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Chapter 274
For the Empress, the Emperor’s death was undeniably a misfortune.
Up until now, Richard had restrained himself and respected the Empress’ opinions—partly out of filial piety toward his biological mother, but just as much because her influence as his senior was overwhelming.
Though abdication had seemed certain, the difference between Emperor and Crown Prince was still immense.
Even under imperial law, the Crown Prince’s authority could not surpass that of the Empress.
In other words, from now on, Richard would be able to act with far more freedom than before.
And whatever actions he took would, without doubt, cause endless trouble for the Empress.
With a pained expression, the Empress pressed her temple as though she had a headache.
“The undertaker will arrive shortly. Go and pay your respects to His Majesty the Emperor on his final journey.”
After urging so, the Empress turned back to the royal physician.
Her husband’s sudden and unexpected death was going to keep her extremely busy for the time being.
And yet, even amidst this chaos, she had thought to summon Iona here. It was a decision-making ability worthy of admiration.
Iona stared silently at the Empress’ back before turning toward the deathbed.
Sensing footsteps approaching, Richard looked back at Iona.
There was something oddly weary in his expression.
Iona stood quietly beside him and looked down at the dead Emperor’s face.
The Emperor’s skin was utterly pale, drained of all color.
Because she had only ever met him rarely and long ago, he felt more like a stranger than someone familiar.
Iona knelt to pay her final respects.
She pressed her lips to his cold, stiffened hand, then rose again. Behind her, Leroy repeated the same action.
It was a farewell both formal and hollow.
Then, without warning, Iona spoke.
“At last, you’ve achieved what you desired.”
At this, Richard let out a sharp, almost spasmodic laugh.
It seemed he had taken her words in a meaning she had not intended.
“So you suspect me like my mother does. All those long years, I endured only to uphold my duty as his son.”
“I merely meant the timing is… convenient.”
“Do you even realize the blasphemous words you’re speaking?”
“But, Your Highness, you show no grief at all, do you?”
He had been the same in his previous life.
Outwardly, he wore the mask of sorrow, but when left alone he had felt almost relieved.
Even the phrase ‘the timing is convenient’ had once come from his own lips.
If that was his true heart as a son, then how could a nephew—practically a stranger—be expected to offer genuine mourning for this death?
At Iona’s calm observation, Richard’s gaze deepened.
“So you know me so well, and still treat me like this?”
Iona stayed silent.
“I asked—knowing the kind of man I am, do you still dare treat me this way?”
“It seems it’s Your Highness the Crown Prince who should mind his words.”
Leroy, who had just risen from bowing to the Emperor, intervened to stop Richard’s excessive remarks.
No one was close enough to overhear their conversation, but there was no harm in caution.
Still, it seemed Leroy wasn’t so much worried about rumors leaking as simply irritated by the Crown Prince’s presumptuous words.
Looking down at Richard with a cold gaze, Leroy spoke.
“When your true feelings are so plain to see, wouldn’t it be stranger if others didn’t notice?”
Richard remained silent.
“Most people hide their emotions for a reason, Your Highness. Desire is usually something ugly.”
Stung by the sharp rebuke, Richard turned a venomous glare toward Leroy.
His eyes even glimmered with hatred, yet even then, a thin strand of restraint held him back.
Raising a commotion before his dead father would only put Richard in a worse position.
The insult he had received from Leroy was not the sort of thing he could expose in front of others either, leaving him no choice but to endure it.
After glaring at Leroy in silence for a long time, Richard suddenly rose roughly from his seat.
Looking at Iona, he declared in a cold voice:
“As soon as the funeral is held, I’ll proceed with the coronation. You will attend without fail—whether in the capacity of a loyal subject or as my sister, you will appear with a smiling face and present me with flowers.”
And with that, he strode out into the corridor, his figure bristling with anger.
His bearing was still proud and imposing, but to Iona, his back looked strangely unstable.
It was not a good sign.
He was in a precarious state, and that instability would inevitably affect the course of future events.
Even when Iona had not interfered with him, he had never been a good leader to begin with.
In a voice low enough for only Leroy to hear, Iona whispered:
“We’ll need to move up our plans.”
She had no intention of sitting idly by until Richard seized actual power.
Periods of upheaval always brought frequent revolutions.
****
The official announcement of the Emperor’s death did not come until the following afternoon.
It seemed there had been some disagreement between the Empress, who wanted to conceal the death, and the Crown Prince, who wished to make it public.
While Richard and the Empress were consumed with immediate concerns, Iona finally gained a rare chance to move freely.
Thanks to the disappearance of the unwelcome guest who had been haunting the reception room daily, she finally had the leisure to receive other visitors.
Out of the many candidates eager for an audience, the first person Iona invited was none other than Saskia.
Since the Empress herself had initially singled her out and demanded Iona bring her, Saskia was someone it was relatively safe to contact even in such times.
Whether this was good for Saskia, however, was another matter.
“Is it true?”
Like an enraged bull, Saskia stormed into the reception room and blurted out the question the moment she saw Iona.
Even though the short question lacked both subject and object, Iona easily understood what she meant.
When she had first come to fetch Iona, Saskia had had no idea why the Empress had recalled her former subordinate.
But then strange rumors had spread—that Iona might be of imperial blood. Naturally, Saskia would be confused.
Glancing at the nearby court attendants, Iona stepped back inside and said:
“It would be better if we spoke about this inside.”
“I’m already inside.”
“At least sit down first.”
After calming Saskia somewhat, Iona dismissed all the attendants from the room.
Even as she moved to sit on the sofa at the center of the reception hall, Saskia continued firing off her annoying questions.
“Did you already know?”
“Is there any actual evidence?”
“So what happens now?”
“Does that mean I have to start addressing you formally from now on?”
The questions varied, but they didn’t stop.
Pulling a slip of paper from her sleeve, Iona said:
“I don’t know the details myself. I only heard that an anonymous letter was sent to the imperial family. Its authenticity hasn’t been confirmed yet.”
On the paper, she had written:
[It’s true.]
Saskia glanced between Iona’s face and the words written on the paper.
After all, it had been Saskia who first taught Iona the basics of secure communication.
Understanding her intent, Saskia quickly asked:
“So no concrete proof has surfaced yet?”
“I’m working on finding it.”
She wrote on the paper again:
[I have it. I just don’t plan to make it public yet.]
“Then I don’t have to start speaking formally to you quite yet.”
“That must be a relief for you, Commander.”
[The reason I invited you here today is because I need to ask you for something—discreetly.]
Saskia scratched the back of her head with a troubled look.
Saskia reached out toward Iona and casually flicked her fingers, as if to say, Hand me the pen.
Without a word, Iona passed her the writing instrument and smoothly continued their cover conversation aloud.
“Still, perhaps you might feel a little regret. Given how deep our ties run, I could have been a strong backing for you, Commander.”
“Ah, well… I’m a knight of impeccable integrity, you see. I don’t concern myself with those sorts of connections.”
Uncharacteristically, Saskia stressed her knightly honor, quietly stepping back from the implication.
At the same time, she hastily scrawled across the paper:
[Are you trying to plot… something like a rebellion?]
The jagged strokes revealed her unease—an anxiety at being entangled in something troublesome.
Iona gave the faintest nod and replied aloud:
“From the outside, people will assume we’re on the same side anyway. Since you’ll be misunderstood regardless, shouldn’t you at least gain something from it?”
To any outsider listening, her words would sound like nothing more than a playful jest.
A short silence followed—then both Iona and Saskia let out simultaneous, artificial laughter.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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