CHAPTER 36…….
Arpad gave a crooked smile, placed a sword hilt into Hillia’s hand, and asked,
“What shall we do, my lady?”
The word my lady sounded oddly unsettling.
Almost as if he were mocking me—it sent a chill down my spine.
I was just as startled as the servants were.
‘Cut out his tongue? Even in serious cases of lèse-majesté, no one’s done that in over a hundred years!’
If I actually went through with that now, it would cause huge problems.
Especially since I still wasn’t formally recognized as the crown princess.
For me, in my current position, to cut out a subordinate’s tongue for lèse-majesté?
It would obviously spark a challenge to my qualifications.
Evangeline would be thrilled to proclaim—
‘We can’t let such a cruel woman become crown princess, one who shows no mercy!’
The empress and Evangeline’s faction would nod eagerly along.
With the Artanus Hall banquet ahead—where the emperor’s recognition was on the line—I couldn’t afford to make such a blunder.
But at the same time, I couldn’t simply let this man off leniently.
Especially with Arpad (Gerald) openly calling for harsh punishment.
Everyone was already watching my every move—waiting to see what I’d decide.
If I were the soft-hearted “Lady Hillia” they thought they knew, I would never issue such a brutal order.
The servants of House Delphine didn’t even have the concept of watching their tone around me.
So their eyes still said in unison:
‘There’s no way the soft-hearted Hillia could do something so cruel.’
If I refused Arpad’s suggestion now, they’d instantly conclude:
‘Ah, as expected, she’s still the same soft-hearted Hillia.’
They were already used to looking down on me.
It would take no time at all for their restraint to vanish.
The fear I’d instilled in them just moments ago would evaporate; the years of disdain and complacency would return.
Arpad’s choice of the extreme phrase “cut out his tongue” was deliberate—meant to narrow the options.
One: actually cut out the tongue, gaining fear but also resentment.
Two: refuse, and be looked down on again.
He was testing which of these two I would choose.
‘What, is he possessed by some ghost that died from not getting to test people? Or is this kind of thing engraved into royal blood?’
Thanks to him, I was the one in a tight spot.
And then—I reached my conclusion.
“…”
A chilling silence hung over the Delphine estate.
Hillia’s assessment was correct.
Not only Arpad, but most of the servants were watching her, trying to reassess her.
‘Depending on her answer, she’ll either crush us with fear… or be ignored again.’
If Arpad himself were given this choice, his conclusion would be obvious:
Cut out the tongue… and then cut off the head of whoever dared present him with such a choice.
Naturally—he would never leave someone who tried to manipulate him alive.
In that sense, sparing Hillia right now was already unusually generous of him.
‘Given that, a test like this is only natural.’
Arpad thought shamelessly.
At the same time, he felt interest rising all the way to his scalp.
What conclusion would this strange, surprising woman arrive at?
Would she disappoint him—or astonish him?
Then, breaking the brief silence, her pink lips moved.
“Gerald.”
Violet eyes stared straight at Arpad.
“Yes, my lady.”
Arpad repeated the absurd phrase my lady with a slightly heightened mood.
Well, not that absurd—though it was unthinkable for Crown Prince Arpad, for the mercenary king Gerald, it fit well enough.
‘An employer is, after all, a master.’
Hillia gave her order without hesitation—just like someone’s true master.
“Drag him along. This isn’t the right place to spill blood.”
“…Yes.”
Ludwig’s attendant let out a shriek of horror.
“Eek! Stop! You can’t! I’m the grand duke’s man! If you punish me—!”
Gerald grabbed the man’s tongue, silencing his pig-slaughter squeals.
Then he followed Hillia into a side room off the hall, dragging the attendant with him.
She allowed only Gerald and the attendant into the room.
Gerald waited, slightly less interested now, to hear her next command.
‘Now she’ll probably tremble and order me to cut the tongue.’
He’d narrowed her options down to two, and now that she had apparently picked one, his excitement faded.
It dawned on him—
‘I must have been expecting a lot.’
Someone who only acted within choices given by others could never be his equal.
This alone wasn’t enough to pass final judgment, but Hillia clearly hadn’t cleared one of his bars.
And then—something strange happened.
Hillia didn’t order Gerald to cut the man’s tongue.
She gave a different command.
“Put that chair over here.”
“…What?”
So unexpected that Arpad momentarily forgot to act his mercenary role and just replied.
Hillia’s lips curved sharply.
“Oh my, it seems Mercenary King Gerald doesn’t even know the proper way to speak to an employer.”
Her openly mocking tone made Arpad frown.
This time, he had made a mistake.
He obediently apologized and, performing a task fit for a servant, did as she asked.
“My apologies.”
He placed the chair where she indicated.
Then he watched to see what on earth she was up to.
The attendant looked just as baffled.
Meanwhile, Hillia climbed onto the chair and took something down from the wall.
This was a guest waiting room.
The walls were hung with many items symbolizing the history and dignity of House Delphine.
There were intimidating things—shields, swords, axes—
And others that seemed purely decorative.
What Hillia took down with a clunk was one of the decorative-looking ones—a crystal ornament carved into the shape of a bird.
Gripping it, she smiled confidently and gave Gerald another order.
“Restrain him and make him stick out his tongue.”
The attendant, now full of terror, tried to bolt.
“Aaagh! Spare me! Your Grace!!!”
Gerald took his chance, hooked the man’s leg, and sent him rolling across the floor.
The man smashed his face into a table as he fell.
“Gaaah!!!”
Clutching his nose, he rolled on the ground, blood streaming down.
From outside, the scream would probably sound like his tongue had just been cut out.
Gerald grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck, dragged him over, and threw him to the floor.
Then he pinned the attendant in place by stabbing the blade into the back of his hand.
Thunk!
“AAAAHHH!!!”
The chilling scream rang out.
Gerald glanced up at Hillia.
But unlike a typical pampered lady, she didn’t even flinch.
‘She really is strange.’
Any ordinary noblewoman would faint—or at least recoil.
But she didn’t so much as blink.
Noting that, he faithfully carried out her order as a mercenary would.
He grabbed the man’s jaw, forced it open, and pulled out his tongue with his fingers.
“Shall I cut it?” he asked.
Hillia shook her head.
“…”
Behind the mask, Arpad’s red eyes showed even more disappointment than before.
‘So she can’t do it after all?’
Yet she hadn’t so much as twitched at the violence so far—something about it felt inconsistent.
And then—almost as if mocking his hasty judgment—Hillia moved.
She pressed the ornament she’d taken from the wall against the man’s tongue and murmured a few activation words.
At once, the crystal bird in her hand began to glow—red, like blood.
The attendant screamed and thrashed in panic.
“GYAAAHHH!!!”
Branded