The Destiny of the Royal Family
Beneath the grandeur of the royal palace lied a prison meant for the gravest offenders, those who targeted nobles or even members of the royal family. Presently, it housed the former occupants of the palace – the king, the queen, the concubines, and the children of the queen and concubines. Each of them occupied a separate cell, their hands bound by chains, and their once ornate garments replaced with simple, worn-out prison attire.
"Is anyone there? Someone! Let us out!"
"Release us from here!"
"What about our meals? I'm starving!"
The children's high-pitched voices echoed through the dungeon, yet no one came to attend to their pleas. Frustrated by the lack of response, the queen's children threw tantrums.
Within their cells, the king and queen sat with faces drained of color. The concubines and the second prince, having given up hope, huddled in a corner with their knees drawn up.
Only the queen's children remained oblivious to the severity of their situation.
"In such circumstances, you can still make that much noise."
Suddenly, a voice rang out, causing everyone to startle.
Beyond the iron bars, a figure, seemingly out of place in the grim prison setting, continued in a cheerful tone, "Impressive, not letting being thrown into a cell get to you. But I suppose that makes it more enjoyable."
With a triumphant laugh, Lefebvre's eyes showed no signs of amusement. His cold gaze pierced through the bars as he continued, "You've lasted quite well even after being thrown into the dungeon during the day..."
"You're from earlier...."
The royal family had been in the dungeon for about half a day. Although there were no windows in the underground prison, the diminishing glow of the candles placed there would give them a rough estimate of the passing time. It was now past noon, and the moon was nearing its zenith.
Lefebvre nodded in response to the king's remark.
"Yes, indeed!"
Lefebvre appeared in simpler attire than during the day, prompting the king to approach the iron bars.
"Let us out! I haven't done anything! I had no knowledge of the prime minister embezzling or evading taxes, nor did I know about the queen mistreating Lucienne or indulging in extravagance!"
"What...!?"
Upon the king's words, the queen trembled, her eyes narrowing sharply as she approached the bars.
"If you're going to say that, weren't you also living extravagantly? Collecting those debauched courtesans, buying them jewelry, and handing out money! Sound familiar!?"
"Quiet! I am the king! What's wrong with a king living luxuriously!?"
"I am the queen, too!"
As the arguing parents continued, the children who had been making a racket earlier stared wide-eyed.
The scene struck Lefebvre as absurd, and he burst into laughter.
"Hahaha...!"
Amusedly laughing as if watching a spectacle, the king, queen, and children observed Lefebvre. However, sensing something, the concubine and the second prince huddled closer to the edge as if intimidated.
After a boisterous laugh, Lefebvre spoke, "You still don't get it, huh?"
Approaching the bars, Lefebvre peered at the king. "You were no good because you did nothing. Well, that makes sense. Despite being the king, you didn't involve yourself in politics, changed women every day, indulged in luxurious meals, and bought decorations for women. Yet, you kept driving conscientious subordinates away, transferring them to distant regions or forcing them to resign. You did nothing befitting a king."
"Even if your royal authority is taken away, it's no surprise," Lefebvre said with a laughter-infused voice.
Next, he turned his attention to the queen. "As for you, Queen, ideally, you should have advised the king. Instead, you secluded yourself in the harem, living a life of extravagance, right? Dresses, jewels, gold and silver ornaments, expensive imports, wine, and lavish meals resembling banquets every day. The royal treasury was disappearing due to your extravagance and the king's."
The queen, trembling, responded, "I-I didn't know about that! No one stopped me! If I knew the treasury was struggling, I would have stopped!"
Lefebvre's gray eyes narrowed. "I couldn't stop~! Even if someone did, they'd face severe punishment~! Besides, Queen, you're quick to dismiss any servant you don't like!"
Mimicking the queen's voice, Lefebvre laughed heartily, visibly amusing himself at her expense.
The queen's face blushed with embarrassment. Personnel matters in the harem were entirely under the queen's control. Those working there always maintained vigilance not to upset her and constantly tried to gauge her mood. Moreover, they witnessed the mistreatment of Lucienne. Advising the queen was out of the question, and considering oneself cute made it even more impossible.
"And you three brats over there," Lefebvre said, suddenly halting his laughter and pointing at the royal children.
"Since I know what you did to Lucienne, I'll make sure to return the favor to all of you," Lefebvre declared in a deceptively gentle voice.
With that, he unleashed the murderous intent he had been holding back. Even if they couldn't comprehend the killing intent, there seemed to be an instinctive fear as the king, queen, and their children stumbled to the ground, making failed attempts to breathe.
Seeing their reactions, Lefebvre reined in the killing intent. "Oh, come on, passing out from this level of killing intent? How boring," he muttered and turned around.
Footsteps approached from that direction, and Bernard appeared with a lantern in hand. "You, don't release such intense killing intent. The guards and soldiers are getting scared."
"Oh, it's you," Lefebvre said, and the tension in the air eased. The oppressive atmosphere, filled with a piercing killing intent, dissipated, and Bernard secretly sighed in relief.
"What do you intend to do with them?" Bernard asked.
After experiencing Lefebvre's intense killing intent, the royal family seemed to have lost consciousness.
"Well, first, I'll make some scalding hot tea for the queen. Then, I'll have the princesses cut their hair and play until they get bruises. Perhaps the eldest prince can enjoy some water play," Lefebvre explained.
"I see," Bernard responded. These were the details Lefebvre had mentioned in his report.
"Then, I'll put them in cages and place them in the square below the castle. I'll make a sign that says, 'Help yourselves,'" Lefebvre continued.
"But will the people readily attack them?" Bernard questioned.
Lefebvre narrowed his eyes slyly. "I'll incite them. Oh, the king, consort, and the second prince are unnecessary, so feel free to do as you please with them."
"Well, in that case, take them to the square with the others. Both the king and consort, along with the second prince, have indulged too much in luxury. They've leaked our country's information to other nations in exchange for gold and freedom," Bernard explained.
"Oh, that's beyond forgiveness," Lefebvre remarked.
Lefebvre was thrilled.
The queen consort and the second prince were insignificant to him, and the king didn't capture his interest much either.
However, the queen and her children were a different story.
Ideally, he would have enjoyed tormenting them slowly over five years, much like Lucienne had experienced. However, when political issues came into play, it wasn't that straightforward. He needed to get it done quickly.
Nevertheless, he could still get back at them in a way that satisfied him.
Lucienne might not wish for such revenge, but Lefebvre didn't care. He wanted to subject them to the same fate just because it displeased him.
It wasn't for Lucienne's sake; it was purely self-indulgence.
At the same time, it served as a deterrent.
What would happen if someone laid a hand on Lucienne?
If the results were clear for all to see, fewer foolish individuals would dare to try in the future.
And that was all he wanted—no one approaching Lucienne.
...Lucy is my precious Lucy, after all.
"Oh, by the way, is it okay to do it with these guys here? Normally, we would use a dedicated place, but can't really let them out from here, right?"
"Yeah, I'll allow it. Just try not to break too much,"
"No problem. I'm an assassin, you know? I'll make sure they remain sane until the execution," Lefebvre added with a sinister smile.
Bernard thought it would be a kind of hell, but he chose not to comment.
With that, Bernard handed a bag to Lefebvre. A crisp sound indicated its height.
Lefebvre had been hired by Bernard with the condition "until the coup is successful." It was an agreement where he received an upfront payment, additional fees upon completion, and the remaining amount afterward. Even without checking the contents, he could feel the weight and knew that the payment had been made correctly.
Bernard had never failed to pay the agreed-upon fee or tried to shortchange Lefebvre. Lefebvre had full trust in that regard.
Now, the time was his own—a break from work.
In other words, Lefebvre's private time for his hobbies.
After handing over the items, Bernard quickly left the underground dungeon.
Lefebvre muttered an incantation, casting spatial magic to toss the bag safely inside.
"Now, let's indulge in a little bit of fun torture, shall we?" There was only a limited time during the night when Lucienne was asleep.
He needed to clean up and return before she woke up.
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
The queen jolted awake as cold water splashed over her. As she raised her head, she found herself face to face with a young man, causing her to emit a voiceless scream.
Though her hands were bound, her legs were free. She tried to crawl away, but her tattered prisoner's outfit collar was seized, preventing her escape.
"Hey, hey, is it polite to run away without even looking at a person's face?"
He pulled the queen back to her original position and let go. While her face didn't meet the ground due to her hands in front, the sudden motion caused a sharp pain in her wrists.
Glancing around, she realized she was inside the prison cell where she had been placed. Despite the relief of being in a familiar location, an eerie fear gripped the queen in the presence of the person in the cell with her.
He had a slender frame and lacked any imposing physique. Yet, merely being close to him sent a shiver down her spine.
Utilizing spatial magic, the person conjured something from it. A teapot...?
With somewhat graceful yet intentionally affected movements, he carefully poured the teapot's contents into a tea cup. The fragrant aroma of tea wafted through the air.
Since her confinement, the queen had received no meals and very little water, making her slightly thirsty. Involuntarily swallowing, she realized her own embarrassment as her face turned red.
"Here, please enjoy."
The person placed a generously sized teacup on the floor. The tea had a rich hue, and steam rose from it.
It seemed a bit too concentrated, probably not very enjoyable. As she reached for it, her hair was grabbed, and her body was forced into an uncomfortable position.
Her face neared the teacup, feeling the warmth of the steam.
"What are you doing? Come on, drink it."
When she attempted to reach out, her hand was stepped on.
"Ah, it hurts! Stop it, move your foot!"
Despite her pleas, the foot on her hand remained unmoved. No matter how hard she tried—grabbing, hitting, or using her other hand—nothing affected that stubborn foot. Instead, her hair was yanked upward.
"Who said you could use your hands?"
Staring into the nearby gray eyes, the voice was not drawn out but low and growling.
"Hii, ah, aah..."
"Don't cry over something like this. I haven't done 'anything' yet."
She couldn't believe her ears. 'Anything' yet?
After a moment of thought, her face was forcefully returned to the teacup.
Steam rose from the cup, clearly filled with recently poured hot water.
"You gave Lucienne tea too, right?"
Startled by those words, she looked up to see the cold gaze of the gray eyes looking down at her.
"Did you hear it from that girl or something?"
The other party remained silent.
That girl again... always that girl again.
The woman more beautiful than herself, who had stolen the king's heart.
"That girl has a bad habit of saying things that aren't true. Do you really think I would do something so cruel?"
Suppressing the emotions welling up inside her chest, she shed tears to appear pitiful. However, the person's eyes remained unchanged.
No, they seemed even colder as they gazed at the queen.
"Too bad, that doesn't work on me. Besides, I didn't hear it from Lucienne. I saw everything from the ceiling that time."
Did he see that? From up in the ceiling?
Had he witnessed her tormenting that girl?
"Come on, hurry up and drink."
Once again, the face approached the cup, and the nose lightly touched the contents.
"Ahh, it's hot!"
Despite struggling and wriggling, the head couldn't move at all.
Even so, in the midst of the struggle, the nose separated from the liquid, stinging as it met the air.
Instinctively, the free hand covered the face, but it didn't alleviate the pain.
The person in front spoke.
"Why are you making a fuss? You made Lucienne do the same thing, right? Don't let a five-year-old Lucienne do something that an adult like you can't."
Force was applied to the back of the head.
Once again, the tea cup approached.
I thought it would cool down over time, but for some reason, there was no sign of the liquid inside this tea cup cooling.
Desperately tensing the neck to resist, the head was pulled up.
"Well, if you don't want to drink."
The words were nodded repeatedly.
This time, the grabbed hair was pulled down, the face turned upwards, and the mouth opened.
Something intruded there.
"Well, then, I have no choice but to feed you myself."
The arm trying to grab couldn't move. The shackles on the arms were terribly heavy.
The person bent down, picked up the teacup, and tilted the contents toward the top of something tube-like in the mouth.
The hot liquid flowed into the mouth.
"Ah! Ahh!"
It's more than just hot; it's downright painful. Tremors course through my body from the searing pain in my mouth.
Wanting desperately to spit it out, the tube-like contraption makes it impossible. Tilted upward, the scalding liquid keeps flowing into my throat, inducing a choking sensation. Even attempts to cough prove futile. I can feel the burning liquid hurting my mouth and making its way down my throat, maintaining its heat as it reaches my stomach.
"Come on, there's more left."
Relentlessly, the hot liquid continues its pour. It's scorching, painful, and tormenting.
Despite this, the person seems to revel in it as they casually ask, "Is it delicious? I secretly brought it from the kitchen, using good tea leaves."
Though they sound cheerful, their tone remains indifferent. After being forced to consume all the contents of the teacup, the tube is pulled from my mouth, and my hands are finally freed.
Even inhaling through my mouth hurts. The inside of my mouth is blistered from the burns, and any attempt to speak sends a sharp pain through my throat.
Painful, painful, painful, painful, ouch!
Why must I endure such suffering!?
It's not my fault; I have nothing to do with that!
That woman who deceived the king and bore a child with amber eyes is to blame!
Yes, that girl must be skilled at deceiving men!
Suddenly, a strong impact hits my back.
I fall face-first onto the ground.
"Hey, I feel like something is amiss. Could it be that you've misunderstood something?"
The person kicks the fallen queen in the back.
"This, you know, I'm doing it because I want to. Understand? It's not because Lucienne asked me; I, on my own, want to hurt you all."
Repeated kicks to the back, and the pain elicits moans.
"This is also something you did to Lucienne, right? Well, you guys always enjoyed violently tormenting Lucienne, didn't you?"
Due to the repeated kicks, my back throbs with pain.
Overwhelmed by pain, something in my stomach rises to my mouth, and I vomit.
"Ah, you've vomited again. Isn't it a bit too soon?" A bored-sounding voice echoes.
Despite that, the nausea doesn't subside, and she continues retching until her stomach is emptied. It's her first time experiencing the act of vomiting. A sour smell fills the air.
"Well, whatever. I still have three more to play with, and I promised not to break you, after all."
As the person chants, water falls from above once again with a splash. Then, at their feet, a part of the floor births soil. It moves and engulfs what was just expelled, making it disappear into the earth.
"It can't be helped; otherwise, it'll leave a smell."
With another forceful kick to the back, consciousness fades away and vanishes.
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
Lefebvre glanced down at the unconscious queen.
Ironically, those who inflict violence on others are often more susceptible to receiving it. Compared to the torment Lucienne endured over the past five years, what just happened was still relatively mild.
Leaving her collapsed on the floor, Lefebvre exited the cell, locked it again, and saw the king and the side consort in the adjacent cells shivering and staring at him.
...Don't be so scared over something like this.
"Rest assured, I have no interest in you two. I just want to play with the one who tormented Lucienne," he declared.
Interestingly, they seemed visibly relieved. The side consort spoke up for the first time.
"Lu... Lucienne, you mentioned the child we saw during the day, right...?"
Lefebvre nodded.
"That's right. The child born from the king's affair with a maid, hidden in the harem and abused by the queen for five years. But with eyes more beautiful than the king's – amber eyes."
Aside from the amber eyes, Lucienne didn't resemble the king at all. Presumably, she took after her mother, which added an extra layer of irony that made him chuckle.
"To think... that such a child existed. If only I had noticed..."
She wore a pained expression, perhaps because she was a mother herself.
Lefebvre tilted his head.
"You protected her?"
"W-Well, yes. I mean, she was pitiful..."
"Hmm?"
Lefebvre peered at the queen consort through the iron bars.
"I doubt that."
"Huh?"
Denying her statement, Lefebvre made the queen consort raise her head.
"But Lucienne has more beautiful amber eyes than the second prince, and probably, she's intelligent too. Even so, did you help Lucienne? Even though she might become a hindrance to your own child?"
"Well, that's..."
"I don't know what you're trying to achieve, but it's too late. Your punishment won't change now. Besides, what about your own worries? Weren't you leaking information to another country? No matter how you look at it, it's goodbye to your head and body for treason."
The queen consort turned pale.
If only she had gracefully resigned from her position, renouncing the second prince's right to the throne and returned to her family. But greed got the better of her. Despite her seemingly helpless appearance, she secretly communicated with a neighboring country, leaking information about the weakened state of this nation. In return, they promised her a decent position even after the country fell. Unfortunately, that plan was now over.
In the first place, such a sloppy plan was bound to fail.
Even if the neighboring country invaded, there was no advantage in keeping this woman alive. It was clear she would be killed either after the country fell or during the invasion.
She was just a pawn being used by the neighboring country from the start.
"Enough of the chit-chat..."
Turning around, Lefebvre noticed the queen's children trembling.
The king and the side consort, in cells on either side of the queen, could only hear sounds and voices, but the children in the opposite cell had witnessed everything their mother had endured. The three of them uniformly recoiled in fear behind the bars.
Lefebvre narrowed his eyes as he observed them.
"Who should I choose next?"
Walking back and forth in front of the cells, Lefebvre assessed the three beyond the bars.
"I know, I'll let you choose who's next. Who do you want me to pick next?"
Peering into the cell of the first princess, Lefebvre heard a voice, shaky but determined.
"I want... I want the first prince, my brother!"
"Huh?"
The surprised voice of the first prince, betrayed by his sister, echoed. However, the first princess, her smile tense, continued.
"That boy bullied Lucienne even when we weren't around! Made her walk on broken teacups, left her standing in the snow for hours—various things!"
Lefebvre, expressing interest, remarked, "Oh, really?"
Even with Lucienne's healed foot soles, they were still marked with scars.
While Lefebvre had investigated the princesses' bullying of Lucienne to some extent, this particular revelation was news to him.
"Well then, thanks for telling me~"
As Lefebvre stepped away from the bars, the first princess sighed deeply, visibly relieved. But this was only a temporary reprieve. As long as she remained in the cell, there was no escaping the pain Lefebvre would inflict.
The first prince, turning pale, looked at Lefebvre as he approached.
"So, that means it's your turn next."
Using a key from the bunch, Lefebvre unlocked the cell door and stepped inside.
"N-no, aghhhhh!"
The first prince suddenly stood up, shouting, and charged at Lefebvre. However, Lefebvre effortlessly sidestepped the attack, seized the back of the first prince's collar, and threw him back into the cell.
"Gueh..."
The first prince made a croaking sound as his body floated and slammed against the back wall. Whether from the impact or to endure the pain, he curled up and let out a small groan.
Lefebvre closed the cell door and locked it from the inside with a clattering sound.
The first prince, startled by the sound of the locking door, looked up.
"You can't escape with something like that."
Lefebvre said with an amused tone.
The prince glared, his face turning red. "If I could use magic, I'd—"
He growled out his words, and Lefebvre burst into laughter.
"Pff, aha! Ahahaha!!"
"What's so funny!?" The prince snapped.
Lefebvre burst into laughter after a long while.
"If only you could use magic?"
The prince seemed genuinely convinced that he could defeat Lefebvre if only he could use magic. However, the idea was absurd. No matter how much magical power one had, a prince limited to basic spells wouldn't stand a chance against a seasoned assassin like Lefebvre.
"Do I really look that weak to you?"
Lefebvre let go of his abdomen and slowly raised his face.
Suddenly, sweat started pouring from the prince's body.
Their gazes, entangled with Lefebvre's gray eyes, were mesmerizing. Though just being stared at, the prince's body trembled, and his legs gave way.
"Huh...? What...?"
The sound of water echoed in the quiet space.
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
The man's words made his throat emit a "Glurp" sound. A chilling sensation spread within his abdomen, making it difficult to breathe.
He realized his intimate area was damp with a warm liquid as the man continued to jeer. Embarrassment flushed his face, and he stared in disbelief.
Suddenly, his body felt lighter.
The man mocked, "Isn't it embarrassing for His Highness the Prince to wet himself?" His words added to his embarrassment. However, the man muttered something, conjuring a teacup with the same pattern as before. Dropping it at his feet, he shattered the delicate cup with ease.
After stepping on it once, he broke it further, then approached and forcibly removed his shoes.
Could it be...?
"Would you walk on this?" he said, tilting his head. The idea of walking on sharp shards was terrifying!
"No... I refuse!"
Attempting to retreat backward, the wall blocked his way. Sidestepping only resulted in the man grabbing the back of his neck.
He made the prince stand, as if lifting luggage.
"Let go! Stop this!"
He reached back, but his hands couldn't reach. He dragged the prince, scraping along the shards.
"Come on, hurry up."
Even standing near the shards, he couldn't bring himself to step forward.
Seeing his hesitation, the man sighed, "If you can't walk, I'll help you."
With a push to his back, he involuntarily took a step forward.
A crisp sound echoed beneath his feet, swiftly followed by a sharp pain on the soles.
"Ouch, it hurts, it hurts...!"
Despite hastily moving away from the shards, there remained a sharp pain and an unsettling sensation on the soles.
As he attempted to sit down, the man lifted him under the arm, forcefully pushing him back onto the shards. This time, there was a distinct sound of breaking, and a clear sensation of shards piercing his soles.
"Ahhhhh!?"
Unable to stand, he fell forward.
He banged his knees and palms against the floor, but that wasn't the main concern now.
In a hurry, he turned to lie on his back and, upon inspecting the soles of his feet, noticed several white shards from the teacup embedded in them.
Tears welled up, blurring his vision. His feet hurt. However, attempting to remove the shards only intensified the pain, making it impossible to extract them.
Tears and nasal fluid wouldn't cease.
"Ugh, it hurts, it hurts...!"
Curling up, holding his legs, he saw the man stepping over the shards, approaching.
"Looks painful, huh?"
The man bent down, peering into his face.
"Lucienne must have suffered a lot too."
Those words choked his throat.
Only now did he truly comprehend the severity of his actions.
...It hurt so much.
Come to think of it, she cried too.
Crying, yet gritting her teeth.
He and his sisters laughed while watching that.
...Shouldn't have done such a thing.
Tears streamed down uncontrollably, regret overwhelming him.
"Well, I'm kind, so I'll help you."
The man grabbed one of his legs.
Before he could react, the other hand extended to the sole, plucking out one of the embedded shards without hesitation.
"Ahhh!?"
His body tensed in response to the intense pain.
However, the man paid no attention to his condition and continued extracting shards one after another.
Warm liquid soaked from the groin to the buttocks.
Embarrassment wasn't even a thought; he could only scream in pain.
The man tossed the shards behind him.
"Oh, this might leave a mark," the man muttered something.
A cool breeze passed, and then, the previously painful leg was now enveloped in a cold, rigid sensation.
Surprised, he found his leg frozen from the knee down.
"This way, it won't hurt anymore, right? I'm so kind. Oh, but with it frozen like this, you might get frostbite," the man said while chanting something.
Question marks filled his mind.
"Frostbite...?"
It was an unfamiliar term.
Seemingly realizing this, the man looked at him with a bewildered expression.
"Don't know? Frostbite is when your body freezes. If you leave it be, it turns black, blisters up, and eventually, that part dies, becoming useless."
"I know a guy who lost his toes to it. Apparently, it hurts like hell," the man chuckled.
...Losing toes...?
Instinctively, he looked at his own feet.
The pain on the soles was gone, replaced by the gradual transition of the icy cold turning into discomfort.
If the man's words were true, he needed to do something about the ice, or his foot might be ruined.
He reached out both hands toward the ice and grabbed it.
"Ah!?"
His hands stuck to the ice.
"I forgot to mention, dry ice sticks to your skin if you touch it directly," the man said, standing up.
A sharp impact reverberated through his arm.
*Snap*, and his hand came off the ice.
The delayed separation brought intense pain to the now-freed hand.
"Here's the other one!"
"Wait, I—"
Another shock hit the still-attached hand, and the peeled palm echoed the same excruciating pain.
Both palms were now soaked in blood.
White, thin substances adhered to the ice at his feet.
The moment his mind grasped what it was, water rained down from above.
As the water touched his hand, an unbearable pain shot up his arm, rendering him voiceless.
"Agh!"
With one hand immobilized, the man's foot pressed down on the other.
Direct agony flooded into his head.
"Hmm, I guess that's enough for today."
Leaning over, the man peered into his face while keeping the hand pinned.
Then, he lifted his foot.
Shaking, the man swayed left and right, then moved unsteadily toward the cell door.
...Is it finally over?
Raising his head, his gaze met the man's.
"We'll continue this tomorrow, okay?"
Those words sent shivers through his body.
Whether from the cold, the pain, or the fear—or perhaps a mix of all three—he trembled uncontrollably.
He no longer understood anything.
One thing was clear, though: he had committed a terrible mistake.
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
Ignoring the fallen first prince, Lefebvre left the cell.
After securely locking the door, he turned his gaze to the side.
... Only two more to go.
Despite the late hour, the first and second princesses in the neighboring cells were already awake, trembling uncontrollably.
The king and the queen in the opposite cell covered their ears in fear.
The sounds and sights of someone else's suffering are truly terrifying. The fear of when that suffering might befall oneself can be mentally exhausting.
The second princess was already in tears.
Ah, I've got a good idea.
Approaching the cell, he opened the door and pulled out the second princess. Though she resisted a bit, it was futile. Holding her arm, he opened the cell of the first princess.
He tossed her in without delay.
Then, he quickly locked the door.
"I'd love to play with each of you individually, but I'm running out of time tonight."
The second princess, who had gotten up, and the first princess, who remained seated, saw a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Observing their reactions, Lefebvre narrowed his eyes.
"So, I'll let you choose again."
The first princess spoke up.
"If you're going to do it, do it to my sister!"
Without hesitation, the second princess looked at her sister.
Her large eyes widened.
"Bi... big sister..."
Reaching out, the second princess was pushed away and shoved by the first princess.
"Shut up! Always mimicking me, but you're never of any use! At least be useful for once in situations like this!"
With that, the first princess struck down her pushed sister with a clenched fist.
The second princess, shielding her head with both hands, cowered against the wall in response to her sister's sudden violence.
"Sis, please stop! It hurts!"
However, the first princess shouted, "Shut up!" and continued to unleash violence on the second princess, hitting, slapping, and kicking her, as if releasing pent-up frustration.
Lefebvre, hidden beneath the cloth wrapped around his neck, grinned slyly as he watched the scene unfold.
While he had mentioned letting them choose the order, he hadn't specified it would only be one of them. Yet, the first princess insisted the second princess should "replace her."
In extreme situations, humans tend to think in ways that suit their convenience. Even if it's wrong, their minds generate reasons to believe it's correct, blindly trusting those justifications. Despite evidence to the contrary, they choose to ignore it.
As the second princess cried and called out to her sister, the first princess's violence escalated, perhaps an attempt to temporarily alleviate her own fear. It was likely an instinctive response.
However, the second princess didn't remain passive and weeping forever. Despite crying and screaming, when she realized her sister wouldn't stop the violence, the second princess glared defiantly.
She grabbed the hand that swung down at her. When pushed away, she seized her sister's leg and pulled.
"Kyaa!"
The first princess, pulled off balance, fell backward, landing on her buttocks.
The second princess leaped at her.
"I won't forgive you!"
The second princess grabbed her sister's hair, using her other hand to claw at her face, leaving red marks on the first princess's pale cheeks.
"Ouch! What are you doing?"
Slapped by her sister, the first princess retaliated by digging her nails into the face of her sibling, who refused to release her hair.
However, the younger sister persisted, pulling with all her might.
The sound of hair being forcefully torn echoed – snap, snap.
"Ugh, nooo!"
"Agh!"
The first princess screamed as she kicked her sister. The blow landed right in her stomach, causing the second princess to grab her sister's hair while using her free hand to cover her mouth, retching.
She retched, expelling something from her stomach, but it seemed empty as only stomach acid came out. The vomit ended up on her sister's clothes.
"Eww, disgusting!"
The first princess tried to pull her sister away, but the second princess gripped her hair tightly, coughing painfully from the unfamiliar vomiting.
Lefebvre merely watched the ugly scene of the sisters without any intention of intervening. He was curious to see how far these violent sisters would go.
Despite the kicks from the first princess, the second princess continued to retch and soil her sister's clothes.
"Heh, serves you right..."
In a hoarse voice, the second princess called out to her sister, her eyes and voice filled with anger.
The first princess, now red-faced and trembling, retaliated by assaulting her sister in the same manner. They wrestled like two unruly men in a brawl, punching, kicking, pulling, slapping, scratching, rolling around in the cell without restraint.
The second princess even bit into her sister's arm.
Lefebvre, who had once disdained Lucienne as a dog, now found the irony amusing. He sneered at the spectacle.
Due to their grappling and rolling, both princesses were covered in vomit, emanating a terrible odor.
On the other side of the cell, the king, who had been watching his daughters through Lefebvre, could be heard vomiting.
The foul smell of the second princess's vomit permeated the underground cell.
"...I need to visit the guild soon."
Lefebvre, lacking a home, had a dedicated room in the building where the Dark Guild operated. Though he rarely used it except for sleep or a quick change, it did provide a place to freshen up and change out of his now odorous clothes before returning to Lucienne.
"...I'm getting bored of this."
Lefebvre reached through the bars, pointing his index finger at the first princess, and murmured an incantation for a basic spell.
He conjured a small fireball at his fingertip and launched it towards the first princess. The fireball hit the hem of her clothes, scorching it.
"Eek!"
"Scream!"
The second princess quickly backed away, and the first princess, panicking, tried to pat out the flames on her clothes.
However, every time she extinguished the fire, Lefebvre threw another small fireball, causing burns on the first princess's hand.
Seeing the princess's hand turning red, Lefebvre stopped throwing fireballs.
Apparently feeling the pain, tears welled up in the first princess's eyes.
"It's about time to go back."
Lefebvre stretched his arms overhead, yawning.
Although the first and second princesses remained confined in the same cell, Lefebvre made no move to return them.
Being together in the cell must be unpleasant for them since they had betrayed each other. Moreover, Lefebvre had no desire to touch the princesses covered in vomit.
"Well then, see you again tomorrow."
Leaving the princesses sitting in shock, Lefebvre departed from the underground cell.
For three days, Lefebvre had the freedom to do as he pleased. Even if he inflicted harm, healers would arrive in the morning to apply healing magic. However, he had to ensure they remained sane. Healing magic couldn't restore sanity to someone who had gone mad; it could only mend physical wounds. Therefore, for the remaining two days, Lefebvre had to be cautious not to push them over the edge.
"...I'm better at breaking things, though."
However, if I break everything, there won't be a target for the public's anger. In that case, the wrath might turn towards Lucienne, the surviving member of the royal family.
To avoid that, I need the royals to stay sane.
"Well, can't be helped. I'll go a bit lighter tomorrow."
Exiting the underground cell, Lefebvre found his way outside the castle through a random window. He jumped from one tree to another until he reached the wall separating the castle from the town.
Muttering an incantation, he used wind magic to lift himself from below, running up the side of the wall.
Floating, he landed on top of the wall.
No one seemed to have noticed his presence.
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
Then, for an additional two days, the queen and her children endured Lefebvre's "hobbies."
The next morning, a healer would come to treat their wounds.
While not as intense as the first day, Lefebvre mimicked some of the abuses Lucienne had suffered, though he still held back somewhat to maintain their sanity.
On the fourth day of their captivity, the king, queen, and their children—the first princess, the first prince, the second princess, along with the side consort and the second prince—were each placed in a separate cage and transported outside the castle.
Guards and a few healers took turns watching over the cages as they were moved to a square in the lower town.
Many citizens had already gathered there, some holding sticks and similar objects.
A messenger unfolded a paper and announced the new king's ascension, reciting the deeds of the former king and his family.
"...With this, His Majesty the new king declares the showing of the people's anger before punishing the former king and the old royal family!"
In essence, it was an announcement that the people were allowed to do as they pleased with the royal family.
The news of the coup had spread widely through the capital that day, thanks to careful manipulation of information. Most citizens were aware of it.
Especially those who harbored dissatisfaction and anger toward the royal family had gathered in the square.
The cages were magically lowered from the carriage, and seven were set up in the square.
The guards and healers stepped back.
The queen and her children, unable to sleep well for the past three nights due to Lefebvre's nightly visits to the underground cell, had dark circles under their eyes.
However, their bodies showed no signs of abnormality.
Moreover, they were dressed in the same clothes they wore when captured during the coup.
To the onlookers, the royal family seemed healthy, clad in luxurious attire, appearing somewhat arrogant.
The king, in particular, looked a bit overweight, possibly irking the impoverished citizens who viewed him as detestable.
Even though Lefebvre had crudely cut the hair of the two princesses, they still radiated a beautiful luster, leaving the crowd to wonder.
The crowd slowly approached the cages.
However, no one dared to take the first step. It was as if they couldn't muster the courage to move forward.
The crowd exchanged glances, anticipating who would be the first to act.
Then, a young man stepped forward from the crowd.
"My father died because of you royals! Executed just because he couldn't pay taxes! That's just wrong!"
"You demon!" The young man thrust the stick he held into the cage.
The end of the stick struck the king's shoulder forcefully.
The king couldn't even defend himself against the sudden attack.
Anger and hatred filled the eyes of the crowd as they watched the young man's actions, dispelling the previous hesitation in the air.
"That's right! We became poor because of these people!"
"My husband worked himself to illness just to pay taxes!"
"My daughter couldn't afford medicine and died!"
The crowd shouted angrily at the cages.
The young man turned around.
"These royals were living luxuriously in the castle while we struggled to survive! Look at them, their well-groomed hair! There are even rumors they used the country's money for personal luxuries!"
The crowd's eyes widened at the young man's words.
"What!?"
"They used the money we struggled to pay for their extravagance!"
The outcry spread rapidly, and the entire square erupted with clamor, filled with shouts of anger and condemnation.
Realizing that these accusations were directed at them, the royals trembled in their respective cages. However, the cages were surrounded by iron bars on all sides, leaving them with no place to hide.
It didn't take long for the enraged crowd to rush toward the cages.
Some reached inside and pulled the royals' hair.
Others extended their hands with sharp nails.
Some struck the cages with sticks.
One person thrust a stick into the cage, mercilessly jabbing at the royals inside.
In the midst of the seven cages, a significant crowd gathered, especially under the one holding the king and queen.
Conversely, younger individuals clustered around the cages of the prince and princesses. Despite the separation by bars, they pulled those inside back and forth, slamming them against the bars, scratching, and clawing at them.
As a result, both the prince and princesses quickly found their hair tangled, and scratches adorned their cheeks and arms. The clothes they wore were torn and tattered.
However, despite witnessing their pitiful state, no one made an effort to stop the chaos.
Hands reached in from all sides of the cages, sticks were thrust in, creating a terrifying experience for the royals.
The less assertive side consort began crying and screaming early on.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
Still, the queen consort and the second prince were relatively spared since fewer people gathered around their cage.
The king and queen, on the other hand, were pulled so much that most of their clothes were torn apart, leaving them in little more than their underwear.
When even their underwear was grabbed, the queen resisted, resulting in even more damage.
Being exposed in their undergarments in front of the crowd was an unbearable humiliation and shame for the former noblewoman who was once a high-ranking aristocrat. As the tearing decreased, the hands of the crowd mercilessly began to injure their exposed skin.
Red scratch marks multiplied on their once-white and beautiful skin.
Once everyone was covered in wounds, the soldiers and healers, who had been observing quietly, exchanged glances and nodded.
"That's enough!!!"
The soldier's voice, resonating through the air, made the crowd turn around.
Although initially overwhelmed by the sharp gazes of the soldiers, they continued speaking.
"These individuals must be kept alive until their execution!! Therefore, healers will now perform healing magic on them!!"
A ripple of uneasy tension spread through the air at these words.
"However, this is an 'act to prevent death,' and we will not concern ourselves with what happens after the healing!!"
The soldiers' words left the crowd exchanging uncertain glances.
"What does that mean?"
"Well, you see..."
"After the healing, we can do whatever we want."
"Oh, I see. Well, that's fine!"
"If they can get healed, there's no need to worry about dying!"
The murmuring crowd moved slightly away from the cages, creating gaps.
Several healers entered those gaps, chanting spells to cast healing magic on those inside the cages.
Bodies covered in wounds rapidly returned to their original state.
The queen, queen consort, and princesses hurriedly covered themselves, but no one among the crowd harbored any desire for them.
Cold stares from the crowd pierced through them.
"That concludes the healing."
The healers stepped away from the cages.
In a moment of desperation, the king reached out and grabbed the hem of a nearby healer's robe.
"W-Wait! I am the king! Get me out of this cage quickly! Help me!"
The king, spitting as he shouted, was looked down upon by the healer.
"No, you are no longer a king. This country already has a new king, and you are nothing but a foolish former king who plunged the nation into chaos and poverty for personal gain. And now, you are just a criminal... the one who drove my sister to her death, detestable criminal."
The healer brushed off the hand of the former king, who clutched at the healer's robe.
"Sister...? What are you talking about?"
The king's words made the healer snort.
"That's right, for you, she might have been 'just that kind of person.' ...She had a fiancé, but because of you, forcefully taking advantage of her, she had no choice but to break off the engagement, and unable to bear the pain, she took her own life."
"You wouldn't know who I'm talking about, right?" the healer said.
For the king, using his power to claim any woman he desired was just a matter of course. He even considered it a favor to the women to be chosen by a king like himself.
Certainly, he had embraced a woman once or twice, only to abandon her afterward. Such women usually disappeared without a trace. Consequently, he never gave it much thought.
"Feel the suffering, just as my sister did."
The healer, looking down, shared the same determined glint in their eyes as the rest of the crowd.
As the healer stepped away from the cage, the crowd closed in as if they had been waiting for this moment.
He hadn't realized the extent of resentment harbored against him.
His close aides, the prime minister, all brought beautiful women, one after another. Whenever he uttered, "I want that woman," she would inevitably appear. There were even instances when he summoned women by royal decree.
But no one dared to oppose him.
He believed he could do anything simply because he was the king.
However, the realization was sinking in.
That others, too, possess emotions.
That without his royal status, he was just an ordinary person.
The repercussions of his unrestrained lifestyle were now laid bare.
The man who was once a king sat there in shock, surrounded by many accusing hands.
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
Perched on the roof of a house overlooking the square, a young man observed the unfolding scene.
The silhouette of the young man on the rooftop flickered, undergoing a visible transformation.
His brown hair danced in the wind, and his sharp, ash-gray eyes narrowed.
"Hmm, things are shaping up nicely."
Seated on the rooftop, he shielded his eyes to survey the surroundings.
Beneath the concealing fabric, Lefebvre's lips curled upward.
The first to raise their voice and thrust a stick into the king's cage was none other than Lefebvre.
He had skillfully disguised himself using magic.
...It's often the case that when one person takes the initiative, others follow suit.
Hence, Lefebvre played the role of the instigator.
As an assassin, he was no stranger to adopting disguises to approach his targets.
On occasions, blending seamlessly into the environment during a hasty escape.
The art of disguise and deception was as much a forte as his skills in assassination.
Resting his chin on his hand, he observed the scene below.
While the fate of the king, the queen, and the second prince held little interest for him, there was a certain satisfaction in witnessing the queen and her children subjected to the wrath of the crowd.
The shift from oppressor to oppressed was an intriguing spectacle.
He pondered on the emotions running through their minds. Undoubtedly, it was a nadir of emotions.
...Perhaps this experience would grant him some understanding of Lucienne's sentiments?
If not, it mattered little.
After all, the fate of all seven individuals was sealed—execution awaited them.
They could meet their end in a state of terror, and that might somewhat assuage the anger of the populace.
As long as the collective rage spared Lucienne, the sole surviving royal, it suited his purposes.
And then, for all the suffering inflicted by the queens—or perhaps, even more so—he would lavish attention on Lucienne, nurturing possession from indulgence and affection.
For a while, Lucienne wouldn't engage with people or venture outside.
However, let's clarify the execution of the royal family.
...We must assure everyone that no one will harm Lucienne anymore.
Even if Lefebvre remains silent, word will eventually reach her.
Therefore, there's no need to conceal the information unnecessarily.
Above all, the royal palace still bears the scars of the coup, and Lucienne, now an adopted daughter, has yet to move to the castle, opting to stay at the Fayette residence.
Even if the royal palace is restored, she is unlikely to move until she feels more settled.
Given her lack of fond memories of the royal palace, she may be averse to it.
The Fayette residence has increased security personnel and is vigilantly guarded. Despite only a few days passing since the coup, the atmosphere inside the residence is quiet.
After the coup, Lefebvre immersed himself in the Fayette residence, always by Lucienne's side.
Although he occasionally returns to the guild room, having been formally employed by the Fayette family, he also has a room in the servants' quarters designated as an attendant. For now, he hasn't used that room.
Lefebvre can sleep anywhere and function on short periods of rest.
Perhaps due to moving to a safe place, Lucienne, both physically and mentally exhausted, fell ill.
As a result, she slept for almost the entire day.
Occasionally waking up, she quickly fell back asleep after eating or taking medicine.
Lefebvre spent his time watching over her sleeping figure.
During this time, he managed to get sufficient sleep.
As Lucienne was resting, the room remained unused.
He would gently stroke her head, change her clothes if she sweated, and occasionally wake her up for meals or medicine.
Taking care of Lucienne was enjoyable for Lefebvre. When she woke up and found him by her side, she would smile happily, a sight he found quite pleasing.
...Well, it's time to return.
The commotion among the people won't end so easily.
Fortunately, the Fayette residence is away from this square.
Lucienne, lying down with a fever, won't be disturbed by the turmoil.
That's why Lefebvre confidently incited the crowd.
As Lefebvre stood up and left, the crowd continued to press against the cages containing the royal family, caught up in the fervor.
＊ ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊
In the following seven days, the cages stood in the square.
People took turns approaching, releasing their pent-up frustration on those inside.
Knowing that healers would treat the injuries, the people's actions were unrestrained.
While most of the royal family became docile by the final day, the queen resisted until the end.
After seven days, the cages were returned to the royal castle, and the former royal family members were individually judged.
The king and queen, along with the queen consort, received a sentence of public execution.
The princes and princesses were sentenced to a non-public execution.
Thus, the princes and princesses were promptly executed.
Two days later, the former king and queen, along with the side queen, were publicly beheaded in the square where the cages had been placed.
However, the queen resisted until the end, hurling vulgar insults and curses at the new king, Bernard-Loa Fayette, who was there as a witness.
It goes without saying that the crowd threw stones at the queen, who showed no signs of remorse.
Until the moment her head fell, the queen remained true to herself.
The bodies of the royal family were collected and buried in the royal family's tomb, but no one came to offer flowers for them.
Afterward, news of the change in the king due to the coup spread widely among the people.
The new king was the former Marquis Fayette.
He had thrown away his personal wealth even during the king's tyranny, helping the commoners. Unable to endure the king's actions any longer, he led the coup.
The king, who had become a tyrant, and the queen, along with their children, who indulged in luxury without caring about the poverty-stricken people, were captured during the coup.
At that time, a young princess was discovered.
The princess's name was Lucienne La Vérie.
Some nobles who participated in the coup wished for the execution of the princess, but due to her pitiful life, enduring abuse from the queen and her children for five years since birth, she was spared.
Thus, under the rule of the new king, namely, as the adopted daughter of the Fayette Marquis family, she was welcomed.
The other members of the royal family, after being captured, were each placed in cages and left in the square below the castle for about seven days.
During that time, the royal family members must have experienced the people's anger firsthand.
It made sense to have healers proficient in healing magic by their side.
Afterward, the king, queen, and queen consort were publicly executed.
The king and queen consort, confronted with the people's anger, pleaded for mercy in the end. Despite their pleas, the populace, who had endured years of oppression, remained unforgiving. The queen, it is said, resisted until the last moment.
The princes and princesses faced a non-public execution.
In the end, all members of the royal family, except Princess Lucienne, were sentenced and executed.
TLNOTE: Translating this chapter is surely taking forever, sorry for the delay
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