The Prince’s Taste - Chapter 7.21

Some characters in novels are fated to be nothing more than embodiments of evil, more like extras who don’t even have names. The stepmother, Stepsister 1, and Stepsister 2.

They fulfilled their roles perfectly, tormenting Ella before being executed and forgotten. Even with the story twisted from its original, they stayed true to their parts. Should she applaud their consistency?

Count T stared at Judy Esther with eyes full of hatred.

His body trembled as he struggled to contain his anger, but at some point, it snapped like a taut string breaking, and he spoke.

“This is why you can’t spoil girls and coddle them.”

“Count T, mind your words.”

She had assumed Count T wouldn’t dare lay a hand on her being the fiancée of the crown prince, but the change in his eyes made her knees go weak.

“I’ll have to teach you some manners too. His Highness will even thank me for it.”

“Ha, you crazy bastard.”

“A b***h like you, the future queen of Adrian? What a disgrace.”

It was clear he had no control over his emotions. Maybe those missing wives didn’t even exist in this world anymore.

“You killed them, didn’t you? Those bothersome women.”

“They deserved to die.”

Count T was blinded by rage, seemingly unaware of what he was saying. The Kingdom of Adrian prided itself on equality and human rights—no slavery, no polygamy, and women could inherit noble titles. Yet here was a man with such a despicable mindset. It was infuriating. Even if Count T covered his crimes with his status as the third prince’s maternal uncle, murder was unforgivable.

If the T family faltered, would the third prince’s influence disappear?

“I think this is where your luck runs out.”

Judy Esther muttered, knowing Richard was listening to everything from behind her. The only reason he hadn’t stepped in yet was that he was waiting for the perfect moment to crush Count T completely. For now, it was just petty bickering. If Richard intervened, it might end with a simple apology.

Should they provoke him further, make his sins burn even brighter? That wouldn’t be so bad.

Ella clung tightly to the sleeve of her dress, clearly scared.

“Count, please calm your anger.”

The stepmother, terrified the wedding might be ruined, tried to soothe Count T with sweet words. But his wild eyes betrayed him—he couldn’t control his rage and roughly shoved the stepmother who approached him. She staggered and fell.

“Ah!”

She screamed, clutching her hip in pain. Judging by her face, she probably fractured something when she fell. Serves her right.

Stepsisters 1 and 2 fell silent as the atmosphere turned sour. They couldn’t even bring themselves to help their fallen mother, frozen in place.

“What makes you so damn arrogant?”

“I am Judy Esther, daughter of the Marquis Emers and the future queen of Adrian.”

Judy Esther lifted her chin defiantly and glared at Count T. The tense standoff between them was freezing the air around them.

‘Judy Esther, you need to run,’ Ella kept urging from behind, but Judy couldn’t hold back any longer. It was kill or be killed today. She clenched her fists tightly, ready to throw a punch if needed. But then—

“One more woman dying won’t matter…”

He pulled a dagger from his coat. His eyes were bloodshot, almost black with rage. No one in the royal palace, except the king’s guard knights, was allowed to carry weapons. Maybe Count T secretly carried it out of paranoia—he had many enemies—but this was a new level of madness. Ella’s voice trembled.

“Judy Esther, please dodge! Don’t let him stab you…”

“Ella, I told you—whether it’s a tiger or a monster, as long as you keep your wits, you can survive.”

“You absolutely can’t get stabbed.”

“Do you know something?”

Ella’s tone suggested she sensed what would happen if the dagger struck.

“You’re going to be the future crown princess, so…”

Ella hesitated. Judy Esther’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion.

“Kneel. Apologize for your mistakes so I may grant you mercy.”

Count T’s wild eyes bore into them, filled with madness. The bloodshot glare sent chills down their spines.

“Please forgive me, Count.”

Ella dropped to her knees, bowing her head.

“This is all my fault. Please let Judy Esther go.”

“Ella, get up.”

She had expected a mere argument, maybe a slap at worst. Not this. T was a man who wielded absolute power, carrying the king’s concubine—his own sister—on his back. But even so, could carrying a dagger into the palace be forgiven?

“Richard!”

The name that came to mind most vividly in the face of death’s terror. Maybe the dagger Count T pulled was hidden behind his body, or maybe it was just too dark to see.

She had thought the novel would end happily. But was the original setting—Judy Esther dying by the blade—still intact? The stabber might have changed, but the fatal wound remained? A wave of fear washed over her.

Crack! The sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking.