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11. A Twist in the Tale

“What did I do wrong?”

Florencia asked, her blue eyes fixed on the Crown Prince. The sheer confusion in her gaze about her alleged crimes was almost chilling.

The gathered crowd looked on in horror at the villainess kneeling before him with a mocking smile.

The Crown Prince let out a bitter laugh, his voice icy as he spoke to the woman who was once his fiancée.

“Unbelievable.”

Florencia , undeterred, asked again, insisting on knowing what she had done wrong.

In a place beyond Beatrice’s reach, the Crown Prince displayed the demeanor of a true tyrant.

Florencia gazed at this side of him and, for the first and last time, felt a pang of pity for Beatrice. The girl, now the empire’s first lady, had yet to see the man’s true nature.

“You are a traitor.”

The words, whispered in her ear, were as cold as a snake and burrowed deep into her mind. Tears welled up in her night-sky eyes.

Only now did she truly feel abandoned. Whether she was right or wrong had never mattered.

The Crown Prince, with the same gentle smile he had once shown only to Beatrice, lifted her chin.

For the first time, he directed that smile at the villainess.

Her blue eyes welled up. His golden eyes were cold, but the soft smile was beautiful.

‘…Ha.’

Had he ever smiled at her like that? Each gentle word whispered in her ear was out of character for him.

Despite the contradictory situation, Florencia couldn’t control the confusion clouding her mind.

She felt like she was going to vomit.

“You knew too much. It’s a pity.”

The Crown Prince said.

Florencia realized he was inflicting a small wound on himself, symbolically consuming a bit of poison.

She knew it was to say she had hurt him because of her unrequited love.

Poisoning was out of the question. The fact that the foolish Beatrice Rosen hadn’t been deeply shaken by his collapse proved it.

Moreover, she still loved him.

‘There’s no way it was poison.’

Florencia Eilish painfully acknowledged that all this was a charade.

Emptiness gripped her neck as she looked around one last time in the suffocating silence.

On the day her crimes were laid bare. The Grand Duke, kneeling beside her, the captured assassin, and the people who averted their eyes from her.

Her father hadn’t even attended. Except for one maid who had followed her, her family’s seats were empty.

Not a single person.

The Eilish family name had completely fallen. She saw the full extent of the consequences of her actions.

There was nothing left for her. Florencia knew she had no chance of social recovery and began laughing madly at the sight of the prison carriage that awaited her.

Execution by fire.

Fire, she mused.

Would my sister… If she were here, would she have defended me? Would she have proclaimed my innocence? Perhaps she would have stopped me from reaching this point. Would she have been different from Father?

Would I have faced this end?

“I will provide the poison. It will ease the pain.”

Florencia met the Crown Prince’s gaze, listening to his hypocrisy.

Poison, indeed.

Dying by poison in a prison cell might be better than burning alive.

Florencia looked at the somewhat relieved face of the Crown Prince and suddenly remembered the words he used to mutter, indoctrinated by his ambitious mother.

‘You must step on others to rise. Even if you become a monster. The place you sit afterward will be the pinnacle of the empire.’

“In the end, that’s what it was.”

“?”

“You achieved what you wanted. Poison, indeed…”

Florencia closed her eyes.

The Crown Prince’s mother, Veronica, was low in the ranks of concubines.

Given that his succession rank was significantly tarnished, Veronica felt immense shame about her position.

Thus, she dedicated her life to instilling the Emperor’s sense of duty and desire into the boy who looked so much like the Emperor that he was unmistakably his son.

You were born to be the Emperor.

Florencia was well aware of this. There was a time when she had tried to understand his obsessive thirst for power and his deep-seated inferiority complex.

But that time was now meaningless.

Florencia took one last look at the man, who had become much more merciful now that his desires were within reach.

Yes, you always had to get what you wanted. If that was the only way for the Crown Prince to smile, she wouldn’t deny him.

She decided to understand his ambitions as her final act of love.

So, Florencia Eilish’s answer was more relieving than the Crown Prince’s own words.

“It probably won’t hurt.”

But there’s no need for that. The villainess whispered as she was dragged to the underground prison.

When you’re ready, do as you wish.

– From the side story of *The Blue Sword Flower, Florencia * –

* * *

I couldn’t remember how I made it back home. It was to the extent that I had forgotten I used my powers in front of Calix Hamel.

Calix murmured with a hint of admiration when I brushed past him to open the door without any movement.

You can do more than I thought, huh? I couldn’t respond to his words. I just wanted to get away from him.

So, I was content when he stopped calling my name and I moved on.

Yes, no matter what, he wouldn’t hurt me. With that thought, my steps were slow and heavy, against my will.

Fortunately, the Grand Duke didn’t disappoint me by putting his hand on my shoulder or grabbing my wrist.

This helped me calm down slightly, confirming once again that he was a man created by the world’s logic.

I blinked and took a deep breath. A created character. Ink. A world that was nothing but a book.

Calix still looked relaxed. I bit my lip and softly muttered.

“Come by soon.”

He replied with some nonsense about looking forward to it, then whispered playfully.

“Sweet dreams.”

He laughed. I ignored him with a dry cough.

I walked in that state until Taylor greeted me with blood all over him in front of my house.

* * *

“Mel.”

Taylor jumped down as soon as he saw me, gasping for breath. His white hair was matted with dried blood.

I couldn’t help but let out a deflated laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

It’s no surprise that a family on the brink of ruin is officially prohibited from owning private soldiers.

The problem was that the crimes of nobles were safe as long as they weren’t caught.

My father was no exception, so the mansion couldn’t have been left completely unguarded.

 

Therefore, the fact that the garden was so quiet meant that Sir Heizen had taken care of things to some extent.

Despite the assassin’s disheveled appearance, I concluded that there was no immediate danger and asked nonchalantly.

“What’s going on?”

My voice sounded almost cheerful.

It was easier to deal with someone who behaved predictably, so it wasn’t hard to ignore the slight guilt that came with exploiting him.

Given how futile his sincerity was, it was easy enough.

Taylor approached me with a displeased expression.

“Don’t go inside.”

“It’s my house.”

“It’s better for your mental health.”

His earnest voice stood out sharply in the quiet night air. I tilted my head playfully.

“Why?”

“…You know why.”

Taylor handed me a dagger, its red gemstone glinting ominously in the moonlight, a double-edged blade with Glacies’s emblem etched into it. The weapon’s cold gleam was unsettling, even without any blood on it.

I alternated my gaze between him and the dagger, then agreed with his opinion in a voice tinged with fatigue.

“Yeah, it’s probably better to stay with you.”

“Mel.”

“Just stay with me, okay?”

Before he could say more, I grabbed his hand. The contact felt detached.

The sight of the evident signs of murder made my stomach churn, but I pushed myself to calm down as I headed up to my room.

The maids didn’t move. Judging by the unlit window in my father’s room, no one was awake.

I furrowed my brow at the predictable situation.

“Let’s just go back.”

“No.”

I took a deep breath and opened the door. Figures lay sprawled beneath the open window and billowing curtains.

The room, aired out, carried the remnants of a stench instead of the smell of blood.

“I asked if you knew.”

I laughed.

“Of course I knew. How could I not?”

Taylor remained silent. I opened a box in the corner, placed the wig inside, and hummed a tune.

A song from outside the novel. Then, as usual, I returned to the bed, hugging my knees and bowing my head.

Taylor stared at me for a long time with a puzzled look before averting his gaze. He sat on the bed, looking exhausted and pitiful.

“You’re… difficult.”

“Am I?”

“I came because I thought it would be a lie if I said I wasn’t going to leave.”

“Really.”

My response was apathetic. And then, I had to shut my mouth at the expression on his face.

His red eyes lacked any spark, and he looked more tired than I did. He looked just like he always had, but more so.

Specifically, just before a seizure.

The lines from the novel flashed before my eyes. Taylor Knight is given drugs.

Although he didn’t show side effects, it was clear he took stronger drugs than Calix Hamel.

I furrowed my brow as Taylor sighed and pointed to the desk. Each movement seemed laborious, and I listened to him with a hint of sympathy.

“I came to deliver a request. Then… I saw a request to kill you.”

“It’s better if you don’t say anything.”

“I know. You probably already know who.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

Of course, it was obvious. I knew the protagonists of the original story wanted to erase the remnants of the villain.

“Yes, it’s obvious.”

I gently stroked his hand. The faint tremors were palpable.

“So… I killed him.”

“….”

“The guild doesn’t take bribes. Unless you go yourself and request protection. That idiot stepfather thought you would and expected to make a lot of money.”

Taylor muttered a few curses under his breath, too quietly for me to hear, then continued.

“He covets your business rights. Given that he approached the Grand Duke, it’s clear he’s lost his mind.”

His voice, crackling with a scratching sound, rambled incoherently.

“He wanted to take money from both sides. I don’t know how many times he overdosed on drugs…”

He stopped and made a choking sound. It was easy to tell he was suppressing nausea.

“He told me not to interfere until you arrived.”

Taylor gripped his hair, his breathing ragged.

I shook my head and draped a now blood-stained cloth over him.

I couldn’t tell if it was the right choice, but I had nothing else to cover him with.

Taylor gritted his teeth.

“My so-called father loves to test who’s more loyal to him.”

It was true. I expressed my condolences for his miserable family situation and waited for him to speak.

Taylor confessed in a hopelessly low tone.

“But I killed him. There was no need to. They probably would’ve kept you alive for negotiations.”

He fell silent. His subsequent words hinted at how the guild members might have treated me, a thought that made me furrow my brow.

Taylor couldn’t look me in the eye. He could only mutter, writhing in guilt.