stay and fight in Iorenti.”

“You staying here won’t help.”

Delia clenched her spoon and spoke with resolve.

“I held the Imperial Army back in the Tarenes Mountains and bought us time. Without me, the capital would have already been taken in a surprise attack.”

“You were captured and nearly killed. I can’t let you face that danger again.”

“I repelled the Imperial Army from the capital using my strategy.”

“That was due to the weather. We can’t entrust the fate of the nation to coincidence and luck.”

“I even exposed the Imperial spy. I can be of help.”

“Silence. That matter must not be spoken of again. It does the Crown Prince no good.”

Mei had served the Crown Prince for years. The revelation that he was a spy could cause irreparable damage. Upon hearing the report from the guard captain, the king had ordered strict silence.

“But I want to fight for Iorenti, Father.”

The king looked at Delia with a pained expression. Her blue eyes were full of frustration and indignation.

She resembled his father, Leopold III, more than anyone else.
Stubborn, proud, ambitious—and filled with deep affection for Iorenti.

If only she were the heir to the throne.
He’d thought that more than once.
But such wishes were luxuries only possible in times of peace.
With the Empire’s invasion shaking the nation’s foundation, they could no longer afford idealism.

Now was the time for a father—and a king—to make a decision.
The king’s voice echoed heavily through the hall.

“As a princess of Iorenti, fulfill your duty.”

“Standing and fighting together is the duty of royalty. My brother is on the battlefield—why send only me away?”

“Each of us has a different role to play. Right now, a princess needs to carry flowers, not a sword. Go to Boswell and strengthen the alliance. That is your duty.”

“Father!!”

Delia slammed her spoon onto the table and stood up.

“If that man had ever intended to act as a true ally, he would’ve done so long ago!”

The king looked at his daughter with a deep, sunken gaze.

“…Boswell has promised to send 30,000 troops in exchange for a royal marriage.”

“What…?”

Delia’s voice caught.
Boswell—who had ignored them all this time—now, suddenly?

Her eyes cooled instantly as she looked at her father.
He met her gaze and issued the final order.

“So do not resist any longer. You will go to Boswell.”

The queen, struggling to contain her emotions, closed her eyes.
A silence deep enough to hear a breath fell over the dining hall.
It felt like it might suffocate them.

That’s when they heard it—urgent footsteps, like the prelude to a requiem.

A pale-faced attendant rushed across the hall and approached the king.

“Your Majesty…”

The servant bent low and whispered something.
The king’s face darkened more with every word.

After a long moment of listening, he finally slammed his hand on the table.

“Foolish wretch!”

The king’s fury froze the room in an instant.
Everyone’s eyes wavered with anxiety.

When the attendant stepped back, the king finally spoke.

“We suffered a crushing defeat at the Battle of the Cabat Plains.”

Clatter.
The queen’s cup slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.

The shards scattered like pieces of Iorenti’s future.
Cabat Plains held the bulk of Iorenti’s military power.
The Empire’s victory there meant nothing now stood in their way.

“W-What about Crown Prince Alberto?”

The queen’s trembling voice rang through the room.

The king hesitated. After a long pause, he finally spoke in a mournful voice.

“He went missing during the battle. His fate is unknown.”

Tears streamed down the queen’s face at the news.
Her cheeks were wet with grief for her missing son.
The king gripped her trembling hand tightly and turned to Delia.

“General Enrico is regrouping and falling back to the next line of defense.
Will you still insist on being stubborn at a time like this?”

“Father…”

Delia was still furious, but the king’s voice came firm and cold:

“As a princess of Iorenti, your duty now is to go to Boswell and reinforce our alliance.
That is the only thing you can do for Iorenti.”

Delia clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.
A princess’s duty.
What Iorenti needed now was reinforcements, and marriage was the only leverage they had.

Her father’s decision, though painful, was just.
As a princess, it was her duty to make a political marriage—if it truly benefited the kingdom.

With a trembling voice, Delia finally replied:

“…Understood. I’ll go to Boswell.”

With that, she shoved her chair back.
The harsh sound of the legs scraping across the marble floor echoed like a split between father and daughter.

Delia turned her back on her father and walked away.
Her angry footsteps rang loudly in the silent hall, sinking deep into the hearts of the speechless royal couple.