Married To The Enemy Kingdom's Illegitimate Prince-Chapter 88 — How Ironic

The once green, colourful trees of Erion had turned yellow and red. Some lay on the ground, while others still hung onto the branches despite the occotional wind blowing them, causing them to tremble.

Outside of the mansion, Cynthia was seated, observing the garden which was nearly dead now. In her past life, she had put a lot of effort into keeping it alive— rather, creating a greenhouse that could preserve her once favourite flowers— roses. However, now, she had no interest in gardening, not in a land she wished to destroy for ruining her life.

She then shifted her gaze, staring at the clear brun liquid in her tea cup. It was bitter. Even the sweet cake beside the cup tasted bitter.

Is it perhaps poisoned?

Cynthia thought, only to scoff inwardly. She would have preferred it if it were poisoned. At least, poison could be cured. But no antidote could fix what she was feeling at the moment.

"Your Highness..." Anni who was standing beside the grand duchess finally said, breaking the silence.

The silver-haired young woman glanced at the young girl whose hands were fidgeting, making her nervousness evident to Cynthia.

"What is it?" She demanded, her voice unusually cold.

"I know I don’t have the right to meddle... however..." The brown-haired young girl barely managed to speak, for fear of angering the grand duchess. She didn’t want to see her wrath as its possibility terrorized her. She had merely heard the grand duchess yell just a few nights prior and she didn’t want Cynthia’s anger to be directed toward her.

"If you know you shouldn’t, then don’t meddle," Cynthia coldly interrupted her, closing her eyes as she tilted her head to the back against the chair. She simply wanted some peace however, was there anything but peace in this vaste building?

Anni nodded, her lips quivering. The Cold War that had been going on between the grand duke and the grand duchess was unbearable for her. She did expect such to happen when she first heard of the grand duke’s marriage with the evil princess of Eldoria; however, when she watched Cynthia try her best to make this marriage work, she was relieved. She believed Grand Duke Lucian would eventually return her efforts; yet, that didn’t happen.

"Don’t look at me like that."

"L-Like what, Your Highness?"

"With eyes filled with pity. It irks me, even if it’s you."

"I-I apologize..." The maid lowered her head, gazing at the ground.

"It’s not just you. Everything here," Cynthia paused, catching the words in her mouth, stopping herself from speaking further.

Everything here irks me. I hope those demons destroy this place after I’m done with my revenge.

Cynthia thought, clenching her fist.

"Yes?" Anni, who waited for the grand duchess to continue speaking, tilted her head to the back. freёwebnoѵel.com

"It’s nothing. I want to be alone. Don’t follow me. Come only if I call and don’t let anyone disturb me," Having said so, Cynthia stood up from the chair, walking around from the garden, a thin cloth wrapped around her body to protect her from the cold breeze of autumn.

Once she reached her bedroom, she locked the door, ensuring no one could enter without her permission. Although the servants respected her privacy, she didn’t fully trust any of them.

She walked over to her desk and opened the drawer, fumbling through it until she found the violet pendant Arlot had given her. As she gently stroked it, a flickering violet light appeared before her. From the light, Arlot emerged and promptly bowed, greeting her.

"It has been a while, Your Highness. I’ve been waiting for you to summon me. I know you prefer I visit you only when called so I stayed away..."

"Aren’t you being a bit talkative today, Arlot?" Cynthia said, sitting on the couch and crossing her legs.

"I—I apologize. It’s just that it’s been so long since you called for me... And," he paused, struggling to voice his concern. As days passed and she no logner called for him, he began to wonder if she might have discarded him like she had others in the past.

"Enough of that. I met another shapeshifter."

At her words, Arlot flinched, his eyes widening. It had been a long time since he had heard of anyone from his kind. He had barely managed to avoid the executions the king had ordered the royal knights to carry out. Had it not been for Cynthia, he would be dead by now.

"Take a seat first," Cynthia commanded, noticing the young man tense up. He must be doubting her words. Everyone had begun to believe shapeshifters no longer existed—even the shapeshifters themselves, as their existence faded from memory over generations. Even today, if one were discovered, they would be brutally murdered, leaving no trace behind for anyone to know they had ever existed.

Hesitantly, Arlot obeyed her order, lowering his head softly. He was unsure what expression he had on his face, but he knew it mustn’t be a pleasant one– one he would want Cynthia to see.

"Arlot, have I ever told you about my plans? Why did I make you do all those things?"

The white-haired man shook his head.

No matter how many times he asked, she always avoided answering him.

"I will explain it to you one day. However, you must wait for the right time. But you can always stop if you don’t wish to continue," she would reply whenever he persisted with her, despite his usual calm demeanor.

"Have you finally decided to trust me?" Arlot smiled faintly, although the lingering joy was evident from his shining sky-blue eyes.

He had been waiting for her to open up to him. He only knew how to be patient with her after his countless inquiries until he finally stopped. It seemed his silence over the past five years had finally paid off. He will get an explanation for her abrupt harsh and vile behaviors at times, while at other times she seemed to be the most innocent woman there could be on earth.

"I do trust you. I wouldn’t have entrusted all that work to you if I didn’t," Cynthia immediately replied, as if she didn’t want him to even think about that possibility.

"So... What exactly is your plan, Your Highness?"

"I have not discussed it with anyone yet. I will need you to come with me," Cynthia calmly replied. She didn’t want to disclose her plan just yet. Even if Arlot has been loyal to her for five years, she didn’t know if he would even believe her if she were to tell him she had returned from the dead and went ten years back. No matter how much she thought about it, it was absurd to her as well but she had to come to terms with it as that was her reality. Those visions— were not and couldn’t have been mere nightmares. Not after witnessing most of its events in her life.

"Where and when shall we go?"

"Right now," Cynthia stood up from the couch, slowly approaching Arlot who kept his gaze locked in hers.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She demanded, lowering her head slightly, leveling her eyes with his.

"How am I looking at you?" Arlot nervously asked, forcing a smile on his face.

"With eyes filled with distrust."

Hearing her, Arlot promptly shook his head, panicked.

"I-It’s not that, Your Highness! I simply..."

"Arlot, you can leave anytime. I’ve told you so many times."

"I refuse, your Highness," the man sighed, lowering his gaze. "And it isn’t distrust, Your Highness. I trust you more than I would ever trust anyone in this world."

Hearing Arlot’s words, Cynthia scoffed. This man trusted her more than anything, while her husband doubted her for every single action she took.

How ironic!

"Alright. Then, let’s go and meet that man once the marketplace is repaired and the commoners have calmed down."

Arlot nodded.

"Also, I have looked into the matters you told me to. It seems like for now, the magic stones cannot be touched by anyone yet. Do you want them for yourself? I can gather a few other mages and break the seal—"

"No," Cynthia sternly replied, her gaze intensifying as if he had said something he shouldn’t have. "Don’t you dare do anything without me asking Arlot. Or the way I have saved you, I must remove you if you become a hindrance in my path."

Arlot looked at her, without showing any emotion.

Ah, there she goes. Acting like the most heartless woman there could on earth who would kill anyone if they were a thorn in her path. But what is the path she always talked about?

Arlot couldn’t help but wonder. She never told him anything about it.

"Arlot," Cynthia said softly, noticing him spacing out, and gently placed a hand on his head. "You know that, among them all, I trust you the most, right? Don’t betray me."

Arlot clenched his jaw and nodded. He knew she didn’t truly trust him. But, like her other subordinates, he chose to ignore it and nodded in agreement, as if her words had convinced him. His loyalty wasn’t something to be questioned—he knew that well enough. He was willing to die and kill if needed for her. He had done it multiple times in the past few decades.

"I won’t ever," the white-haired man closed his eyes as if he were surrendering to her.

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