Chapter 26: How a Mercenary Deals with Uninvited Guests (Part 4)

Regina looked at Valentin, asking quietly, “I said it wasn’t my role to deal with my in-laws directly, but now that things have come this far, I’ll step in.”

He gave a low, bitter smile and nodded—he loved her fierce spirit.

“As your wife, I’ll scare them. Just be warned—it won’t be graceful. It won’t be noble.”

Valentin’s heart raced, filled with angry excitement at the thought. Whether it was real thrill or a side effect of medication, she didn’t know—but she felt his warmth.

His lips pressed tightly together, expression cold, but his touch was oddly gentle. Allen was surprised at this tender side of him—he’d been indifferent before, like when Thomas nearly lost an arm protecting him.

“Fine. Let Regina do as she wishes.”

Allen, sensing trouble, quietly slid to the corner of the sofa. It felt like the household now had two recklessly fearless people.

Regina hesitated. “And… could we bury the boy instead of burning him?”

Assassins usually destroyed bodies completely—no courtesy after sneaking in at night.

Allen agreed it was a dangerous request—Thomas would have opposed it too.

Valentin simply consented. Regina caught his grateful glance and couldn’t understand—it made no sense to him either.

Allen added gently, “But not too close to the estate.”

Regina nodded.

Allen voiced another worry: “It’s bold of her—without Sir Thomas here, showing such force will stir things up.”

Regina smiled fiercely. “I’m ready.”

At dawn, Phinette awoke all the maids and ordered a deep cleaning—as if a god were arriving.

Regina watched thoughtfully, then went to see Joy—her morning helper and seamstress.

“I won’t wear a dress today,” Regina announced sharply.

Joy froze. “Wasn’t that yellow dress nice?”

Regina shook her head and showed her sword. She’d learnt assassins might attack again—they might bring knights too.

Joy, in worry, said, “If the in-laws are coming—especially the Count’s family—you should look noble. But… you might have to fight in it.”

Regina shook her head again. “Pretty dress will get damaged. I might need my sword.”

“I can repair it,” Joy said firmly, needle in hand—determined and proud.

Regina smiled softly and decided, “Okay. Style hair up high.”

“Beauty can be a weapon.”

Later, Allen confirmed, “Sir Thomas’s knights will guard outside the reception room.”

Valentin nodded, watching from the window.

Allen asked worriedly, “Should we stop her?”

Valentin shook his head. “No. If she defeats that proud Count, Harné may come to Balmén sooner.”

Allen asked, “How did the Empress react to us marrying?”

Valentin answered, “She sees it as a threat. A mercenary’s child isn’t noble enough. She’d rather eliminate all other bloodlines.”

Allen sighed, remembering the ex-crown prince who died in a suspicious fall. Power fascinates—but it brings blood.

Valentin, gaze fixed outside, whispered:
“He’ll drown in those blood-soaked sins. My blood too.”

Allen, uneasy, muttered, “Please… stay safe, my Lady.”

Valentin’s eyes darkened, shielding the bright sun behind clouds.

The estate prepared for the Count’s arrival.

But Regina was ready—ready to defend her place, her spouse, and her honour, in whatever way she needed.

“Sir Thomas’s knights will stand outside the reception room, just in case things get dangerous,” Allen reported.

Valentin nodded. True to form, he chose no accessories or tie today—just comfortable clothes from Confe’s selections.

Allen hesitated. “Shouldn’t we stop Lady Regina?”

He had seen her strength but still worried. The Count—cowardly though he was—might bring knights.

Valentin replied calmly, “I thought about stopping her too—but then realised she’s confident. Watching her do this might not be bad.”

Valentin’s composure puzzled Allen, who was disappointed by his ease.

“She’s going to take down that arrogant Count in her own way. Harné might come to Balmén faster because of it.”

Allen detected a quiet pleasure in Valentin’s gaze out the window—always the observer. But he didn’t try to understand exactly why.

“So… how do you think the Empress reacted to our marriage news?”

“She was annoyed,” Valentin said. “She wants to eliminate any royal blood outside the heir. The fact that you’re a mercenary gave her pause. If you have a child, they wouldn’t be pure enough.”

Allen sighed. The royal family had another prince once—beloved by the late emperor. But he died in a suspicious riding accident. Nobles questioned it: his father personally trained him on steep cliffs.

Since then, power had stained the palace with blood—wives died, and the throne consolidated in strange ways.

“Power is interesting,” Valentin mused, “the more drunk you get, the more blood it demands.”

He thought of the camellia trees at the Camellia Palace, nurtured and perfumed with decay.
“My blood might be mixed in the mud they’re trampling. They wouldn’t know.”

Allen grew restless. It was time to let go of the past—Valentin held all the pain.

“I just hope Lady Regina comes back unharmed.”

“Her?” Valentin scowled behind the drifting sunlight. His brow remained tense.

Tonight, the reception room awaited. Servants scurried under Phinette’s fervent orders. Knights stood guard. All watched and waited.

And Regina—ready, fierce, unbowed—prepared to face down the Count with sword and strength… in her own bold, mercenary way.