QOF 05

chapter 05

“Do you really believe I did it?”

“That, I wouldn’t know. And I don’t particularly care to hear the details.”

The king made no effort to hide how deliberately he avoided paying attention to Ioret.

It had always been like that—ever since her mother took her own life.

The king had two queens.

His first queen, Leila, had been a commoner.

While inspecting the capital, the king fell in love at first sight with a beautiful common woman and pushed forward with the marriage despite opposition from his ministers.

Even afterward, as the nobles continued to resist, he went so far as to immediately name their first daughter, Catherine, as Crown Princess the following year. It was an unprecedented display of favoritism.

But then the queen died a tragic, untimely death, and the king soon felt the weight of loneliness.

He quickly took a second queen.

She was Charlotte, a princess of the Kingdom of Revia—and Ioret’s mother.

Another daughter was born from this union. As much as he favored Queen Charlotte, the king also cherished his second daughter, Ioret.

Then a scandal broke—an alleged affair between the queen and her guard knight.

Though the evidence was insufficient, the knight’s striking appearance and the queen’s attempt to defend him displeased the king.

Enraged, the king confined both the queen and his second daughter to a tower.

After the queen’s suicide, he entrusted Ioret entirely to Catherine and withdrew all interest in her.

That didn’t mean the king hated Ioret. If he had, he would have gotten rid of her long ago.

If one had to define his feelings toward his second daughter, it was discomfort.

Father knew Mother was innocent. But since she died bearing that false accusation, she must have remained like a thorn he could never remove.

In the end, Ioret was a victim of the king’s mistaken judgment.

But a proud king would never admit his own fault.

So he knowingly turned a blind eye to the unjust treatment Ioret suffered.

He openly transferred power to Catherine, as if trying to erase the existence of his second daughter entirely.

And yet, at the same time, he didn’t refuse all of Ioret’s requests—especially those tied to his dignity or the kingdom’s prestige.

Perhaps that was the last shred of conscience he retained as a father.

That made him the only person in this palace Ioret could place any hope in.

“You’ll be married off soon enough. Why would you need additional guards?”

“It’s not that I need more. I only need one guard to protect me until the wedding, Father.”

“Are you saying a princess of this kingdom doesn’t even have a personal guard?”

Only then did the king look surprised.

“Is there someone you want? I’ll assign whomever you choose. That much I can grant as a wedding gift.”

Ioret couldn’t hide her bitter smile.

As expected… he’s determined to marry me off and drive me out of the capital no matter what.

There was no need to risk anything here by insisting she didn’t want to marry. Besides, Ioret had no intention of running away.

Marriage was necessary—just not to the man currently chosen.

“I request Sir Perein, the vice-captain of the Royal Black Eagle Knights, as my guard.”

“Very well. Take him. But I will not tolerate any more trouble. Focus quietly on preparing for your wedding and ready yourself to leave the palace.”

“Yes, Father.”

Ioret bowed deeply. As she turned away, the obedient smile vanished from her face.

She left the audience chamber while hearing the sound of her father kissing his consort.

“…!”

A boy standing stiffly like a statue by the door flinched and stepped back. He was a pretty young attendant with sharp, cat-like eyes.

When Ioret stared at him, the boy lowered his head deeply. He looked about fifteen or sixteen, his youthful face flushed with embarrassment.

Red hair… and golden eyes.

Though she had never seen him this close before, Ioret recognized him immediately.

He was the only illegitimate child still remaining in the palace—one of roughly twenty born from the king’s many consorts since his youth.

The reason was simple: he couldn’t speak.

“It seems Father is enjoying his afternoon amusement, so try not to disturb him.”

The boy, lips tightly sealed, nodded.

On impulse, Ioret reached out and gently stroked his pale cheek. Though younger than her, he was taller, with a sturdy frame despite his thin build.

Feeling the warmth of her hand, the boy blinked, unsure how to react. A faint bruise peeked out from beneath his collar.

Ioret adjusted his collar to cover it, and his cheeks flushed a soft pink. A faint spark of life returned to his dull golden eyes.

In the way he didn’t know how to respond even to such a small kindness, she saw her past self.

The realization made her uneasy.

“Don’t be grateful for something like this.”

“……”

“Be wary of people who are kind to you. Before you get beaten, fight back with everything you have. Don’t pity others beyond your place, don’t help people recklessly, and don’t expect anything. The only one who can save me… is myself.”

The boy leaned slightly into her hand, blinking blankly.

Under the king’s neglect, she too must have once worn such suffocating, lonely eyes.

Ioret clenched her teeth and turned away sharply.

This is only the beginning, Father.

She had lived her entire life quietly, as if dead—yet this was already being called “trouble”? Ridiculous.

If he saw her as nothing more than a pawn, then she would place him on her own chessboard as well.

Without him even realizing it, she would wield him like a blade—until he broke in her hands.

At the hands of the very second daughter he had always treated as taboo.

Ioret stepped out into the rear garden of the main palace.

The moment her feet touched the soft grass, someone grabbed her and spun her around with force.

“Ioret.”

It was Benedict Valer—her childhood friend and former fiancé. He seemed out of breath, as if he had run to her.

Noticing the tear marks on her cheeks, he asked anxiously:

“Were you crying? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Benedict was a handsome man with neat navy-blue hair and deep gray eyes.

Though he usually gave off a flawless and intelligent impression, his eyes softened into crescent shapes whenever he looked at her.

“I was worried the count might have tried to harm you. I’m relieved you don’t seem injured.”

There wasn’t a trace of insincerity in his concern.

And that made it all the more chilling.

“The wedding will be postponed for a while. Count Castlein’s condition is worse than expected. In fact, it’s for the best. I’ve been uneasy about sending you to him—”

She didn’t need to hear any more.

Ioret cut him off.

“The wedding will proceed as planned.”

“What are you saying? You didn’t want to get married. Just last week, you said how distressed you were—”

“There’s someone I want to marry.”

“…What?”

Benedict stammered, clearly at a loss.

“There’s someone you want to marry? That’s impossible, Ioret. You barely know anyone in the palace… Unless someone approached you?”

“Is that any of your concern?”

“Ioret, I’m your friend.”

Friend.

Ioret let out a hollow laugh.

They had been engaged since before she was even born, up until their engagement was broken off when she was seventeen—yet now, he was merely a “friend.”

Even though you know how desperately I loved you.

Once, his face had been her entire world—the only world she could access from within the tower.

Days would pass without her speaking a word, but when she saw Benedict, it felt like she could finally breathe.

“I wasn’t lonely because I had you.”

“……”

“Because I had you… and my sister.”

Benedict and Catherine.

In the past, those names had been her breath, her life itself.

Now, she had returned to erase them from the world.

Ioret shook off Benedict’s hand forcefully.

“You’re not my friend—you’re my former fiancé. You no longer have the right to meddle in my affairs, and I’d appreciate it if you stepped aside, Duke.”

She had never spoken to him so coldly before.

Benedict looked genuinely flustered.

“Are you upset about the broken engagement? That wasn’t my decision. I told you, the royal council elders pressured me—I had no other choice.”

Ha!

Ioret let out a scoff.

She wanted to slap that shameless face of his.

The declining prestige of House Valer for maintaining an engagement with an abandoned princess.

Their shrinking influence in the royal council.

That was the real reason for the broken engagement.

The thought almost made her burst into laughter.

“So that’s why you entertained yourself with my sister? For your family’s reputation—with your former fiancée’s half-sister?”

“What are you—are you talking about Her Highness the Crown Princess? Ioret, what kind of misunderstanding is that?”

Benedict frowned, as if offended.

An impressive performance.

Even though she remembered so clearly the last image of him laughing while holding Catherine.

“Really? A misunderstanding?”

Just then, in the distance of the garden, Catherine’s black curls came into view as she walked briskly toward them.

She must have heard the king’s order about appointing a guard.

The moment Catherine spotted them, she came to an abrupt stop. But from Benedict’s position, facing Ioret, he couldn’t see her.

A cold glint passed through Ioret’s eyes.

“Then kiss me.”

“Right here. Right now.”