Chapter 100
“Why is the Emperor accusing the Crown Prince of treason?”
“Emperor Herace has yellow blisters all over his body, and his fever is severe. Until now, he suspected my father because he had brought him medicine. They even falsely accused the Crown Prince of attempting assassination to put him on the throne.”
“…!”
“At dawn, the Crown Prince was locked in the North Tower. My father, Yan, and I were imprisoned in the underground dungeon, only being released during the day.”
What is this story?
This past never appeared in the original work.
“And now you’re causing a commotion and pretending you don’t know anything?”
Gerald, you…!
I never expected the Archduke’s revenge to be this meticulous.
But wait—those symptoms of the Emperor sound familiar.
Should I dig a little?
“Blisters all over the body?”
“Yes. I heard the symptoms get worse in sunlight. So they drew blackout curtains and wrapped their whole body in bandages. Even after changing them repeatedly, pus would still seep out, so they must have needed someone to vent their anger on.”
‘Gasp… that symptom is…’
“Do you get it now, Sinclair? So kill him. You must kill the Archduke.”
“Do I have to?”
“For your future. Theodore must die so that the child you bear becomes the Archduke.”
A shadow fell across Kenneth’s face. Like a tempting witch.
Was it always like this in the past?
Not scolding, but gentle coaxing.
Sinclair stood and walked to Kenneth.
“Sis.”
“…?”
Kenneth froze.
‘This child has never called me “sis” before.’
“I’m not a fool just because I didn’t answer and bowed quietly.”
“What?”
“Because I couldn’t protect myself. I bowed instinctively.”
“…!”
“Well, at first I followed Father’s wishes, then yours, Sis. I thought to protect my precious nephew Alfred, I had to obey those orders. That’s how it is. Demons don’t have… choices.”
“….”
Something was wrong.
Even at the wedding, and just now in the carriage incident, she didn’t dare look at me for cues.
Could it be that she had been waiting in that shabby, crumbling secluded villa for a day like this?
Kenneth looked into Sinclair’s pink eyes with doubt.
“But Sis, I’m already married, and Owen isn’t even family. Then why should I follow the orders of someone I don’t consider my child?”
Sinclair took a step forward.
Threatening.
Kenneth involuntarily stepped back.
“Why should I obey the wishes of someone I don’t even consider a sibling?”
Unconsciously, Kenneth’s mouth went dry.
This child resembles her mother.
Sinclair’s mother had surely raised terrifying black mist and clouds the day she brought this child home.
It was hard to breathe. Whether because of the air or her magic…
Kenneth’s spine shivered.
Then.
Sinclair grabbed both of Kenneth’s shoulders.
So she couldn’t escape.
Just like Kenneth had done to Sinclair long ago.
“Why should I be imprisoned in the supposedly dreadful underground dungeon of the Archduke?”
Kenneth’s lips twisted.
“Would Father, you, or Yan consider me family if I did that?”
Kenneth tried to push Sinclair’s arms away, but her grip was unexpectedly strong.
“If I kill the Archduke, will the Archduke spare the Crown Prince, the Emperor, and you, Sis?”
Sinclair didn’t let go. Like a cat playing with a mouse in a jar.
As the lamp flared, Sinclair’s fluorescent pink eyes blazed.
“If you wanted to talk to me today, you should have begged, not threatened.”
“You—!”
Kenneth raised her index finger to scold Sinclair. Sinclair calmly bent the finger and clenched it in her hand.
“So undignified.”
“Ugh!”
Kenneth moaned involuntarily from the pressure. It wasn’t normal strength.
A wave of fear surged.
The child in front of her wasn’t Sinclair.
She was a witch…
The one who ruined her family ten years ago.
Kenneth’s legs nearly gave out. She had to tense her calves to stay upright.
“You must act like the Empress, Kenneth von Zeyer. Are you going to let emotions show over something so trivial when you’ve prepared all your life to be Empress?”
Kenneth went pale.
‘Should I… kill her?’
Sinclair calmly placed Kenneth’s trapped hands by her thigh. Then meticulously tidied her clothing.
When Sinclair’s hand touched her collar, Kenneth flinched.
‘Is she going to snap my neck?’
Kenneth hesitated whether to scream or try to choke her back.
Then.
“Decide, Your Majesty.”
“…!”
“Will you side with the Emperor? Or the Archduke?”
“….”
“This is the only advice I can give as your sibling.”
Sinclair stepped back, inspected Kenneth’s clothing, and smiled.
Kenneth’s jaw trembled in fear. Humiliation. Tears threatened to fall.
The witch who should have died in a small room dared to face a pureblood like her.
But Sinclair leaned close to Kenneth’s ear, over her shoulder.
“Hmph.”
Kenneth instinctively held her breath.
The world grew still.
The sound of Sinclair’s lips, her tongue brushing her upper teeth, pierced Kenneth’s ears and imprinted on her mind.
“The Archduke knows everything, Sis. That I’m a witch, that I married to kill the Archduke and his father. Everything.”
Sinclair stepped back, winking at Kenneth.
Finally, Kenneth’s knees gave out.
Thunk.
She collapsed onto the sofa. Her heart pounded violently.
“So decide. Will you side with the Emperor and push Alfred to his death, or side with the Archduke to save Alfred and the family?”
“…!”
Pale and staring at her, Kenneth saw Sinclair bow slightly, then turn and leave.
A quiet darkness fell.
‘The Archduke knows everything.’
Kenneth clasped her trembling hands. Her heart raced.
Whoosh. Creak.
The lamp absorbed the whale oil with a sharp hiss. Kenneth snapped back to reality and sprang up.
The conversation wasn’t over.
About what to do next.
Kenneth opened the door to continue speaking, but stopped.
In the hallway, female knights in the armor of Schlossan Palace and maids trailed Sinclair like a protective escort.
She was flustered.
This wasn’t Schlossan Palace—it was the Heather estate.
Yet so many palace attendants were mobilized to protect just Sinclair?
Looking up, only two imperial knights, two maids, and Heather estate’s maids remained.
They were overwhelmingly outnumbered.
“Shall I escort you to the dining room?”
A Heather estate maid stood politely with her hands clasped. Beside her, Kenneth’s two maids and knights stood.
It looked pitiful.
“Your Majesty?”
Kenneth stood in a daze. Geshitian cautiously observed her.
“Are you all right?”
Not at all.
“Is there still some time left?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll rest a little longer.”
Kenneth went back inside, leaning against the door.
The half-moon rose outside the window. The day had been too long. Too long to live as if nothing had happened.
How could she protect herself and Alfred?
She had disappeared. Her father, who protected her, had collapsed.
All because of the Archduke from the borderlands she had dismissed.
She clenched her teeth.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
She was utterly defeated.
Kenneth buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling lightly.
Sinclair walked toward the dining room, her mind racing.
Giant Hagweed.
The Emperor must have been poisoned by this plant. The white radial clusters at the tip emit furano-coumarin, a phototoxic substance.
You wouldn’t notice it without sunlight. So perhaps he inhaled it at night and didn’t realize?
But once the sun rises, it reacts instantly to UV.
She remembered seeing it in the demon realm plains and muttered while reading a botany book. Who knew it would be useful here?
Ridiculous.
Typical of male leads in a romance fantasy.
Yet even a background extra could pull this off.
Hmph, impressive.
Gerald, were you really like this?
My man…
Sinclair couldn’t help but smile.
The Emperor… serves him right.
Alfred must have been quite shocked.
I told him to report things in advance—was this his consideration to spare me pain?
Sometimes he’s unpredictably meticulous.
Wait, what about the women in the secret room?
According to the original story, the room was built two years after the Emperor’s ascension.
Countless women came and went until his death.
Women abandoned by their families like me.
For the prosperity of the family, at the whim of the Emperor, they could die anytime.
If the Emperor inhaled it, surely they did too?
What happened to those innocent girls?
The Emperor must have discarded them like trash, keeping it secret.
Ugh, I should have consulted first before acting.
Sinclair grew anxious. Taking action first and watching the play would ease her mind.
“Is the Archduke here yet?”
“I’m not sure. Shall I check?”
Under the Archduchess’s command, Sophia quickly responded.
“Yes.”
At her words, a maid from the Heather estate rushed forward.
