Rosteratu was impotent, and he’s a half-witted buffoon who couldn’t even take care of his health properly. If Albert hadn’t been trapped in the tower like that, then it’s obvious that he would have already become king.
There would be not much difference in prolonging the timing of it for a little while longer. It’s just…
It’s just a shame that their time alone would be lessened now.
The tower was a unique space that completely separated two people from all the others.
Albert looked out the window. Before he knew it, the red sun had already touched the horizon.
Albert thought of Rosé. Her face kept flashing across his mind, regardless of whether he remained lying in bed or whether he was torturing the mages.
What did she see?
He was sure that the disaster she’d face would be enough to make her afraid of entering the contract. He was just worried that it might be too much of a shock for her.
Albert recalled Rosé’s face.
It’s only been a few days since he last saw her, with that unique way of speaking of hers, the tone of her voice, her smile. Even the way she looked at him whenever she tried to flatter him. He wanted to see it all.
‘I miss you, Rosé.’
Along with the sword that he wielded all day long, Albert left the prison cell. Blood trickled down its blade.
After letting out a deep sigh, he took off his thin shirt, leaving it on the dungeon’s floor. It was entirely stained with blood—blood that was accumulated from all the people he tortured today.
The blood on the sword had already dried up, leaving behind a black stain. Albert took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blade.
Footsteps rang out.
‘If it’s someone who’ll come to this place,’
Then the first people who came to mind were Liam and Schubert. If not them…
It was highly likely that it was Mercy, the daughter of the leader of the mages—the lord of the magic tower—who Albert had tortured. Sure enough, it was as he expected.
He watched as Mercy ran to him from afar. Putting on the fresh shirt that was prepared for him, Albert murmured casually.
“Is there a reason for you to run like this? We’ve decided to meet today anyway.”
Mercy gasped for air, unable to answer back right away. She was winded from running around the dungeon while searching for Albert. She couldn’t use magic to find him.
Staring at the huffing Mercy, Albert’s first question was about Rosé’s safety. At this, Mercy’s eyes widened, then she grumbled.
“Your Highness, I understand why you’re thinking of your lover first, but that’s not the problem we have at hand right now.”
“Right, the problem. Still, let’s start with talking about her first. How was Rosé after the disaster?”
“…She’s alright now.”
So there was a time when she wasn’t fine. The look in Albert’s eyes grew cold, and in response, Mercy flinched. She sighed deeply.
“I believe it would be better for Your Highness to hear it personally. The story is longer than you’d think. But that’s not what I’m here to report.”
“What is it then.”
“Rosteratu killed Marquis Evnen.”
Albert doubted his ears. However, as if already expecting that Albert would snap back at her, Mercy said it again. He was killed. Him.
“…So he’s dead.”
Stroking his chin, Albert laughed despondently.
How very unexpected.
It’s true that he hoped the disaster would cause a rift between Rosteratu and Marquis Evnen, but he also knew that Rosteratu wouldn’t just let go of the marquis that easily.
Rosteratu was very fond of Marquis Evnen. After all, he was loyal to the royal family—though to be more precise, that loyalty belonged solely to Rosteratu—and he offered bribes regularly. It’s safe to say that Rosteratu considered the marquis to be his most trusted confidant.
In addition, the king’s departed consort had been Marquis Evnen’s younger sister.
Marquis Evnen certainly took advantage of being the king’s confidant, making it possible for him to wield an enormous amount of power. But at the same time, he also knew his place very well so he never did anything presumptuous.
It was a great boon to Albert’s side that Rosteratu killed his confidant with his own hands.
But, no. It might not be entirely an advantage.
‘I was going to interrogate him about what he knows about black magic.’
This plan was completely ruined.
‘But what made him so impatient?’
Rosteratu threw Albert in that tower and blamed him for the current drought plaguing the land, along with the corruption and tyranny of the nobles. The king claimed that because the prince was nothing more than a vulgar orphan, God’s wrath had been cast upon them.
The nobles who protested against this were stricken down by Marquis Evnen behind their backs, however this just made them cover up their resentment and keep it to a hush.
The way he slammed down the people who opposed him showed exactly how shrewd and cowardly Rosteratu was. However, at least he wasn’t the kind of ruler who was crazy enough to kill his most trusted confidants.
As long as he hadn’t gone insane of course.
Albert returned his sword into its scabbard and strode to the dungeon’s exit. Mercy followed after him.
“What kind of disaster was it?”
“It was a disaster that induced a dream where people experience what they fear the most. It seems like Rosteratu experienced an eternity in that nightmare.”
As he shrugged into an overcoat, Albert’s brows narrowed. The disaster was completely different from what he was expecting.
“That’s not what it’s supposed to be.”
“Yes, it’s originally planned to be an earthquake that would split the villa completely in half, but the dragon changed his mind that evening…”
Mercy paused for a moment, but she soon added.
“…after he met Miss Artius.”
Tap, tap. Albert tapped the handle of his sword. One eyebrow rose as he spoke in a low voice.
“Then you mean this has something to do with the current situation.”
Mercy wordlessly nodded. However, she didn’t explain further.
Albert wasn’t going to force her to explain either. Even if there really was a problem, it would be best to hear it directly from Rosé.
Fear. Dread. Weren’t these subjects related to Rosé?
Comments for chapter "Chapter 111"
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