TCCIO 34

Chapter 34: In That Case, I’d Rather…

“The princess’s thoughts on the royal marriage with Boswell?”

At the king’s question, Delia answered firmly.

“I clearly refused back then.”

After Delia’s rejection, the council elders tried to persuade her.

“This is a crisis for Eorenti. Please remember your duty as royalty.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to strengthen the alliance through marriage?”

“When you think about the imperial army gathering at the border, Eorenti desperately needs reinforcements.”

“The fate of Eorenti rests on Your Highness’s decision.”

Every gaze in the chamber turned toward Delia. She felt suffocated. She had to leave Eorenti for the sake of Eorenti? What had she done just to stay in her homeland? What had she risked her life for to escape him?

To hide her trembling hands, Delia clutched her skirt and stood up abruptly. She slowly looked around the chamber. Their eyes were filled with expectations for her role as princess.

“The royal marriage…”

But as a princess of Eorenti, she couldn’t simply ignore their opinions. Eorenti was in crisis, and help from allied nations was essential. In such circumstances, a royal marriage was an effective and stable diplomatic tool.

Delia took a deep breath to open her constricted throat. Even after clearing it, her voice still trembled.

“Please give me time to think. I need time to reflect.”

She quickly exited the chamber, practically fleeing. Even as she walked toward the door, she could feel their piercing gazes on her back.

Despite the urgency of the standoff at the border, the royal garden of Eorenti still brimmed with fragrant blossoms. Butterflies fluttered lazily under the warm sun, feasting on nectar.

But Delia, who had fled the meeting, couldn’t take in any of it. Her eyes were unfocused as she rushed through the meaningless scenery, replaying the conversation.

“I always knew I’d eventually marry someone from an allied country… but Boswell?”

As she muttered with a sigh, the maid Anes cautiously offered her opinion.

“The Duke of Boswell is quite the gentleman. Polite, well-mannered…”

Delia frowned.

“People aren’t just what they show on the surface.”

“But sometimes you can’t hide what’s inside. It shows.”

“Does he even have anything genuine inside to show?”

“I could see it at a glance—how he likes you, Your Highness.”

“That’s absurd.”

Listening to Anes, Delia recalled the Duke of Boswell’s state visit last year. His family, distantly related to Queen Elenor, had been close to the royal family since the previous king’s reign.

Talks of marriage had come up back then, so Delia had no choice but to interact with him—giving him tours, walking in the gardens, drinking tea, making small talk.

As the princess hosting a foreign guest, she had many chances to observe him. By all appearances, the Duke of Boswell was the perfect gentleman. Well-groomed hair, soft eyes, elegant manners, the dignified uniform of Boswell, and a respectful demeanor toward ladies. He wasn’t an enemy; Boswell was a friendly nation with good ties to Eorenti.

As a potential husband, he wasn’t a bad match. The royal couple and the council elders had subtly encouraged her to accept the proposal. With neighboring nations Roenye and Kirens under invasion, it was understandable they wanted to solidify alliances.

Delia might have accepted him—if only she hadn’t seen that.

In a secluded corner of the garden, she had stumbled upon him striking one of his own maids with frightening force. The scorn and contempt in his eyes as he looked at the collapsed girl were burned into her memory.

And then—what stuck with her even more than the violence—was how quickly he transformed. When she intervened to protect the maid, he instantly became calm, elegant, refined again, like the perfect gentleman.

If not for the maid’s sobbing, Delia might have doubted what she’d seen.

From that moment on, she kept silent about Boswell. But now—again, Boswell?

If Schtileitz was a wolf, then Boswell was a hyena.

In that case, the commander would be a better choice.

Her footsteps halted.

What nonsense am I thinking?

Delia shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to shake off the thought. She shook her head furiously to drive him out of her mind.

But the more she resisted, the more vivid his memory became.

Those silver-gray eyes that had pierced through her, the warmth of his wide embrace, the heat from the scar he had left on her arm—it all burned in her memory.

Just remembering him was dangerous.

That insane commander.

The man who invaded Eorenti and used her parents’ lives as leverage.

To marry him? That was something only that lunatic would say.

Delia shook her head again, fiercely, and walked toward the flames burning brightly ahead.

In a corner of the royal garden, a bonfire blazed at her command.

“Anes. Bring it.”

Approaching the fire, Delia’s voice dropped coldly.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Anes opened the black wooden box she had been carrying. Inside lay the shirt Aaron had given her when she escaped—neatly folded.

Delia pulled it out roughly, and it unfurled in the wind—brilliant white, dazzling in the light.

After a moment’s hesitation, she threw it into the flames.

The red light from the burning shirt reflected in her blue eyes. Her lips, glowing red in the firelight, were tightly sealed.

Aaron’s shirt was completely consumed without a trace.

If only memories could burn like that.

Delia turned away from the fire and walked on. Amidst the acrid smoke, her firm voice rang out:

“Contact Commander Jer.”

More urgent than Boswell was the task before her—erasing his presence from herself, and from Eorenti Palace.

She had to remove all traces of him, as if nothing had ever happened.

For Eorenti’s sake, she walked forward with no hesitation.

Sunlight streamed between the marble columns lining the corridor. One wall displayed a fresco of Eorenti’s founding myth—its gentle colors glowing in the light, inspiring awe.

But to those who passed it every day, it was merely part of the scenery.

Suddenly, quick footsteps echoed in the hallway. The red robes of a royal official flapped with urgency.

May Carlo strode forward, muttering curses. He had received a special command from the highest authority:

“Protect the princess of Eorenti.”

The ink on the parchment bearing this order hadn’t even dried.

And yet now, he had to send her to Boswell?

This was an emergency.

May ran through the corridor, mentally preparing:

Send word quickly. Set up contingencies. And if all else fails… find a way to smuggle her out…

But his steps were abruptly halted.

“Greetings, Lord May Carlo.”

A maid in a neat uniform greeted him politely.

“What is it?”

“This is for you, sir.”

She handed him a folded note, bowed, and disappeared.

A note? From who?

As soon as the maid turned the corner, May opened the note.

[Wall of Misfortune – 2:00]

A short message. Just a time and place.

But in the Empire’s code, it was anything but simple.

A chill ran down May Carlo’s spine.

The Wall of Misfortune—an old superstition from the continent’s south.

Most southern buildings had a small back door—to let misfortune escape so it wouldn’t linger inside the house.

Even the royal palace of Eorenti had one.

At the end of the royal garden, a massive door known as the Wall of Misfortune stood—so large it looked more like a wall than a door.

May hid behind a tree and scanned the area. The door stood slightly ajar, as if someone were hoping for an escape.

Who could it be?

Who else inside the palace could use Imperial codes?

Unable to bear the suspense, May stepped forward—only to feel a cold muzzle press into his back.

“Hello, May Carlo.”

A clear, calm voice. Scented richer than lemons. And a presence that absolutely should not be here.

He turned slowly.

It was Princess Delia, her hood pulled low, eyes gleaming with sharp vigilance even in the shadows.

“Your Highness,” he bowed, regaining his composure.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I.”

Delia removed her hood and glared.

“I sent that note on a hunch. Never thought you’d actually show up.”

“If someone knows the Empire’s code inside the palace, I had to confirm. Whether to cooperate—or to eliminate.”

May met Delia’s sharp blue gaze and knew instantly.

His days as a spy in Eorenti were over.

The princess had suspected him, used Imperial code to lure him here.

And by appearing, he had confirmed her suspicion.

He had walked right into the trap.

May took a step back.

“But I didn’t expect Your Highness to appear yourself—someone neither cooperative nor disposable.”

“Lucky for you. I’m not going to kill you.”

“When did you even learn the Empire’s codes?”

“I didn’t exactly study them…”

Delia shrugged.

“You probably know already—I had the chance to observe the Empire’s Commander up close.”

She handed him a slip of paper.

“And by chance… I saw these characters.”