There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game-Chapter 763 - 650: The Wind Rises and the Clouds Gather_2

Chapter 763: Chapter 650: The Wind Rises and the Clouds Gather_2

He locked himself in the study, ignoring the Queen Consort’s worries and not wanting to deal with anything. In a daze, he felt as if he himself was going mad.

The sun already began to set in the west.

Suddenly, the Queen Consort’s delicate voice came from outside the door, “Simon, Princess Teresa has come to see you. She says she has urgent matters to discuss about His Majesty. Will you come out to see her?”

Teresa?

Matters regarding His Majesty?

The latter term snapped Simon’s mind into clarity. His expression fluctuated, but he eventually got up and opened the door of the study.

He saw the Queen Consort’s face, filled with fear and worry.

He must look terrible right now.

Simon forced a smile, “Don’t worry about me. Where is Teresa?”

After he said this, he realized how hoarse his throat was, as if it was on fire.

The Queen Consort whispered, “Princess Teresa is in the collection room looking at the paintings. Why don’t you change your clothes before you go?”

“Alright…”

…

Simon of the Varo Royal Family did not have a passion for politics; apart from archery and horse racing, he loved collecting various art pieces, turning his collection room into a gallery renowned throughout the Royal Capital.

Princess Teresa paced in front of a painting, dressed in a neat riding outfit, her demeanor calm, her brilliant emerald eyes reflecting the artwork.

When she heard footsteps approaching from behind, Princess Teresa didn’t turn her head but smiled, “Brother Simon, this painting is indeed the most beautiful one in the collection room. I haven’t managed to own such an art piece.”

Anxious Simon looked at the painting and saw it was a “Preaching Clergy Picture,” which depicted a White-robed Bishop delivering a sermon, with countless Believers gathered below.

This was also the only Holy Court painting Simon had collected.

Suddenly, he seemed to guess why Teresa might have come here.

His throat felt even drier now.

The water he drank before coming here might as well have been none.

Simon swallowed and ventured to ask, “Teresa, what is it that you wish to speak with me about?”

Teresa turned to face him; the young girl’s features were radiant, exuding a bold and brilliant beauty, and the light of the collection room made her golden curls exceptionally lustrous.

Simon had never been close to this sister of his.

Their King father was infamous for his indulgence, leaving behind more offspring than any previous king, as if worried the succession to the throne would not be exciting enough.

And this sister had been sent to a farm estate in the Royal Capital due to her frail health as a child, not returning until her coming-of-age ceremony.

However, even though they both lived in Constantinople, they seldom crossed paths.

Therefore, Simon hardly knew Teresa at all—nor her appearance nor her character.

“Brother Simon, the council chamber is in an uproar,” Teresa remarked casually as she observed the paintings in the collection room, as though they were merely engaging in casual conversation.

Simon grew even more tense, “What’s happening in the council chamber… what’s the matter?”

Teresa smiled, “I heard our father suddenly fell seriously ill last night, and there was no time to summon you. Unexpectedly, he fell into a state this morning from which he couldn’t rise. So, he called you to his bedside, saying he wanted to pass the throne to you.”

Simon thought of the King’s vigorous demeanor and responded stiffly, “I see, the news has spread already…”

“Brother Simon, do you know how many people have their eyes on father’s position?” Teresa added.

“I know…” Simon looked somewhat surprised.

“Apart from a few brothers eyeing the throne, it seems Duke William also has some different ideas… By the way, what do you think of my title?” Teresa added as she suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question.

“What title?” Simon was taken aback.

“I am the nineteenth princess, and curiously, our father is Wald XVIII.” Teresa turned to look at him, smiling with mirth.

“…” Simon was startled.

It was not a tradition in the Varo Royal Family for women to be barred from ascending to the throne; in fact, history had seen several empresses. Thus, when Teresa uttered these words, he understood her intentions.

Still, Simon was somewhat bewildered.

Before Teresa spoke, he had assumed that this sister, who had never lived in the palace as a child, was aligned with the Holy Court.

But now, had he misunderstood?

“Brother Simon, do you also desire the throne?” Teresa suddenly moved closer, her emerald eyes staring straight into his, their color sharpened by the overhead light.

Simon was taken aback, “No, no, no! I have no interest in the throne whatsoever!”

Teresa, hearing this, smiled brightly, “I knew it. Brother Simon has always been indifferent to politics, only running off to auctions, busy with his own art collection.”

Simon gave a dry laugh.

“By the way, I really like this painting. Could you give it to me?” Teresa’s subject changed abruptly again.

“Ah… Sure.”

Simon was so startled by her insinuation-laden dialogue that his heart was in turmoil. Now, with her pointing to a brightly colored landscape painting, how could he dare refuse?

He had no intention of getting involved in the struggle for the throne.

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The historical records alone were enough to send chills down his spine; he knew all too well that there was no such thing as family ties in the face of royal power.

Moreover, Simon knew the succession talk was altogether false.

The real crisis was the Holy Court!

Teresa’s visit seemed only to test whether Simon harbored any intentions of taking the throne. After casually taking a painting, she didn’t say much else and left quite abruptly.

With his heart in his throat, Simon watched her leave.