Chapter 142
It truly had been a perfect plan. If everything had gone as intended, all of Arendtert’s misfortunes felt as if they could be wiped clean in one stroke.
But Grizelle betrayed his expectations in the most pathetic way. She failed to kill Sylaria. Because of that, everything veered completely off course.
Had Cressida not stepped in to clean up the mess, Arendtert would have been killed on the spot by Euclid. Even if he was the Crown Prince, Euclid might not have been allowed to kill his own brother, but a punishment equal to death would surely have awaited him.
For the disaster she caused, the only ending Grizelle deserved was death. Yet the punishment handed down to her had been far too lenient for Arendtert’s liking. So he secretly sent Lionel.
Once the stones thrown at Grizelle left small cuts on her skin, Lionel was to throw a stone laced with deadly poison. The poison would seep in through the wound, and she would die in a moment of excruciating pain.
And in this way, Grizelle’s life ended on the very first day of her punishment.
The moment Lionel reported this.
Arendtert felt overwhelming liberation. His loathsome shackle had finally been broken. Now he could take a new fiancée. A new Purifier. He could begin again. The thought alone thrilled him.
“Heh. I’ll give you your reward for today later. You may go.”
After laughing himself breathless, Arendtert dismissed Lionel and went to his bedroom. Wrapped in the comfort he had not felt for a long time, he lay down on the bed.
Who would make a good next fiancée.
His popularity was not what it once had been, but even so, he was still the Second Prince. Who would turn down a prince who personally chose them as his partner. Far from refusing, young ladies would cling to him and beg for the honor.
Arendtert recalled the faces of the noble ladies he had met at various banquets. Thinking of the bright, lovely maidens who bloomed like fresh flowers, a grin tugged at his lips.
‘It seems a waste to keep only one. Should I bring in a main wife first, then take the rest as consorts?’
The ladies involved would faint if they heard such a thought. But already Arendtert was letting his imagination run wild, as if he sat upon the Imperial throne itself. It felt like the world was finally spinning back into its rightful orbit.
* * *
A place on the surface with the chill of the underground. A white structure filled with reverence and sanctity.
Sylaria entered the central hall of the temple with Euclid. She had come to pray for Grizelle’s repose and to meet High Priest Linder to hear about the Maws.
She had asked Elenia to come pray as well, but Elenia, too shaken by Grizelle, shook her head. So Sylaria had no choice but to come with Euclid alone.
Stepping into the hall, Sylaria stood before a massive stained-glass window that dominated the front. Upon the platform below it, hundreds of white candles flickered.
Though their lengths and thicknesses differed, each candle carried prayers for the dead and the wishes offered for their peace.
When the Crown Prince’s party stood before the platform, a priest approached and held out a small candle. Since they had explained their purpose beforehand, the priest had prepared a white candle engraved with Grizelle’s name.
Euclid lit the candle with a match given by the priest. Sylaria received it from him and carefully placed it on a corner of the platform where wax had melted down the side. Then she bowed her head and offered a brief prayer. Even though Grizelle had been her enemy, Sylaria wanted to soothe the spirit of someone who had died so miserably.
Looking back, not every moment with Grizelle had been terrible.
When they were very young, Grizelle had possessed a trace of innocence. At some point she had become steeped in greed, turning black within.
Sylaria hoped Grizelle would be born in her next life as someone who was not wicked, but kind. That she would form good ties instead of harmful ones. And if possible, in a life far away from Sylaria.
‘Let’s not meet again in our next lives.’
Finishing her prayer, Sylaria lifted her head and stepped back from the platform. Euclid immediately called a priest over. They were here to meet Linder. But the priest bowed with an apologetic and troubled look.
“I apologize, Your Highness, but the High Priest says he cannot receive you.”
“There was no such message yesterday.”
Euclid’s brows shot up at the unexpected reply. With a puzzled expression, he looked toward Sylaria.
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