~Chapter 135~
When breakfast time rolled around, everyone gathered together in one place.
Aria stepped forward, her eyes drifting over each person in turn.
There were the knights from House Bendrix and House Meyer, the loyal attendants who had served Aria since childhood, and the comrades who had walked through life and death by her side…
And even those she had only met after awakening.
Tita, one of the newer faces, swallowed nervously.
‘Will Her Highness accept what we’re asking of her?’
Their goal was to drive out Padva and put Aria on the throne. But if Aria herself didn’t want it, none of this could even begin.
On top of that, Aria had already refused once before.
‘I won’t take revenge. I’m not even that angry at Padva, and my family still matters to me.’
‘Taking back the throne in times like these means bloodshed. If all I gain from killing my only brother and so many talented people is a hollow, puppet crown…’
‘Is it really worth it?’
Throughout history, it’s rarely the kind or capable who seize power—only those who crave it. But Aria never had that kind of hunger.
With every gaze in the room fixed on her, Aria finally spoke, her voice steady.
“I will reclaim the throne.”
Tita forgot to breathe for a moment.
“I’ll bring Padva down and wipe out every last trace of Cambiata.”
Her crimson eyes swept over the crowd.
“Will you fight alongside me?”
For a heartbeat, the room was silent. Then, a wave of cheers broke out.
“We’ll follow you, Your Highness!”
The air grew thick with excitement.
Tita clasped her hands, her heart pounding.
‘What was I even worried about?’
The look in Her Highness’s eyes was exactly the same as the day she saved Tita in the Principality of Swatan—unfaded, undimmed.
Aria spoke again.
“For the peace and prosperity of the Ramsar Empire.”
The loyal soldiers, recognized by Princess Ariadna herself, answered in one voice.
“For the peace and prosperity of the Ramsar Empire!”
With the atmosphere now blazing, Aria’s faction began planning in earnest.
“The prince is trying to make the entire Empire see us as enemies.”
Minette broke the ice, and the others began analyzing Padva’s power step by step.
“Since the princess became comatose and His Majesty fell into slumber, the prince has essentially ruled alone. To the Empire’s people, he’s already imprinted as their leader.”
“He always played the role of a dutiful brother, never driven by ambition but by responsibility. Thanks to that, the support Princess Aria once had has naturally shifted to him.”
Lance, Nocturne’s aide, offered his analysis. Marian, Aria’s former advisor, picked it up smoothly. Lance nodded in agreement.
“Yes, but at the end of the day, they’ve only been following him while waiting for Princess Aria to recover.”
“Now, by declaring Aria dead, he’s trying to absorb all that support for himself.”
Nocturne finished the summary, and Minette let out a sigh.
“He’s putting on quite a show. The trouble is, people are buying it. Maybe it’s his political instincts, or maybe the circumstances are just right… But those psychic Eshafes he surrounds himself with, and the artifacts scattered throughout the Empire—they’re suspicious.”
Minette, an A-rank psychic Eshafe herself, was wary—her own assassination plot had been uncovered.
Aria, who’d been quietly listening, finally spoke.
“An eye for an eye. If Padva wants a spectacle, we’ll show him what real showmanship looks like.”
“How?”
Minette’s question made Aria smile, a little slyly.
“First, let’s start by telling people the truth.”
As Aria laid out her plan, the admiration and respect in the room grew with every word.
Nocturne found himself watching Aria’s profile in silence.
‘How long has it been…?’
Aria, standing at the center of her people, looked more at home than ever—as if she’d finally returned to where she belonged.
Even if she herself still doubted it.
Nocturne thought back to their conversation the night before.
‘If I end up hurting a lot of people, or even if it looks like I might… please stop me. Even if you have to use the last resort.’
Aria had only agreed to reclaim her place on the throne after making Nocturne promise that.
And Nocturne had accepted.
But somehow, he didn’t feel gloomy about it. A wry smile tugged at his lips.
‘What “the last resort” is… really depends on who you ask.’
Aria had already lost so much, and now she acted as if she was desperate to throw away even her own life.
Ever since he learned the whole truth at the Imperial Hospital, Nocturne had made himself a vow.
He’d get back everything Aria had lost—her people, her status, her throne, her pride, her honor, her awe… everything that was hers.
Even if the curse couldn’t be lifted and Aria never realized she was the real one…
He’d make sure she lived her life, convinced she was the true Ariadna.
Everything that was yours—I’ll return it to you.
No matter what.
Chapter 4
Ariadna
“It’s such a relief they finally captured Princess Ariadna’s clone,” the countess said, breaking the silence.
At her words, the eyes of everyone in the room lit up.
Clone. The word didn’t really suit a bright midday salon, but lately, it was a subject you couldn’t escape in high society.
“So, they finally caught it.”
“Well, it’s only natural after how thoroughly they searched the palace. Those rebels have been making so much noise lately, spreading their lies. It got so bad that even the younger ladies were starting to believe them.”
“What exactly were they saying? I was out of the capital at the time…”
A pause followed the youngest lady’s question, but someone eventually explained.
“They claimed that Prince Padva conspired with Cambiata to clone the princess.”
“Goodness, how blasphemous!”
Apparently, the clone and those rebels had tried to push back against Prince Padva’s revelations.
The ladies recalled the chaos when the rebels struck back in the capital and city center, unleashing artifacts and Eshafes.
They remembered hearing those wild accusations—that Prince Padva had masterminded the cloning experiments and joined forces with Cambiata.
“It really was shocking… Even though, in the end, the rebellion failed.”
The rebellion, for all its noise, ended in the most anticlimactic way.
“There’s something that hasn’t been made public yet… The truth is, the clone’s lifespan ran out and it died.”
Several ladies drew in a sharp breath.
With the clone—who had become the rebels’ figurehead—gone, the whole movement fell apart. It was inevitable.
“Cloned Eshafes are known to have short lives, so it’s not surprising, really.”
“This one lasted longer than most. I heard most don’t make it a week.”
“Exactly. And it’s already been three months since Prince Padva revealed the clone even existed.”
“If anything, it just proves Cambiata is getting better at this horrible science. It’s terrifying.”
Then the youngest lady voiced a doubt.
“So, are you saying all the princess’s supporters were brainwashed? There are a lot of high-ranking Eshafes among them—I can’t imagine they’d all fall under mind control so easily.”
A short silence, and then the eldest lady gently corrected her.
“Supporters of the princess? You mean rebels.”
“Oh—of course. The rebels, I meant.”
“Naturally, they were brainwashed. …Although it’s probably best not to talk about these things too openly.”
“Most of the warriors coming back from the front weren’t exactly in their right minds. That would make them easier to manipulate.”
“And the duke, after losing the princess, lost himself to madness. If you show a man like that a clone who looks exactly like her, of course he’d fall for it.”
“Cambiata hasn’t changed their tactics one bit. They’re as underhanded as ever.”
“I see… so that’s what happened.”
As the young lady shrank back, the eldest smiled kindly.
“At least now they can finally hold a proper funeral for the princess. That’s something to be grateful for.”
Padva had delayed Princess Ariadna’s funeral until the clone was found.
After all, Cambiata had used her body for their experiments, making a proper funeral impossible.
But now, with the clone dead and the princess’s remains finally recovered, they could honor her as she deserved.
The ladies let out a heavy sigh.
“Thinking of the princess always leaves me with a heavy heart.”
“Maybe our salon should make a donation in her memory…”
And so the conversation shifted toward preparations for the upcoming funeral.
