Chapter 14: 14

[T/N: This chap has different povs ]

“That’s all.”

Kastiel finished his words dryly and Taylor gritted his teeth.

Ending, that is, ending. He retraced the series of explanations Kastiel had given until that moment. It seemed almost certain that what Margaret called the end was the execution of Calix, the beheading of Florencia, and the betrothal of the crown prince and Beatrice, and Taylor understood this almost perfectly.

That’s what she thinks is the ‘end’.

Taylor chewed it out. Clumsy.

His voice lowered in proportion to his anxiety.

“If that’s over, what will happen to Mel?”

“Rather, even if I ask her it seems she won’t say anything at all, will she?”

“How funny of you that you couldn’t even ask a simple question.”

Continuing a bloody war of words in their way, only then did they discover the things they had forgotten about one by one.

Things like the attitude of the woman and the people around her, whom he thought were simply cynical.

Looking back, Margaret always acted as if she had no place of her own. Not because she’s particularly pessimistic, but as if she simply has nothing to do.

She talked about Beatrice whenever she had a chance, but she never talked about her situation or how she felt. A conversation from a few days ago flashed through his mind.

‘Why do you talk about Beatrice so much?’

‘Aren’t you curious?’

‘…not at all.’

‘I thought you’d be curious.’

‘Would you like me to be curious?’

‘I just knew it was going to happen.’

“No way.”

Ah, was it like that?

Taylor realized that several questions he had had so far could be solved at once with a single assumption.

For instance, yes. Things like an inexplicable interest in Beatrice.

And a series of situations in which the people around her subtly changed and became hostile toward the crown prince. Perhaps even the ‘accidental fatal blow’ he suffered was the result of being included in that ‘family’.

As Taylor grew up in a slum and became an executive in a criminal organization, he always had a good idea of general information about most people, especially people of high status or fame.

Therefore, he also knew very well how devotedly the knight in front of him poured out his love for Beatrice.

Come to think of it, it doesn’t make sense that such a man would personally visit the prisoner he had put in to talk about Mel.


Apart from Kastiel’s “personal love story,” it was enough to be misunderstood as a betrayal to the prince.

Oh, was he similar?

Taylor remembered that he hadn’t thought about Beatrice since he was imprisoned in Alcatraz.

Even when asked about the outside situation, Taylor began to question Margaret, who had only delivered news of Beatrice.

Margaret looked puzzled but moved on. The conversation was cut off, but Taylor preferred the silence.

‘I should have asked you to tell me your story.’

If so, what kind of story would Margaret have told him? Taylor recalled the information of the nobles that the guild had gathered.

No information about her could be called particularly special. Except pretending to be sick and coughing to pretend.

Oh, and did it say that she cares about Florencia?

The Most Important Guest in Glacies

The villain who was being treated like that said that she had done everything she could. Even when she went to prison, she was arrogantly proud.

When he said that, Margaret muttered in a dull voice.

‘My sister no longer loves the crown prince. At least that’s how it looks to me.’

Why did I just realize it now?

Everything had already revolved around Beatrice and the crown prince. Amazingly, what they called fate was helping them.

Taylor laughed at this unrealistic situation and his bloody eyes lit up. His mood was low.

All the situations were flowing like elaborate weaving to create a ‘story’.

All those who were disturbed by their future, the ‘center’ of everything, were sorted out in perfect order. The Grand Duke, him too. And the knight in front of him.

Like the situation in a novel with a fixed ending. Taylor suddenly thought that he was a fake.

He closed his eyes. He wanted to believe it was an absurd idea.

If this damn situation were to be compared to a play, Margaret Eilish would be both a supporting actor and an audience member.

She had never been proactive except for now when she started confronting Beatrice for the sake of her sister.

Taylor thought vaguely that he might belong to that category as well, but cursed words lingered in his mouth.

The exit of such roles in the play goes unnoticed.

“Where would you go if you were to go back?”

At the innocently straightforward question, Kastiel brushed his face with an annoyed gesture. Even the gesture on his face was imbued with nervousness.

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Grand Duke Calix will be executed along with the wicked woman. Taylor was abandoned, and Kestiel swore with his mouth that he would do everything in his power to keep Beatrice safe.

In other words, their end has already been decided.

But what about Mel?

“It won’t be in the empire anyway.”

Silence crawled up his ankles and filled the room. Taylor chewed on those words in silence.

It won’t be in the empire. Then he’ll never…

‘That’s not allowed.’

The red eyes were completely out of focus. It was also a lie to say that it was not because of anyone. In general, his hazy mind was clearer today.

Taylor let his emotions dictate his course of action, and began to scrape together what was left of this castle and draw up a blueprint for a ‘plan’.

Dear Mel, she never told him a single lie about herself. Aside from this one.

But this one time was so important. Suddenly, the sound of grinding teeth echoed in the closed stone chamber.

Taylor grabbed the white sheet.

Why did he stay quietly here? Kastiel stood up and stared calmly at Taylor’s eerie muttering. To be precise, his eyes were bright red in a heterogeneous way.

Feelings that were sticky with obsession and possessiveness were swirling. It was a desperate and obvious love. Because obsession is the twin of love.

“I’ll give you one piece of advice.”

Kastiel clenched his fists. The contradictions and hypocrisy of the people he loved and respected were driving him into confusion.

He thought he was caught up in the situation, standing in the middle of nowhere, neither a supporting role nor a villain.

What is Margaret to him? What about Beatrice? No, the question was wrong. What was he to Beatrice? What were the main characters like?

In hindsight, there was no answer.

Kestiel recalled the woman who relied on him without any doubt.

She was once a woman he loved.

‘Please watch over Margaret.’

It was natural. As if it was natural to devote himself, he was desperate but asked for it leisurely.

He couldn’t even laugh. Kestiel advised.

“Your sins better not have anything to do with Margaret, whatever that is.”

A knight who once swore allegiance will not betray his lord. Those were the first words Kestiel Relord uttered when he had an aspiration for swordsmanship. He was a man who was disrespected in the world for being rude, but at least he was infinitely noble as a knight in the relationship between the ruler and the subject.

“The medicines Young Lady told me to deliver to you will be delivered to you later by your handler. It won’t be good if you’re noticed, you’ll know that much.”

To serve one’s chosen Lord wholeheartedly. To become a knight who sacrifices his life to save the people he wants to protect. The countless promises that had been made pierced his ears.

Kastiel shuddered at the feeling of being denied the goal he had been holding on to for so long. Maybe that too…

‘Because the ending is still here.’

Kastiel recalled what Margaret had said and took a deep breath. Asking himself what he knew.

He was convinced that the talented person in front of him was more likely to change the ‘ending’ that Margaret said than he was.

If everything revolves around Beatrice and the crown prince, is there anything else other than the ‘villain’ that can damage the main character?

Kastiel advised in a cold tone.

“The fault of the prison break must lie in Alcatraz itself.”

***

Calix Hamel was an inmate on the first floor of the Sinaloa prison.

The large camp, consisting of two main and three floors across the ground and underground, had different incarceration targets for each floor, including Alcatraz, and had its reasons for locking the aristocrats underground instead of simple felons.

Instead of living in a relatively spacious and decent living space, it is to prevent escape in advance.

Kestiel’s opinion was that intelligent people should reduce contact with outside forces.

It was not wrong. In fact, in other prisons, there were many cases where aristocrats who had made friends with criminals caused problems after being released with their help, and there were also cases of escape attempts using illegally trained soldiers.

Therefore, on the surface of Sinalore, only commoner or republican prisoners occupied shared rooms. There was one meeting room and one resting room on each floor.

Prison facilities, which do not carry out special correctional activities, are fairly simple.

The annex was equipped with a dining room, laundry, and a shower room for communal living, but this also had no special corner.

The only workhouse on the street, which took a considerable amount of time on foot, was a unique facility.

The structure of Sinalore Prison that Calix grasped was roughly this.

The floor where the aristocrats were imprisoned consisted of solitary cells, but since each cell had a guard, it seemed far off to escape at once.

As a bonus, since there were countless iron fences, Calix decided to give up the reckless challenge. Calix lazily turned his head. The sound of several guards talking in front of his cell rang in his eardrums.

“Sir Heizen seems to be waiting today too, right?”

“You’re so persistent. At this point, I’m not sure if you’re going to run away with that evil woman.”

The former grand duke was politically savvy. It was not difficult for Calix Hamel to read that the people around Maharet and her sister were only attracting attention.

He clicked his tongue.

 

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