Chapter 79
Muriela, having enjoyed a pleasant meal with the attendants, returned to her chambers.
Since Sundays had no particular schedule, she decided to fully rest and recover from the fatigue of the previous day.
Rubbing her adorably rounded belly—puffed out from eating so heartily—she lay down on her bed.
If Bianca had seen it, she would’ve launched into a furious round of nagging, but today it was only Florina.
“Ahem…”
As her lady-in-waiting, Florina knew what was expected of her—but at her core, she was a spy.
Muriela knew that as well and didn’t really demand much of her in terms of maidly duties.
Still, from Florina’s perspective, it all felt a bit awkward.
‘The Princess is terrifying. She might not look it now, but you never know when she’ll show that cruelty again.’
After what she’d witnessed the day before, it was hard not to tread carefully.
Meanwhile, Solinor (Muriela) found Florina’s awkward shifting and darting glances strange.
“Why are you standing like that? There’s nothing to do today. Go rest or something.”
“But… I’m the only one attending to Your Highness this week. I should stay nearby at all times…”
But Muriela simply chuckled at that.
“Oh, come on. What kind of nonsense is that? What, you think I’m a little kid? I can manage just fine on my own, so stop worrying.”
Claiming not to be a child when she was only eight was laughable.
But Florina couldn’t bring herself to smile. The image of the Princess smiling as she stabbed someone still haunted her.
Eventually, she replied with an awkward expression that was neither here nor there.
“Understood. Then I’ll stand by outside the door…”
“No, I told you to rest, didn’t I? There’s nothing to do today. I’m tired too. Go take a break.”
“Yes, please rest well, Your Highness.”
“You too, Florina.”
With the Princess being so firm, she had no choice. Florina left the Princess’s chambers.
On her way back to the attendants’ quarters, she ran into the head chef, who was resting at a table in the garden.
Seeing Florina walking slowly, he called out to her in a small voice.
“Ah, excuse me!”
“Yes? Is something the matter?”
He looked rather sheepish, scratching his head before responding after a brief pause.
“Did you enjoy the meal?”
“Yes. Thanks to you. I appreciate all your effort.”
But the chef seemed unsettled about the fact that he’d only served reheated food to the Princess.
“Well, I mean, all I did was reheat some cold food. It wasn’t anything special. But listen, what exactly happened yesterday that left everyone so tired they couldn’t even eat? The Princess was really feroci… er, hmmmmm…”
He had been about to say ferocious, referring to her savage table manners.
But he realized—just in time—that saying such a thing aloud would be far too dangerous.
Right before the word “ferocious” left his lips, he managed to stop himself.
“Anyway, you’re the only one I could ask, you see. Would you mind telling me?”
Bianca was on leave. Sir Hamilton, being a quasi-noble, was too intimidating.
So just like when he had to complain about the missed mealtime, Florina once again became the target.
“…Why do you want to know?”
But Florina responded warily, instinctively on guard.
Not just because she was a spy—but also because she was still mentally on edge.
‘Wait, could the chef be more than he appears? What does he know?’
Florina was experiencing a kind of PTSD after witnessing Muriela’s true nature.
Having seen her entire worldview shaken to the core, she had started to doubt everything and everyone.
Why is the chef asking about something so sensitive when he should be, well, making food?
“Why? I mean, isn’t it normal to be curious about stuff like this?”
Of course, the chef had no ulterior motives. He was just being nosy.
Muriela’s deviation from her usual rigid routine ever since Solinor’s spirit had possessed her…
Especially after Solinor became her ghostly personal trainer, even her diet had drastically changed.
Protein-focused, muscle-building meal plans. And yet suddenly, she’s skipping meals?
How could the head chef not be curious?
Especially since, according to Florina, she supposedly went out for a walk yesterday.
What kind of madwoman takes such an exhausting walk that she skips meals even the next day?
And it’s not like she hasn’t walked around the palace before. He knows those paths well.
Familiar trees, familiar flowers—there’s no real reason it should’ve taken that long.
Of course, if Muriela were a fully grown princess, it might make sense.
Maybe she’d need more time to talk about political secrets with other royals.
But Muriela had only just turned eight.
To the chef, who had no idea just how special Muriela truly was, it was unimaginable.
“…Well, like I said, it was just a walk. She spent time looking at various flowers, and that’s all I can say.”
Naturally, Florina had no intention of backing down either, so the chef had no choice but to return to his seat.
‘Come on, how much of a secret could it really be? We’re all part of the same household—can’t she just share that much? Young people these days… She didn’t seem like that kind of person.’
He was, of course, grumbling to himself internally.
He figured he’d bring it up with the princess later, casually, as if it were just idle chat.
Sir Hamilton was still too intimidating to ask directly.
Even though technically the princess outranked a mere quasi-noble like Hamilton…
Still, Hamilton was a tall, well-built adult male. The chef was the embodiment of bowing to power.
He had no idea that Muriela was, in fact, the scariest person in the entire palace.
Or rather, to be precise, the truly terrifying one was Solinor—who now resided within her.
—
—
It hadn’t been long since Sylvius entered the mansion when he identified the intruders’ true identities.
Though he’d been cracking jokes with his usual nonchalance, he was deep in thought internally.
Now that he’d figured out they were underlings of his former adventuring comrade, the next move was obvious.
He needed to pretend to be captured and dragged away. Once he reached Corbin, everything would fall into place.
As long as he could prove who he was—whether by sharing old memories or demonstrating his magic—he’d be released immediately.
The only remaining problem was this:
‘How do I get captured in the least suspicious-looking way?’
A truly luxurious dilemma, one only the overwhelmingly powerful could afford to have.
He had to let himself be subdued, but that didn’t mean he wanted to get hurt.
He had considered several scenarios for this moment, but the specifics were always saved for last.
That was the key difference between Corbin and Sylvius as strategists.
Accelerating his thoughts, Sylvius quickly came to a conclusion.
Then, smiling again, he turned to his brother and resumed provoking him.
“My dearest little brother. I must commend your effort in uncovering the proof of my treason. Ah, what a meticulously crafted scheme it was—how did you find it? So, what now? What will you do with your devastatingly handsome older brother?”
This time, his brother didn’t rise to the bait.
He’d finally realized that trying to argue with Sylvius would only lead to being played.
Just as the Grand Magician predicted. No matter how bad their relationship was, a brother was still a brother. He knew the rhythm.
‘Yes, now he’s calmed down.’
His brother was always like that—furious at first, then quickly collected.
Depending on how you looked at it, his ability to control his emotions could be seen as either a weakness or a strength.
He was thorough in his work, and most of all, he had a keen merchant’s intuition.
Perfect traits for the heir to a merchant guild.
At least, far more than a scoundrel like Sylvius.
And yet, their parents had always favored the firstborn. The estate staff, too.
How could his younger brother not end up resenting Sylvius?
“Brother. So what you just said—is that an admission that you planned treason?”
“Oh my dear brother, you finally mastered the Northern Continent tongue? Bravo! You’re finally understanding my words. I used to worry you were a slow-witted fool for being such a late bloomer.”
“…Did everyone hear that? He admitted it with his own mouth.”
“Ah! I’m glad to see our guests aren’t deaf after all.”
Meanwhile, the spies surrounding Sylvius were utterly baffled.
There were three at the front entrance, and two more had come down from the second floor through the window, encircling him from behind.
Even though they were startled by Sylvius’s nonchalant attitude…
The real problem was that the current scenario completely contradicted Corbin’s briefing.
‘He said all the evidence was fake, and we’d end up arresting the younger brother instead.’
There was no way a pro like Corbin wouldn’t see through the younger brother’s crude forgery.
When deploying the spies, he had given strict orders:
‘Meet with the elder brother. If it’s clear he’s been falsely accused, arrest the younger instead.’
But now? If they went by what was being said, it sounded like the elder brother was guilty.
But then again, why would a real traitor confess so easily?
They were all thoroughly unsettled—but if the accused himself admitted it, what choice did they have?
—
Read More at – GENZNOVEL.COM!!
PLEASE JOIN OUR DISCORD AND SUBSCRIBE THE ROLE TO RECEIVE LATEST NOTIFICATIONS!!
Click here -> https://discord.gg/S8c2kGVr2g
Comment