Chapter 5
The unknown that awaited her frightened her. She didn’t want to die.
Perhaps, if they realized she wasn’t Lamia, they might let her go.
For a fleeting moment, hope took root.
But Annerose had already decided to save her younger sister’s descendant. No matter how misguided this path might be, Lamia was still the descendant of the sister she had cherished so dearly.
Now that she had made her choice, she had to deceive these people by any means necessary until Lamia managed to escape the Kingdom of Parozera.
“I-I am Lamia! Y-you… insolent fools…! H-how dare you… inflict such h-humiliation upon me…! T-take your filthy hands off me and b-bow your heads…!”
She imitated the way she had once heard Lamia speak to her servants, and her lips trembled.
The moment Annerose spoke, the entire crowd fell silent.
In the suffocating silence, Annerose cautiously backed away.
Once again, she felt the cold pillar against her back.
“You heard her, didn’t you? That’s Lamia!”
Angry voices rang throughout the underground halls of the royal palace.
As she wondered whether Lamia had managed to escape safely, another cry rose above the others.
“Kill the tyrant queen!”
‘It’s over…! Please, let it be over soon…!’
With tears welling in her eyes, Annerose exposed her pale, slender neck.
If she truly had to die, she didn’t want to suffer any more pain than necessary.
The enraged people would soon drive their farm tools into her without mercy, severing her delicate neck from her body.
She wasn’t entirely certain, but she had heard that if her head were severed and her entire body burned afterward, she might truly die. If that was the case, then even her immortal soul could reach a moment when death was truly possible.
Trembling violently, Annerose waited for her death, tears slipping down her cheeks.
BOOM—!
A tremendous crash echoed through the summer palace, and someone calmly emerged from the thick cloud of smoke.
A tall man carrying a sword strode toward the peasants standing before Annerose.
“W-who are you? Are you with the revolutionaries? Or the royal army?!”
“……”
The man gave no answer. He simply stared at Annerose, who was trembling before him.
As the smoke gradually cleared behind him, soldiers began to emerge.
Their armor was of a design Annerose had never seen before. That alone was enough for her to realize they weren’t people from her kingdom.
Their clothes were far too fine for ordinary commoners, and the blades they carried were pointed toward the ground, making it clear they had no intention of threatening the people.
“What is this? You don’t look like you’re from Parozera! Who are you people?!”
Sensing that something was wrong, the people raised their farm tools and took fighting stances toward the man and his soldiers.
“…They’re ordinary peasants. Don’t kill them. Just knock them unconscious.”
At his command, cries of pain rang out from every direction, followed by the sounds of bodies collapsing.
Annerose squeezed her eyes shut, praying for this nightmare to end as quickly as possible.
Before long, silence descended.
Annerose cautiously opened her eyes. Smoke still hung thickly in the air, making it impossible to understand what had happened. Perhaps another faction had come to kill her.
With no idea what awaited her, Annerose could only pray that this moment would pass as quickly as possible.
Annerose trembled, staring at the ground. In the midst of her fear, the man strode toward her and gently lifted her chin.
“It’s been a long time, Annerose Parozera.”
Hearing him clearly speak her name, Annerose flinched and hurriedly cried out.
“I– I…! I am Queen Lamia of the Kingdom of Parozera…!”
“You don’t have to keep up the act. I already know exactly who you are.”
Startled, Annerose glanced frantically around her. The peasants who had been threatening her with their farm tools only moments ago now lay sprawled across the floor.
“Th– They’re not dead, are they?”
“I didn’t kill them. I knew you wouldn’t want that. Annerose, they’re only unconscious.”
“…”
Hearing her name once more, Annerose finally locked up.
She had remained the summer palace ever since stepping down from the throne. There should have been almost no one left who knew her face, let alone her name. Those who knew her true identity and appearance were mostly high-ranking officials and members of the royal family.
Which meant the man standing before her was no ordinary person.
Annerose stared at the man who had called her name so clearly, again and again. As the smoke finally began to clear, his features came into view.
Hair as black as the night sky, crimson eyes as piercing as precious rubies.
A fleeting image of a young boy who had once treated her kindly flashed across her mind.
“Iver…?”
“I’m glad you remembered me, Annerose.”
Iver Dio Costeria, Crown Prince of the Costeria Empire.
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