Chapter 111: [Chapter 111] Our Enemy
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Doris Castagna lay awake in a dark, opulent bedroom. She had declined all requests for audiences from both the western nobility and the Crown Prince's faction since dawn.
In the silent, ornate room, Doris lit a single candle and examined the Empire Daily that someone had brought in at dawn.
[The Saint of Ronta, His Highness Crown Prince Bardenaldo, has passed away]
[Once again, Her Highness the Crown Princess has fainted in shock]
As she read the headline that adorned the front page of the newspaper, Doris eventually burned the entire page in a small, weak candle flame.
Through the small flames that instantly devoured the yellow paper, the events of yesterday flickered like a mirage.
****
"Adrienne, bring Adrienne! Adrienne..."
"..."
A flawless, white marble-like face. The Crown Prince Bardenaldo, stained with unnatural red blood, possessed a beauty so wicked that it was almost a pity to keep it to himself.
"Doris. Doris, bring Adrienne! Not you! Adrienne!"
The Crown Prince's eyes were bloodshot, and he looked as if the world would collapse if he lost sight of the woman who had just left.
Doris stared at him for a long time.
"Can't you hear me? You're not a ghost, are you? It's Adrienne Pirata, right? Bring her! Bring her before my eyes!"
Bardenaldo, his body shaking violently, coughed up a large clot of blood. He frantically searched for a handkerchief, but no one handed him one.
"Why are you looking for someone who's dead?"
"She's not dead! Damn it! Adrienne Pirata is not dead! Cough! Hack!"
Doris's eyebrows, which had been coldly lowered, twisted more and more as Bardenaldo's coughing grew harsher.
"...She's not dead?"
"She's not dead! She's dead, but she's come back to life, damn it! If she's a ghost, then it can't be. Bring that woman!"
"You're crazy."
Doris scornfully laughed at the nonsense mixed with the coughing.
"She's not dead.".
"Doris, Doris, you stupid bitch!"
"Because you kept asking for that woman so much that day. I killed her a long time ago."
"Cough! Cough! Cough!"
"How could you not die? I was told everything, as if I saw every breath you took as you crossed over to the underworld."
"Cough, cough, hack!"
One step, and another.
Doris, who smiled like a beautiful but lifeless flower, finally moved when Bardenaldo began to claw at his chest.
"'Adrienne is mine.' I heard you say that in your sleep that day."
Doris, who had momentarily reminisced about the past, smiled as if she were stepping onto a frozen lake.
"Julius Ronta. Noevian Ronta. Bardenaldo Ronta... Roardnes Ronta."
Doris slowly walked and sat on the edge of the bed.
"The men of the Ronta royal family are all going mad, chasing after the ghosts of the dead. Julius Ronta brought in a mistress who resembled Queen Retina. And you, the Duke, and Roardnes."
"Roan..."
Seeing the prince react to the name Roardnes, Doris picked up a white pillow next to him.
"Did you think I'd be jealous because you like Adrienne Pirata?"
Doris's long fingers squeezed the wrinkle-free pillow hard.
"Someone as weak and substandard as you doesn't deserve to be by my side, Doris Castagna, who will be the empress."
"I..."
"Frankly, I liked Roardnes, not you, you fool."
Doris stretched out her slender arm and, folding her body, sat up. She pushed Bardenaldo's body back with her hand as he vomited blood.
The wound from the bandage that had been tightly wrapped burst, and blood soon gushed from his chest and mouth.
Doris thought it looked exactly like the ruby rose that Blie Acacia always wore.
"Die, Bardenaldo."
"No... cough... no, don't..."
"When you die, Roardnes will become the emperor."
Bardenaldo's eyes widened in response to the words about Roardnes becoming emperor, rather than the words telling him to die.
His face contorted like a child who had been deprived of candy, but only for a moment.
Doris covered Bardenaldo's face with the white pillow she was holding and pressed down hard.
"Cough. Hack. Hack!"
A sound like a large bathtub, with dirty impurities clumped together, preventing the water from draining properly, came from a human mouth.
"You will be the unfortunate crown prince who died at the hands of your uncle..."
"Cough, cough!"
"And I will be the only wife of Roardnes, who will become the new emperor."
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"History will record us so differently," I said.
A gurgling sound of blood and breath filled the air as he struggled for his last breaths. Then, his body, which had thrashed violently and spewed blood, ceased to move, as if sinking beneath the bed.
Crash!
The sky, which had been overcast all afternoon, suddenly unleashed a torrential downpour and thunder instead of the early evening moonlight.
****
Instead of the fainted Crown Princess, Empress Grace and Roardnes took charge of the funeral.
Despite the sudden news of the Crown Prince's death, the nobility, including those from the capital, had rushed to the palace overnight and attended the funeral held in front of the Crown Prince's palace. However, the funeral was surprisingly simple and quiet for a Crown Prince.
Quite unusually, the Crown Prince's body was not placed in a glass coffin, and it was announced that the funeral would end that day.
Considering that he was the Crown Prince, this was a very radical decision.
Traditionally, direct royal family members and their spouses were given a 100-day funeral. However, this privilege was only for those royal family members who had won the competition for the throne.
Those who had lost were unable to have such a funeral. It was considered a 'privilege'.
Displaying the bodies of those who had died glorious deaths on the battlefield or those who had lived nobly and died peacefully was a matter of pride for the Ronta royal family.
Therefore, the body of Crown Prince Bardenaldo, who had been killed by his uncle, was a pitiful sight that could not be displayed. It was not a glorious death.
Although his son had asked to be given a honorable send-off, Emperor Julius accepted the Empress's proposal because he could not bear to see his son's body, who had been killed by his uncle, for 100 days.
I quietly stared at Roardnes, who was standing still.
He stood with the Emperor and Empress in front of the large coffin of the Crown Prince.
When our eyes met, I couldn't bear to look at his eyes, which tried to force a smile but failed.
We had kissed passionately in the midst of the terrible downpour, clinging to each other as if we were going to devour each other. But we were startled by the screams coming from the Crown Prince's palace.
Or rather, after Neil came to find Roardnes and told us the news, we finally separated.
With tears or rain wetting my cheeks, Roardnes wrapped me in his cloak and we left the tunnel.
Although he was standing far away, I could see that Neil's face was flushed red, probably because he had seen us kissing passionately.
I looked away from the memories of the early morning and back at Roardnes.
His eyes, which had been filled with intense desire, were now deeply submerged, making it difficult to gauge what he was thinking.
At that moment, there was a commotion at the entrance to the ceremony.
Doris, who looked pale after a sleepless night, finally appeared, supported by Noura.
People lowered their eyes or stared at the floor to avoid giving sympathetic looks.
Doris, who looked like she was about to collapse, made eye contact with me before reaching the Crown Prince's coffin.
"!"
A threatening gleam flashed in Doris's green eyes, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
However, it was only for a moment, and I wondered if it was just an illusion.
In the space where the priest's prayer and the sound of the organ for a moment of silence echoed softly, Doris paid her respects to the Emperor and Empress as if nothing had happened and then shed tears beside Roardnes for all to see.
"There's something I've really wanted to ask you since yesterday."
"..."
As a hymn praising the gods resounded loudly, Epero, who was standing beside me with Victor, whispered to me so only I could hear.
"Was the Crown Prince your enemy?"
"..."
"No," I replied, staring at Bardenaldo's coffin.
"He was our enemy."
"..."
"How about it? Do you feel like being my friend now?"
As another song began after one ended, Epero hesitated, unsure of what to say.
"...What would I gain if I became your friend?"
"What do you want to gain?"
I sneered, trying to hide my lips so no one would see.
"Do you think we can only be friends if we gain something together?"
"..."
"True friends..."
I glanced at Doris, who was burying her face in her handkerchief and sobbing, and finished my sentence.
"...aren't they the ones who destroy their enemies together?"
Epero seemed to ponder the meaning of my words for a moment, then looked at Empress Grace, who looked exhausted.
The Empress must have been worried, as she had already seen six of her sons buried in this way.
I squeezed Epero's arm, as if to comfort him but also to bind him to me, then released it.
Startled, Epero stared at his arm that had been grabbed, then swallowed hard as if he had made up his mind.
"I don't really know what's going on yet..."
I looked straight ahead, away from him. Epero leaned closer to me and whispered behind me.
"I understand that if I become your enemy, I could be the next person in that coffin."
It was a reference to Bardenaldo, the Crown Prince who was unable to be placed in a glass coffin, even though he was a prince, and whose funeral was hastily arranged.
Ever since yesterday, Epéro seemed utterly stunned by the sudden death of the Crown Prince. It made sense; without Bardenaldo, his wish to 'remain in Ronta' could very well be realized.
Watching Epéro, unable to tear his gaze away from me, I lifted one corner of my lip in a knowing smile. As if remembering my promise to let him stay in Ronta, his face seemed to find hope in the midst of his brother's funeral.
When the Emperor, who'd complained of a headache earlier, finally left before sunset, followed by the distant relatives who'd come to pay their respects, the remaining guests also departed. Countless pairs of eyes had watched Roardnes, who stood silently before the Crown Prince's coffin, before eventually turning away.
Some hurried off to discuss the future succession, while others gossiped about various conspiracy theories surrounding the Crown Prince, already planning tea parties in their minds.
Adrien, along with Epéro and his companions, quietly left the funeral hall. Roardnes, who had been staring fixedly at the coffin, followed Adrien's retreating figure with his eyes, and when she was out of sight, he turned to his aides.
Vincenzo and Neil stood quietly by his side. The attendants, who had been watching nervously, and the priests who would spend the night praying for the Crown Prince Bardenaldo, temporarily left the hall.
The aides exchanged glances, wondering if they should leave Roardnes alone. Then one of them took a step forward.
'Vincenzo,' Roardnes called out, his voice breaking the silence for the first time during the funeral. His gaze remained fixed on some point above the coffin. 'What now?'
'Yes, Your Highness?' Vincenzo replied.
Neil, taken aback by Roardnes' sudden question, answered instead, 'Since Your Highness has passed, you no longer need me by your side.'
It was an absurd thought. Neil raised an eyebrow, wondering how to respond to his lord, who seemed to be losing his mind over his brother's death. He'd initially thought it was just a fit of rage.
'Vincenzo?' Roardnes called out again, when Vincenzo didn't respond and remained frozen in place, one foot still forward. 'I know you were my brother's eyes and ears.'
Roardnes said something that Neil had never heard before, his gaze still not meeting theirs.
"Now that the true master is dead, you're on your own."
Thud.
Vincenzo sank to his knees as if he had been struck. Roardnes' gaze finally shifted from the coffin towards the entrance of the funeral hall. They were still out of sight.
"Your Highness, Your Highness... When? When did you...?"
Neil was so stunned by this absurd situation that he could only stammer.
"...From the beginning," Roardnes' voice was low, his face pale as he turned to Vincenzo. "From the moment you volunteered to be my aide. Did you think I wouldn't know?"
Roardnes' retreating figure was as broad and strong as ever, but somehow, it seemed lonely.
Neil unconsciously reached out towards his lord, then glanced at Vincenzo, whose face was filled with despair.
He was crying.
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