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It was raining heavily.

The weather seemed fitting for the judgment of sinners, so much so that it couldn’t be thought of as anything else.

I stood in front of the palace, looking from the front of the crowded crowd at my sister and Calix Hamel, who were kneeling before the Crown Prince.

“Your Highness.”

Florencia’s voice calling the Crown Prince was small and lacked strength, which did not suit her.

My sister had already given up at that point. Perhaps she had resigned even before. Maybe she didn’t know.

The Crown Prince sneered, mocking them.

“You used to mock justice so much, and now you look amusing in this situation.”

The villain lowered her head. Beside her, the kneeling Calix, or rather the Duke, seemed to be spitting curses at the Crown Prince.

Father sighed, and Beatrice Rosen spoke with a relieved expression as if talking to the Emperor.

Then, the silent Castiel, who seemed as expressionless as usual, followed. Taylor was already imprisoned in Alcatraz.

Everything flowed exactly as in the original.

A self-deprecating laughter mixed with a sense of guilt faintly echoed, out of place in the situation.

As always, I shifted the attention by coughing a few times.

Those who knew that my performance was fake responded with laughter. Whatever. Supporting characters were all like that.

Oddly enough, such reactions brought me a peculiar relief.

If I wasn’t even considered a target of caution, then I had indeed succeeded in ‘surviving.’

Beatrice’s trembling voice reached me as she spoke to the Duke, who had once loved her.

“You failed. Stop now. You are…”

It was somewhat touching.

That’s how I evaluated it. The expression of the virtuous heroine was truly innocent, making it seem absurd as she appeared to be trying to save Calix.

I watched the characters, contrasting the hazy original and the present, and marveled at how well they were created. They behaved almost the same as in my memories.

A laughter mixed with a sense of self-loathing, out of place in the situation, faintly trickled down.

As always, I turned attention away by coughing a few times.

Those who knew that my performance was false responded with laughter. Whatever. Supporting characters were all like that.

Oddly enough, such reactions brought me a peculiar relief.

If I wasn’t even considered a target of caution, then I had indeed succeeded in ‘surviving.’

Beatrice’s trembling voice reached me as she spoke to the Duke, who had once loved her.

“You failed. Stop now. You are…”

It was somewhat touching.

That’s how I evaluated it. The expression of the virtuous heroine was truly innocent, making it seem absurd as she appeared to be trying to save Calix.

I watched the characters, contrasting the hazy original and the present, and marveled at how well they were created. They behaved almost the same as in my memories.

One person, however, was an exception.

When Calix turned to look at me, lifting his distinctive black eyes wide, I sighed.

He soon began to giggle for some reason. Then, he chewed on something before uttering it.

“There was no prophet after all.”

Roughly, that was the content.

I responded with a cynical expression, shrugging my shoulders once.

Time passed. The Emperor, who had been observing the situation seated, stood up to deliver the judgment, and right before his lips parted, Florencia murmured.

“What an amazing ending.”

The reaction was immediate.

Everyone started to mock Florencia’s audacity. Except for Calix and Beatrice, almost everyone ridiculed her without leaving any of her sins unmentioned.

Embezzling taxes arbitrarily in her territory, threatening and insulting Beatrice, planning murder, engaging in illegal criminal organizations, and even conspiring against the imperial family…

“…Boring.”

I mumbled while looking at the nobles criticizing her behind their fans.

“And finally.”

The Emperor spoke.

“Daring to poison the Crown Prince’s wine. You’ve sent quite a few assassins. This is clear rebellion. Yes, I once thought of you as Damon’s partner.”

He added slowly, regretting it. I bit my lip.

‘I didn’t do it, really. Believe me! I…! Well, yes…’

I remember her on the day of the arrest. My sister, even if she had given up somewhere in between, never admitted her guilt. Definitely.

Was that just a simple act of defiance?

“It’s ending.”

The Emperor said. Florencia seemed to be trying to say something to the Crown Prince standing beside him before his lips moved.

The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes at her, then changed his expression and smiled brightly, as always, charmingly as he did to Beatrice.

…If someone said that gaze was directed at my sister, not the protagonist, would anyone believe it?

Looking at them closely again, Florencia Eilish was still smiling with a somewhat vacant expression.

The only difference was that when Beatrice showed her ‘mercy,’ she spat out saliva defiantly. Yes, Florencia was truly arrogant. I stopped reminiscing.

* * *

Somewhere around the climax, Beatrice spoke. Florencia is a fearless woman, but burning her alive right away is not an easy task.

So, she’ll end up becoming the same person, won’t she? Maybe forcing the choice of the guillotine was too harsh just because of fear. Like that.

‘So, I’ll give her a chance. If she apologizes and swears a lifetime of repentance under the tears of the goddess, I can’t help but show tolerance as a fellow believer. So, while she’s contemplating, I hope no harm comes to the Eilish estate.’

In other words, she was telling her to be stuck in the convent and never come out again.

“All the terrible things done to me, I hope to forget. If you live as a believer in front of a truly merciful god, I believe you’ll understand forgiveness and compassion. That’s what I think.”

I tried to interpret the noble language with the keyword “soda” as faithfully as possible, even roughly.

“I forbid any mention of the tragic things that happened to Lady Rosen and the heinous deeds I suffered. Florencia’s wickedness is evident, so any attempt to distort it will be considered deceiving the imperial family…”

“…Indeed.”

Shut up and comply. Of course, my sister was not innocent of wrongdoing.

I contemplated the sense of discomfort I felt, then raised my head. Minor sins were probably okay.

The problem was the reason for execution and the method.

The Crown Prince’s injury was really nothing to make a fuss about.

Moreover, poisoning.

In a world where only poisons mixed with arsenic, aside from little-known natural poisons, were manufactured, if the color of Florencia’s execution robe had changed, indicating a deviation from the original plan, a thorough investigation should have taken place immediately.

However, since no such information was disclosed, it was perhaps natural for suspicions to arise.

“Above all…”

Yes, the execution. That clearly had emotional aspects.

“Originally, I won’t even consider reflecting my opinion.”

From the imperial palace, it was announced that they would delay Florencia’s execution date under the pretext of accepting Beatrice’s opinion verbatim and providing the villain with an opportunity for reflection.

In the original, this was a gap time, considered as a rest period to allow Beatrice and the Crown Prince to have a cozy time together.

The empire praised her mercy, and I conveyed this information to the inmates within the prison.

Upon hearing the news, my sister smiled very nonchalantly and asked.

“So, you postponed her death just one day later than the Duke’s? Is the story of the villain in prison like a side story of a comedy? The empire’s stories are still as dull as ever. Boring.”

And.

“Well, it wouldn’t be bad if there were a side story with a twist.”

I muttered. It was a consolation to the villain who had shown kindness only to me.

* * *

“Mel, my dear sister.”

“Why?”

“Next time, bring the medicine I take when my back hurts.”

“No, that expensive one…”

Wait, now that I think about it, was there such medicine? Come to think of it, I didn’t even know if there were blood pressure medications in this era.

“Really neglected, I am.”

I muttered briefly and asked in a muffled voice.

“But do I have to bring it? Hyzen would take care of that for you.”

“Then just go out.”

“Oh, I can just bring it.”

At the previous visit, Florencia showed no emotional fluctuations regarding the news of her execution date. Well, considering the level of her face, which had already lost its vitality due to torture and humiliation, it was quite remarkable.

At least her blue eyes, although faintly dull, were not completely lifeless yet. Well, it was something.

Of course, that didn’t make the situation hopeful.

Florencia Eilish, who was clearly deteriorating, still had not had her execution date changed.

I thought that if Beatrice Rosen was truly a merciful person, there was no reason not to postpone my sister’s execution for a few more weeks after seeing her lifeless body.

Honestly, it seemed so.

The imperial decree declared the postponement of the execution date, citing the opportunity for the villain to reflect and show remorse based on Beatrice’s opinion.

The reinforcement of imperial authority was undoubtedly the political reason behind it.

“If it’s necessary for the strengthening of imperial power, I have nothing to say, but…” I whispered.

“However, it was a bit unexpected. I didn’t think of it as a mere event.”

* * *

A few days after the decree was issued, I had to face my father, with whom I had not even spoken privately.

And as expected, he shouted abruptly as soon as our eyes met.

“You dare to trouble your father so much? How dare the two women of the family disrespect the lineage together?!”

His voice was filled with anger, and it seemed like he wanted to demonstrate that he was indeed expressing his anger.

However, it was pitiful to see him panting heavily, unable to break anything owned by the royal family, even though he was trying to show his anger in some way.

I chuckled and leaned against the head of the bed.

Verbal abuse without resorting to violence is just comical. It lacks impact.

“So it turns out like this.”

“Margaret Colin Eilish!”

A middle-aged man with silver or white hair, who seemed to be in his forties or fifties, glared at me with eyes that resembled my sister’s night-sky colored eyes, filled with madness.

“Poor thing, you grew up so fragile and became an arrogant child just like my sister!”

“Well, it seems you’re very upset because things aren’t going the way you and the other woman thought.”

My voice was small, but the shouting stopped immediately.

It probably had to be that way. I briefly enjoyed the fact that my words had such a significant influence on him.

Instead of persuading me, the Crown Prince had commanded the Marquis.

As a father, convince Margaret to yield. If not, he would accuse him of being an accomplice in rebellion and demand the penalty from Marquis himself.

That’s what I heard, at least. It’s funny. The situation now was not much different from when Beatrice crushed Florencia’s opinion and postponed the execution with Marquis’s approval.